Hello again, heres the final installment of my Reading roundup! SUNDAY Sunday seems a little bit more threadbare in terms of bands I really want to see, mainly due to the absence of the Lockup stage, with the Dance Tent taking its place. However, one of the acts I most anticipated for the whole weekend takes the stage over on the Alternative stage, and for an hour, nothing else in the world matters. Who else but Henry Rollins The Black Flag and Rollins Band singer, spoken word artist, TV presenter, political activist, actor, and stand up comedian (sort of) has done more things in his half a decade on this planet, than probably everybody else in the tent. Not many people could capture my undivided attention for an hour, even despite the obnoxious twat who pushes past halfway through, pissed as a fart, and decides that it would be a good idea to not only talk loudly to his friend, but to talk on his phone as well. Anyway, Henry Rollins is probably the best man ever, and I could listen to him talk about politics, why he is angry at everything, all the crazy places he goes even though its probably not a good idea to, airport security, why Mariah Carey and Hannah Montana are the reasons everyone hates America, or anything else for that matter all day. Trying to pigeonhole this show is difficult, there are elements of stand up comedy in there for sure, but it's almost like a lecture, albeit with a ridiculously charismatic and entertaining individual. Next up I head over to the BBC Introducing Stage (you couldn't really get away with calling it a tent) to catch That Fucking Tank playing to a fairly large crowd. They don't disappoint either, living up to the good things I had been told prior to seeing them live myself. There's plenty of energy, not only in their performance, but in the music they create, and it's interesting to see how their semi-improvised show comes off live. There is certainly a reflected element of spontaneity in what they do, utilising ‘mathy' riffs, alongside experimental, dance orientated post-rock, with a smattering of noise thrown in. My brother isn't a fan however, ‘thank god that's over!' he remarks at the end of their set. Over on the NME stage Lightspeed Champion is back at Reading, although in a majorly different guise to the last time he was here. It's apt that Conor Oberst is here later, as Dev certainly owes quite an influence to Oberst, and Bright Eyes. Set closer ‘Midnight Surprise' is suitably epic, and it's very difficult to hate someone who has both the nerve, and the audacity to feature Chopin's funeral march alongside the Star Wars theme tune into a 12 minute long track. There's little to interest me for a while, although I do attempt to get into the dance tent to catch Lethal Bizzle, but, thwarted by the absolute cretins he seems to attract at this stage, who probably don't even like him, just enjoy using terms like ‘The Bizzle!' and enjoying the fact that they are watching someone with black skin, who isn't the singer from Bloc Party (with all due respect). One person seems to have a vendetta against anyone who could be described as ‘of average height' or above. If you are reading this, yes I mean you, you utter twat. It sounds ok from our position outside the tent however, and the crowd inside certainly seem to be enjoying it, shame they are mostly idiots, who insist upon pushing for the sake of pushing, and creating an atmosphere that isn't particularly enjoyable. Chromeo follow an hour or so later, albeit to a far less busy tent, probably due to the fact that the previously mentioned idiots have migrated to Pendulum on the NME Stage. Quite why anyone would want to do that is beyond my comprehension, but good luck to them. That doesn't stop those that are in the dance tent from ‘insert spinetinglingly awful term for dancing here' and it's a marked improvement from the last time they played here, as the band acknowledges. Being honest though, if you can resist the urge to dance as the ‘TWO STEP, TWO STEP' sounds during the opening of ‘Fancy Footwork' you're probably not a very fun person. The aforementioned Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band play to a surprisingly empty NME stage, although much of this may have to do with competing with Tenacious D, who draw a ridiculously puzzling, large audience to the mainstage. It's not a particularly exciting set, and having not heard the album the entirety of the set was unfamiliar to me, but it was competent, and definitely very pleasant, and Bright Eyes fans in particular will enjoy this. Finally the culmination of the weekend occurs on the mainstage, as Metallica perform to the largest crowd of the weekend, despite competition from Rage. Ill admit that I'm not the biggest admirer of the band, being much more a fan of newish bassist Robert Trujillo's previous band Suicidal Tendencies. Nevertheless it's quite a spectacle, with the most elaborate stage design of the weekend by far, coupled with extensive pyrotechnics. Crushing, punishing riffs and crowd participation are the order of the day, although after an hour it becomes quite wearing and I head over to the NME Stage to watch The Cribs. It's just a shame I missed the songs I'm more familiar with, namely ‘One' and ‘Enter Sandman', although I'm sure I'll get over it. The Cribs, however, are on fine form, and backed by a new member, a little known guitarist by the name of Johnny Marr, they provide an excellent end to the festival. Featuring a typically ramshackle rendition of pretty much all their singles, and the favourites from each of their three albums, The Cribs underline just why they are regarded as the best indie-pop band in the UK at the moment by many. Suitably chaotic, they manage to keep my weary eyes wide open. So overall a pretty good weekend, despite having to navigate past the young kids, who realise on the Sunday night that this is their last night of freedom, before going home to be told to clean their room and stuff by their parents, and as a result decide throwing shit on a fire is a good idea. Unfortunately such shows of childish idiocy have become synonymous with Reading on a Sunday night in particular, and no, ‘Its Reading!' is not justification to act like a complete c***. So I go home at 2am, for a well needed shower, and other things you don't want to know about. Bring on next year.