14 July 2011 (gig)
25 July 2011
There’s nothing like a stressy teen to start a trip with a bang. Having opted for the green route, my partner and I were riding the National Express (which, I must say, was lacking the Jolly Hostess so invitingly promised by Neil Hannon) with a bus packed full of girls in flowery wellies and lads wearing sunglasses, even when the rain trickled down the windows. The issue arose when traffic contributed to a delay in arrival – access to the festival site is somewhat limited, and requires a certain amount of patience to negotiate the slow dribble of vehicles into the rural site. However, several of my co-travellers decided that the bus driver was to blame, and decided berating him from the back of the bus was a good idea. Thankfully, our bearded pilot took it all on his well-trimmed chin, and cheerily delivered us safely to our point of arrival.
Having opted for a Tangerine Fields package (age brings on a need for accessible toilets and a lightening of the backpack), I just wanted to put what a great idea it was – situated behind an excellent Mr. Scruff-sponsored tea tent, TF had our tent ready to go, with all the amenities well serviced and accessible. Big thumbs up to them.
So with gear safely stowed, and fresh clothes on our backs, we decided to check out the arena, and hopefully catch some artistry – the festival, after all, is billed as starting on the Thursday. However, all we were greeted with was an array of food stalls, and only a few acts spread around the smallest stages. Suffice to say, actually catching anything at all proved pretty difficult, although the always enjoyable Mr B. played a great set which at least lifted our spirits momentarily. Unfortunately, the overall feeling was disappointment at the lack of entertainment on offer (although the trapeze girl hanging from a balloon over the lake was quite the spectacle), and we returned to our tents to have a cup of tea with our new neighbours.
Friday morning we got up early to have a wander around the village (with its excellent supermarket and stalls), before heading for the Sunrise stage (the thirds stage, set away from the main arena among the trees) to catch Braids. Lead singer Raphaelle looked very comfortable playing in the low tent among the trees, and as the sun shone the lilting keyboard trills and shuffling drums created a great start to the day. “Lemonade” proved to be the highlight for me, although the whole set blended together well to add to the atmosphere.
After a certain amount of scuffling between stages and food arenas (populated with an excellent hog roast roll), we found ourselves once again back at the Sunrise arena for Phantom Band, on the recommendation of a friend. As lead singer Rick Antony approached the mic (sporting an impressive beard), guitarist Duncan hit the first notes of “Folk Song Oblivion”, and the tent started to bounce. Despite their recordings sounding light and folky, live the band are a much more raw experience, pushing closer to rock and really getting the crowd going. An excellent set really picked me up after a couple of hours of aimless wandering with little more than the dated country of Wanda Jackson to entertain me.
A brief stop to catch Isobel Campbell and Mark Laneghan on the Obelisk (main stage) reaffirmed my distaste for blues folk – sounding like one long dirge, spattered with guest appearances, I couldn’t engage with the band or their music at all. Campbell looked a little lost, Laneghan looked uncomfortable, and the set itself felt too drawn out to really get into. We then stayed for KT Tunstall, who managed to draw a decent crowd by banging out the hits and maintaining her cheery charm throughout. Her highlight was probably “Black Horse and the Cherry Tree”, if only for the singalong “WooHoos” and their ability to get the kids to put the BlackBerrys down for a second.
Bright Eyes came on next, and frontman Connor Oberst seemed determined to play a rockier set than many expected. Reaffirming his position as an entertaining frontman and songwriter, Bright Eyes captivated most of the audience, although for me their set was a little bland – I enjoy their music in the car, but don’t feel it translates so well into the live format. Following up was Paloma Faith, bringing with her a unique brand of style-over-substance, although a cover of Nick Cave’s “Into My Arms” went down well, and hit single “New York” got the kids at the front singing with tears in their eyes. Paloma didn’t shake my belief that she is a quirky character with little musical talent, but judging by the sizeable crowd, I could very well be in the minority.
Despite catching a variety of bands for the rest of the day, little stood out (although Caribou’s pop stylings made what I caught of their set entertaining, particularly when playing hit track “Odessa”), so we decided to forgo the big names of Bombay Bicycle Club and The National to watch Dizraeli and the Small Gods in the poetry tent. Slam award winning poet Diz was on his finest form, with a stripped back band playing a more intimate acoustic set to a packed tent, and getting everyone therein singing along to a great mix of folk-rap hybrids interspersed with some spoken word pieces. A standing ovation at the end (a near unheard-of phenomenon in the sedate Poetry tent), along with two hypnotic dancing hippies at the front built a great atmosphere of intimacy, and reaffirmed my continued belief that whatever form Diz is playing in, he’s deserving of a much higher status. Definitely one to catch at every opportunity.
Our final stop was the Cabaret tent, to catch a show called The Razzle. Promising to recreate the vibe of a 1961 disco, unfortunately it seemed to comprise of little more that a well-wigged DJ spinning old tunes, with host Ronnie King flouncing around with two girls on his arm. After ten minutes of pretty much nothing happening, we cut our losses, and left wondering at what point anyone considered The Razzle any kind of show at all.
So, Thursday was a shame – with little to see and do, many people had to resort to trying to squeeze into two of the smallest tents to see anything (I deliberately forwent the screening of Oldboy with the Guillemots playing a live soundtrack for fear of crowd surges!). Friday was somewhat better, although often the biggest highlights were to be found in the Sunrise stage, as the Obelisk seemed content to play large amounts of blues, country and pop which didn't fit with my idea of the festival vibe. Overall, however, the festival itself started with more of a small pop than a bang – a less engaging line up and overcrowding at many of the stages and tents was at least tempered by the introduction of some great smaller acts who pulled off some real festival “moments”.
