Five teenage boys are standing in a circle, arms locked around each others shoulders but this is no group hug.

They are all urinating into the centre.

They are ten metres away from the toilets.

Welcome to Leeds.

Another teenage boy is enjoying the comforts of a campfire.

A tent sits barely twelve inches away from the pile of burning rubbish.

“You’re brave having that so near your tent” a concerned passer-by ventures.

“It’s not my tent” comes the reply.

Yep. This is definitely Leeds alright.

This is not a festival where common sense prevails, but one where chaos reigns. It also routinely has one of the best line-ups a fan of what was once called ‘alternative rock’ but what could only be referred to now as ‘not metal’ could desire.  There are thousands of indie kids who are individually polite and considerate but as a collective are a drunken malco-ordinated tsunami of excitement. We’re only brave enough to come for one day.

Perhaps being the first band on the NME/Radio 1 stage is a prestigious slot? It’s the only to explain why Pulled Apart By Horses would be so low on the bill with the sound turned down to ‘morning’. Quiet noise-rock? Pity, since they’re one of more exciting homegrown live acts to have appeared in the last few years. We always undervalue British bands when they choose making a noise over striking a pose. We hope that’s not the case here.

Does it Offend You, Yeah? really are the perfect act for Leeds. With their anarchic attitude and childish techno-rock they provide the perfect antidote to The Blackout’s exercise in danger-free genre adherence playing simultaneously on the main stage. The kids get DIOYY in a way that suggests that they’re a critic-proof party band. On this occasion the kids are all right.

Dublin three-piece The Minutes are the first of several bands that we catch on the BBC Introducing stage. They’re another one whose sound requires more volume. Their brand of rock n’ roll would be better suited to a venue that’s wet as a result of perspiration rather than precipitation.

Employees of the hair conditioner industry aren’t the only people grateful for Bring Me the Horizon. The band earn such devotion from their fans, but presumably from their metalcore anthems rather than singer Olly Sykes genital fixation. We’ve not seen this much simulated masturbation since late ’80s Madonna.

After briefly checking out Cerebral Ballzy’s supremely energetic take on ’80s skatepunk, we catch a couple of songs from the dreamy piano-playing piece of girl-bait that is Tim Minchin before the heat of the tent gets too much.

Yes, they sound like no-one else, yes they are the thinking man’s metal band but after years of trying to like them, we’re just going to have to come clean- we find Deftones boring. Dreadfully boring.

The Vaccines remind us of so many bands that we can’t even be bothered to work out whether they’re any good. This may seem like a betrayal of journalistic responsibility but there’s only so much musical analysis we can do. If we think any more about the Vaccines we might miss the next Beatles.

It’s a good time at the moment if you like music with fuzzed-up early 90s guitar on. If you enjoyed the Yuck album, but want something more lo-fi but with a (slight) nod towards Velvets, you could do a lot worse than the Milk Maid album. There’s something pleasing about albums full of great melodies that are knowingly under produced- a reminder of how bringing joy to a few is better inspiration than redundant (and unrealistic) rock star fantasies. Live, they make it look effortless, which is not the same thing as uncaring.

Jared Leto really is a preposterous individual. I’ve never seen someone get so into rock star posturing that they can’t find the time to play any actual music, but that seems to be what passes for a performance from 30 Seconds to Mars. He invites fans on stage (a drawn-out, logistically challenging patience tester), makes long speeches about how awesome we all are, and thanks us for helping sell out their recent tour (complete with list of venues). It’s the most expensive award ceremony speech we’ve ever seen! We should point out that silly as this all is, it’s rather endearing.

My Chemical Romance are one hell of a pop band. We don’t mean that as an insult- they’ve amassed an arsenal of catchy 4 minute sing-a-long songs, and play them like a balls-out rock band. We don’t know whether we’d ever buy an album but they’re certainly welcome in a world with plenty of big-selling artists but not many worthy headliners.

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My Chemical Romance – the Soda Stream of Rock (tasteless, full of gas and depressingly disappointing) – are having a typically overwrought time of it at the moment and no amount of self-harming is going to get them out of this drama.

See, they’ve had to sack their drummer who you’ve never heard of. Why? Because he’s been stealing from the group.

But what has he stolen? There wasn’t any musical ability to take, but a sacking means that it was more precious than even that! We’ve got an idea…

The drummer, with the exciting name of Michael Pedicone (which means ‘man who has unlawful sex with underage geometric conoids), has been fired after the terrible band claimed that he’d been “caught stealing”, just like a Jane’s Addiction song.

After a year putting up with staring at Gerard Way’s anus, he’s been replaced by the unfortunate Dead Country sticksman Jarrod Alexander.

Guitarist Frank Iero says:

“Some shit happened last night. The relationship between My Chemical Romance and Michael Pedicone is over. He was caught red-handed stealing from the band and confessed to police after our show last night in Auburn, Washington. We are heartbroken and sick to our stomachs over this entire situation.”

Pedicone says:

“What happened is more complicated than it sounds but I did make a mistake. It was never my intention to hurt this band or all of you … It was an error in judgment based on a whole other situation that’s way deeper, but this does not define me.”

So what did he steal? Well, we have an inkling that My Chemical Romance are avid bottle collectors and Pedicone tried to take one of them to use for his bottles of squash that he likes to drink on-stage.

As you can see from this video, MCR are so keen on bottles that fans are desperate to add to their collection, even as they play.

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Festivals are ace, aren’t they? They’re like proper gigs, but you have to spend a weekend in a smelly tent and buy beer for £4 a can from a crusty trust fund hippy in order to see your favourite band perform their popular hits from half a mile away while you hold in eight pints of urine because you don’t want to go to the horrible, horrible toilets.

Anyway, Leeds/Reading have had their lineups ‘leaked’ to the press, which has had the unfortunate side effect of making it ‘news’.

So yay! We can find out which bands we’re going to see as unremarkable dots in the distance this year. Would it surprise you to note that most of them are awful? No? In that case, read on.

So, the line up has been released. If you go to Reading, you’ll see the Strokes – just in time to catch them on their tenth anniversary of being at all relevant. And if you go to Leeds, you’ll see Pulp, who are pretty damn awesome, even if they are doing it for the money (sod off, even my hate glands can’t say anything bad about Jarvis Cocker. It’s not possible. I want his babies).

The other bands headlining are My Chemical Romance, which is good news for all you teenagers who can’t be arsed listening to anything half decent, and Muse, which is good news for all you deaf people who like to go to festivals.

To be fair (and to lay my music preferences bare) there are a couple of gems in the gigantic turd pile – Elbow and The National are playing – but you have to wade through 30 Seconds To Mars, The Offspring, Interpol, Beady Eye, The Streets, Noah And The Whale, Panic At The Disco (formerly known as Panic! At the Disco, formerly known at outright trash) and Patrick Wolf.

Not only that, you have to put up with parades of people wearing fashionable wellies and monged out hippies in rubbish jumpers ‘from Tibet’ in order to experience it.

Makes you mourn for the good old days of Blink 182 and Guns And Roses, doesn’t it? Nah, just kidding, they are terrible bands too. Serves you right for spending £250 for a campsite that will guarantee rubbish music, draconian alcohol laws and dysentery.

You can buy tickets from your local HMV – if it’s deemed worthy – or you can just stay at home and laugh at the muddy tossers who’ve spent vast amounts of money to experience life as a refuge from Kosovo.

Ah, who are kidding, it’s still better than Glastonbury.

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The organisers of Hard Rock Calling, that sort of festival like thing that happens in Hyde Park every summer that isn’t the O2 Wireless festival, have decided that former Fall Out Boy bassist and pioneer of the musical equivalent of object dá, Pete Wentz, is a suitable choice for a battle of the bands judge.

Right? RIGHT?

If you’re lucky enough to have forgotten the mid noughties, here’s a crash course in all things Pete Wentz:

• He was in an emo band called Fall Out Boy who got big on the back of the success of auditory assassins My Chemical Romance.
• He had/has a stupid fringe and a fondness for guyliner.
• He was once caught doing an Ashley Cole after a fan posted a picture of his tattooed tallywhacker on the internet and…
• He’s married to Ashlee Simpson, a woman so pathetic she continues to live in the shadow of America’s answer to Kerry Katona, her older sister Jessica Simpson.

That’s right, at one point in time, Pete Wentz was related by marriage to Nick Lachey.

ROCKNFUGGINROLL!

The heats Wentz will be judging are taking place in Hard Rock Cafes all over the world, because being alternative and sticking it to the man is like totally all about being a shameless corporate whore nowadays, duh!

The budding bands that Wentz will cast his three eyes over are battling it out to see who gets to take to the stage in Hyde Park, in front of literally some people, and belt out their best Aerosmith covers as bottles of piss whip past their heads and rain pours down on them from the cold, grey London skies.

We here at hecklerspray aren’t really ones for nurturing talent, we prefer to call people names and giggle amongst ourselves, but even so we can’t honestly see what would make anyone desperate enough to have Pete Wentz, a man so incredibly annoying and pointless that even Bono thinks it’s a bit much, judge their musical ability. Unless they’re still about 12 years old and think that Wentz is OMG LIKE SO TOTALLY BUFF YEH!

Anyway, congratulations Hard Rock Calling, whatever credibility you had left after changing your name to that of an overpriced theme restaurant has just evaporated.

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It’s that time of the year again when music lovers gather in a field to celebrate the thing they love: live music.

There are all sorts of festivals to cater for all sorts of musical tastes in all four corners of the world. The main ones kick off at this time of year and hecklerspray is here to tell you all you need to know about each festival, who the essential people are to see and which act to avoid so you can queue up for the overflowing shit-filled portaloos.

As the sun sneaks out from behind one of his many clouds, the hot weather looks like it may arrive for one of the festivals that kick starts them all. Download is the chance for 75,000 people to gather together and rock out to leather clad men drenched in tattoos and piercings. Sounds like a bit ropey if you ask us.

Download festival means one thing: it’s the only weekend of the year when parents of angry teenagers can drop off their sprogs so they can all share a common love of hating the world together. Of course it may mean forking out over £300 for little Jimmy’s ticket, food supplies, tent, waterproof clothing and suncream but it means mum and dad can have Saturday and Sunday free of Norwegian mega death metal.

For the kids, it will be an opportunity to meet fellow angst ridden emo lovers. This gives the ideal opportunity for everyone to compare their generic star tattoos, lip piercings and why My Chemical Romance means so much to them.

Because the festival attracts a younger audience, expect a quick queue at the bar. Hopefully the Download staff will stick to alcohol laws and won’t serve beer to sixteen year old children. Though we’re sure that some young rascals will get their mucky paws on a few pints of cider and vomit up their £6 gravy and chips.

The Mr Whippy van will have to call in extra supplies of cotton candy to cope with the demand as children look for a sugary high as opposed to the one they’d get when they’d smoke cannabis cut with Oxo cubes.

Think of this festival as a massive childminding event where the entertainment isn’t a Punch and Judy show, but the screaming’s of some pissed up rock band. You’ll be lucky to see a synthesiser. Held over three says, Download offers the best new rock talent and aging crippled artists who won’t go away.

Friday – Go go go!

Kiss – You know that porn film which had Gene Simmons in it? Well boys and girls, this is what he does as a ‘proper’ job. No, he doesn’t paint faces for a living! He rocks out, probably with his cock out.

Rolo Tomassi – We love these young guns from Sheffield. They will surprise you with how loud and crazy they can be.

Friday – Avoid Like The Plague:

Motörhead - They have one song that everyone knows and that’s about it. They’ll only play it at the end of the set to make you wait.

Kid Rock – He’s an American Badass apparently. But we think of him as just an arsehole. Once upon a time he married Pamela Anderson. Go ask him about it, he probably tell you all about it.

Saturday – Go go go!

Ash – They may be cracking at the seams, but they’re always up for a song and a dance. Something which comes with bucket loads of sweat.

Biffy Clyro – Scottish rockers who don’t fall into the trap of being the same thrash metal track thirty-two times over. Ask nicely, and they may sing their version of Rhinna’s umbrella song.

Saturday – Avoid Like The Plague:

Pendulum – For fuck’s sake, are they booked to play at every festival this year? Just like 50 Cent playing Leeds in 2004, Pendulum are Download’s random booking.

The Offspring – Apparently we we’re wrong to label them one hit wonders. After Pretty Fly [For a White Guy] they’ve had more hits. How are they headlining?

Sunday – Go go go!

Lethal Bizzle – The guy’s amazing. His crossover blend of rock/hip-hop/electronica should appear to all. Even My Chemical Romance fans might crack a smile.

Exit Ten – One album done and many more to follow. A band to say you saw before they made it big and sold their souls to Simon Cowell.

Sunday – Avoid The Plague:

Fightstar – Get ready to piss in a bottle and launch it at Charley. The former Busted goon doesn’t really seem to fit in.

Jimmy Eat World – We don’t get them or understand their popularity.