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We wake up to the blessed sound of silence. No burning portaloos.
No idiots with bongos. And, most importantly, no rain. While day 2 of
V Festival at Weston Park doesn't exactly dawn brightly, it's
certainly not as apocalyptic
as the first day. And, in keeping with the festival's reputation for
'niceness,' punters took to their sleeping bags at a reasonable hour,
leaving us with the most uninterrupted sleep these festival old hands
have ever had.
Down at the festival site, bleary eyed campers struggle through
mounds of mud towards the main stage, probably the only summery place
in all of
Staffordshire now the Magic Numbers have turned up. Accusations
of tweeness and frivolity failed to dampen the Numbers, who put in an absolutely stonking set, beefing up their album's
sickly harmonies and actually sounding... rock. Mornings Eleven, The
Mule and glorious set closer Love Me Like You all added up to a very
unexpected festival highlight.
Dublin's answer to Franz Ferdinand, Director are on next.
And they're really
rather good - lead single Come With a Friend is a corker, like Joy
Division's poppiest moments, and set closer Reconnect sounds like... alright,
they sound just like Franz Ferdinand. The singer evens looks like Alex
Kapranos. They're still cracking, but do we really need another bunch of
skinny-trousered art punkers? According to the inkies, yes, we probably do.
After Director, Seth Lakeman, the fiddling minstrel from
Dartmoor, grins his
way onto the stage with a ragtag band of musicians who will spend much
of their time onstage banging boxes. Despite being one of
the most musically interesting at the festival, there's an edge to this performance. Lakeman grins.
He actively encourages the audience to do a hoedown. He sings when
playing a violin. Is it just me, or is this all a bit... odd? Apparently
it is just me - with just one
blast of Kitty Jay, from the Mercury-nominated album of the same name, the entire tent is performing
an impromptu jig.
The lead singer of Keane, Tom Chaplin, has just announced
he's battling a
drink and drugs addiction. Now, we don't endorse schadenfreude, but isn't
that just the goddamn funniest thing you ever heard? Keane? Drugs?!
Drugs are bad. They destroy lives. And make your
band sound pants at open-air festivals. Tom and the
other two must know they are performing
a lumpen second album, so why play so much of it?
Keane give the distinct impression, even before the rehab revelations,
of being a band coming apart at the seams. Despite competently banging
out The Last Time and Is It Any Wonder, the stress fractures are
beginning to show - the band look tired and lethargic and we sneak
away to find another.
Over at the Channel 4 stage, indie band du jour We Are
Scientists arrive on stage on mini bikes, wearing matching helmets
and jumpsuits. WAS have always had a reputation of being fun-loving
scamps (they're even friends with the sulky Arctic Monkeys, which must
be a measure of their chipper attitude, if not just plain tenacity)
and they blast through a set peppered with jokes, usually directed at
the mustachioed bassist. Despite being the band you'd most like to
have a pint with at V (fancy a G&T, Thom? No?) We Are Scientists still have some way
to go to delivering a festival pleasing set, too many songs are
unknown to many of the muddy minions' ears, and before the closing
bars of The Great Escape shudder to a halt, many have left to find
songs they can sing along to. Shame though, when We Are Scientists are good, they're
really good.
Perhaps it's the air of festivity surrounding the inclusion of a proper pop
group on the bill, or perhaps it's because we're high on cheap vodka we
sneaked into the site (c'mon V - £3 a drink?!!) but Girls Aloud
in the JJB
Arena suddenly seems like the best idea in the world. How will they be
received? Bemused indifference? Ironic glee? Bottles of piss? However,
nothing, nothing could prepare us for what we saw.
The cavernous tent is
packed. To the rafters. We have to fight our way in to see the emaciated
wenches, and are almost killed in the crush to get out. And was it worth it?
Well, from behind the pillar we were pushed against, the singular Girl Aloud
(Sarah, we think, although it could have been the ginger one) they looked to
be having a great deal of fun, and sounded great. And how many times
can you get to say you honestly cheered heartily when Sound of the
Underground was played? Ace.
After an enormous crowd gave five faux-popsters from a TV show a huge
welcome, the least you could do is expect them to stick around for the
wonderful Go! Team, a day-glo, frantic bunch from Brighton who
throw almost every kind of musical genre into a huge melting pot, and
see what happens. Alas, no - they all fuck off to watch Editors. We
however, stick it out, and are delighted by what we see. Punk rock, tv
theme tunes and rap are thrown out by the miscreant bunch, usually at
the same time. Huddle Formation, Ladyflash and Bottle Rocket are as
good as ever, and while its nigh-on impossible to recreate their
riotous debut album Thunder, Lightning, Strike live, they give an
energetic performance, though you get the feeling they're a little out
of their depth this high on the bill.
Radiohead have always frustrated and delighted in equal
measure. Live, as on
record they're a unpredictable act for non-devotees, sometimes they'll pull a
melody out of the bag that'll take your breath away, sometimes they'll
become so bogged down in reinventing their own wheel. Live, you never know
who'll turn up - bleepy Head or play the classic Head. And tonight, while
the expectation levels have run to the almost hysterical, there's the threat
of "terrifying new material."
But we needn't have been worried. For tonight,
Radiohead are astonishing. Shrugging off their reputation of bloody
mindedness, they open with Airbag, and the crowd realise that the band are
actually here to have fun. Fake Plastic Trees. Just. Street Spirit. Paranoid
Android. Every time you think the magic will end and they'll withdraw into a
scrawl of impenetrable electronica another hit starts up. Lucky.
Karma
Police. Even the three new songs (Nude, Videotape and All I Need) sound like
worthy inclusions into the back catalogue. As Thom and co leave the stage to
the feverously received Creep, they have already written a new chapter in V
Festival's history - a moment that will be talked about in hushed tones for
years to come. It even makes up for the mud.
Day 1
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