The Nodding Dog

It’s the middle of the afternoon, and you’re watching some indie no-marks. You read about them in that music mag that used to clutter up the tube seats. Apparently the singer hates colonialism and wasabi. They’re “going to do huge things” according to the guy at work who still goes to gigs. But then, he does often wear skintight denim jeans and rants about Windows 8. Is this … good? Is music still good? The question is irrelevant. What’s important is to nod the head.
How to Two inches should do it: a subtle, fractional movement that indicates conditional acceptance of the tidal wave of underwhelm heading towards you, speeding up to quarter notes during “the one you recognise from the ad”.
Soundtrack Wolf Alice, Cabbage, Black Honey
Most likely to say “They’re just ripping off the Inspirals. Same as the Strokes did.”
Least likely to say “It’s Year Zero all over again.”

Salute to the Gun

It’s Stormzy! Though as you only listen to Radio X and still really love the Stereophonics, you mainly know him from Twitter and the Brit awards. Apparently he makes music, too! And there’s nothing wrong with getting your annual 40-minute grime injection, is there? Gun-fingers at the ready, shit’s about to get real when Stormzy comes through with his Boys Had Better Know gang.
How to Index and thumb are at right angles while the right arm, aloft, cocks up and down from the elbow with enough fluidity in the hyperextension to accidentally thwack the 13-year-old girl in front of you.
Soundtrack Skepta! Oh, whoops ...
Most likely to say “Brap blud!”
Least likely to say “Wait a minute ... this isn’t Stormzy.”

Culture Warrior pose

It’s 4am inside the dance tent. All fluid movement has ceased. You are doing the staggeringly grim spinal spasm of someone who has just worked out that no amount of stimulants can stop the comedown.
How to Face: tilted back, like you’ve forgotten something. Maybe your name? Back: caved forward like your body has belatedly realised that dancing solidly for seven hours might have consequences. This pose is very good for the kidneys. Certainly compared to everything you’ve just inflicted on those poor dried-out butterbeans. Pay close attention to the knees. You’ll miss them when they’ve buckled.
Soundtrack Whatever came after Rudimental and Skream.
Most likely to say “What do you mean we can’t get an Uber back to London? I’ll pay.”
Least likely to say “We should do this every weekend.”

Child’s pose

Not so much a pose as a warning to anyone attempting procreation back in their tents.
How to A soft distracted rock that extends from the pelvis, with a straight back, performed at the back of the crowd. Don’t forget your balance equipment: a baby, in a Gore-Tex papoose, with ear muffs. To take it up a notch, crane the head leftwards to see where your other child has gone, and, extending one open palm at 45 degress in a swift, fluid motion, catch it before it sprints into the unguarded lake.
Soundtrack First Aid Kit. Kitty, Daisy & Lewis. Lissome introspective women with acoustic guitars beyond number. Bloody anything if they’ll just stay quiet.
Most likely to say “No, that’s not a snake skin, honey. Put it down!”
Least likely to say “Whatever man, I get sleep the rest of the year.”