I have great memories of all three of those years, though it took browsing a Wikipedia page listing past lineups to bring them to mind, not to mention confirm that those were in fact the years that I attended.
What I do find truly shocking is how many bands that I now consider myself a fan of that I didn't see in all three of those years. The only explanation I can find for this is that the larger groups of people I went with in those years wanted to spend a lot of time back at the camp. That was great in it's own sociable way, but I wish I hadn't been so easily beaten by peer pressure back then. This year I entered the Arena at opening time three days in a row, and left with everyone else in the dark. I spent no more than a few hours over three days in total not looking at some kind of act. This is what I want from a festival, though I acknowledge this isn't what everybody wants.
When there's no music of interest there's always something happening at the Alt stage, although it was inaccessible to latecomers for about an hour on Sunday due to some guy named Tim Minchin, who needed a bigger stage, but Reading and Leeds only do one (mostly) non-music stage so it is what it is.
It was heart warming how little the festival has changed in 7 years. Everything is pretty much where it was, though there are differences. The arena definitely seems bigger, the rear now being much more spacious. The large tent that used to belong to Radio 1 now belongs to NME as well and is enormous (the only thing i'll mention that is actually new this year). There's now a lot to be said for playing this stage in preference to the main stage if you're looking to create a darker vibe in daylight, which is there pretty much until the final two acts. Even the Lockup/Dance stage has a decent capacity. It looks like or perhaps is the old Radio 1 stage tent, which used to be an overriding aerial landmark, but has unquestionably been surpassed by the new enormous tent, both internally and from the sky or in the distance from the camps.
The second barrier has been around for years now by all accounts, but it was new to me. When I was last at Reading it was possible to enter the crowd at the rear and push all the way to the stage barrier (rude, though I did do it a lot). The second barrier means to be near the front you must enter the crowd from the front left or right. For smaller acts this means you can stand at the back of the "first" crowd and be quite close, which I like. For bigger acts it didn't seem significantly harder to reach the front, but getting back out from behind that barrier after a set is slow going. I'd say it's just about an improvement to have the second barrier. If nothing else it gives a lot of shorter, weaker people far more options for managing to see... anything.
No festival post should be without a nod to toilets. Reading stopped using portaloos at some point in my 7 year break, switching to open air tanks with cubicles mounted above - we call them long-drops apparently. Having weighed it up, and although it's hard to recall exactly what the portas were like all those years ago, I think I prefer this. Don't misunderstand - I wouldn't camp next to one, but you can always get a toilet. Straight away! Without a queue!! It doesn't contain anything mechanical that can break besides the door lock (which people do break of course - constantly) and the toilet seat, which I suspect women think men lift, but we don't. Why would we touch the thing if we don't have to? It did occur to me that I might be wrong about this, after all, I only have my own actions to draw on, right? Almost, but have you ever heard the oh so funny woman emotionally battering a man for "not putting the toilet seat down after using it" joke? It's inconceivable that every man has suddenly become capable in this area, and of the 15-20 times I used these toilets, I never once found a toilet seat to be up on arrival! We're all pissing mostly through the hole, and a little bit on your, and our, seat. Sorry.
Back in the arena, yes, the festival is clearly in line with trend, and now four fifths indie, but there are plenty of rock acts too, particularly high up the bill where they belong. Also, on the indie side, I may not care about Elbow, but I can happily enjoy the Strokes. Those of us from rock will all have our own indie line, and Reading, for the most part, doesn't cross mine.
The lighting and pyrotechnic element in the darkened second and first bill slots on the main stage were all spectacular, with Muse being the clear winner. I always stand wondering how much input the band themselves actually have into these spectacles. They certainly have a part to play in following direction just to be in the right place at the right time, but the amount of work required behind the stage and behind the desk to pull this stuff off live can't fail to impress me, even if like much of modern technology it's now the expected norm, and therefore not impressive to the masses.
Age range of Reading at this point? It's definitely a lot lower than my age, but as was always the case, there's no shortage of late twenties/early thirties types. They're just rather hard to spot in the sea of teen/early twenties types.
It was a mud bath year. That's a bad thing. The whole experience is a breeze with dry ground. The unforgiving sky pounded the entire site with water throughout Thursday morning, then overnight and at Friday lunch-time. This was the most beautifully ironic timing (I use that wrongly just to reference Alanis, who had similar problems using the term on her wedding day), wetting the mud for the arriving feet of all but the early-bird campers, replenishing the settling squelch for the morning stomp to the arena, then starting up again just in time to ensure the untouched arena itself would also become aforementioned mud bath within an hour of opening, there then being no further significant rain after that for the remainder of the weekend. Wellington boots don't support feet, and my feet don't support themselves. It hurt. Nonetheless, I survived.
I expected this to be my final trip to Reading, but now i'm not sure. This was one of the most enjoyable weekends I've had in recent years, so to write it off as something i'm too old for at 31 when I felt fine about being there at 30 seems like unsound reasoning. I try not to pay too much attention to those quick to write off something based on their own idea of what it should be. For my particular brand of on/off artistic hunger, Reading (and probably Leeds) is right on the money... Although speaking of money, I also wish it still cost £100.
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