As a London-based inde journalist you get used to certain perks. Guestlist for the Dog & Dump's weekly rock night, the odd free bag of crisps, and all the sh*tty demos you could ever want. Rock stars on the other hand, they get it much better. So, determined to live at least one night in the shoes of an indie ledgend I convinced my friend Jamie Reynolds, from award-winning new-rave heroes Klaxons, to add my name to the band's line up on the guestlist to the MTV Europe Awards in Munich. And, trust me, life is much better when everyone in Germany thinks you're a member of a Mercury Music Prize-winning band. So, once we got to Munich I had doors opened for me, cards thrust into my hand from eager hoteliers, a woman even came up to my hotel room to stitch my coat back together (a war wound from a tussle with a bastard dog called Bismarck). Snoop Dogg and I even shared oxygen for an hour. Screw indie, I wanna stay on the mainstream bandwagon.

I figured the whole thing would be quite gross, but the Olympic Stadium was far worse than I'd imagined. At the "VIP" entrance (VIP meaning everyone who isn't important enough to get on the red carpet) hundreds, literally hundreds of China White scumbags in black shirts with huge silver ties were climbing over scaffolding to try and get into the place. While a woman with a shit perm behind me was pushing me, like an obnoxious kid does, into the guy in front, a Teutonic ex-model type vamped to the front and mouthed, ‘"Let me in, do you know who I am?" No one did.

Inside there was a small stage where a man stood dancing to "Umbrella," and "Sexy Back." My friend and I (former NME assistant editor) Malik bought beers and played this game where we won some maracas by recognising a Pink song and a Christina Aguilera song.

Jamie got down a bit later, it took me ages to work out where he was calling me from, but I eventually spotted him right in the middle of the stadium, in this weird little island with jaccuzzis where Snoop Dogg, Amy Winehouse, Pete Doherty, Nelly Furtado and people like that were. He didn't have a clue how he got there. Neither do I, because he had the same pass as me and I had to peg it past this shy overweight guard and then pretend I was crew to get there.

It was kind of cool there though. We didn't know anyone who was there except for Drew from Babyshambles so we said hi to him, but mostly we just sat about watching the show and drinking cans of free prosecca which were brought round by hot waitresses who looked quite stressed out. Mika was really weird, Babyshambles were good, Amy Winehouse was amazing.

Lewis Hamilton was there looking sharp if very small, his maties looked like nightclub owners though, trainers with suits, big sunglasses etc. Gerard Way has nice new hair and looked cheerful when hanging out with Dave Grohl. Grohl incidentally knew everyone there, he was mixing his own drinks and pissing about with Snoop Dogg. Model Lily Cole was there, she looks kind of amazing, so did Winehouse and Furtado. I, incidentaly looked rubbished and remembered what it was like to go out before England went "indie."