People are still literally fighting their way through the crowds to get through the security barriers as Future Of The Left take to the stage at midday on Friday.
As waves of waylaid fans finally break against the stage-front, the Cardiff trio surf through their awesome debut album, buoyed by such fervent support at such an ungodly hour. Andy Falkous swaps Roland keyboard for his filth guitar as Kelson Mathias produces lolly-pops from his back pockets and scatters them across the crowd, and the band hammer through a set that reminds me why I give a damn about music in the first place.
Next up are Blood Red Shoes who are met with an ecstatic reception at their biggest festival date yet. The audio is fantastic for their set as the gifted duo produce a sound fuller than most bands could muster this weekend. Laura-Mary is that most mouth-watering of women, a great guitarist – but this is no one-woman-show: unlike Meg White, Steven Ansell’s wiry frame is spring-loaded with kinetic energy, going off like an over-wound clockwork toy, producing a blistering wall of percussion. The band are quite comfortable up there, treating the crowd to a rendition of a new track before finishing up with the fantastic ‘I Wish I Was Someone Better’, before these beggars ride off into the afternoon sun.
These were to be the last inspiring performances of the afternoon, however. Be Your Own Pet were up next and took to the stage in drunken dishevelment, careering dissonantly through unrecognisable 30-second tracks and belligerently announcing their impending split to a largely nonplussed crowd. The band convulsed and shook through a set that the Sex Pistols would have considered discordant, unable to even stay upright throughout, as the band imploded before our very eyes. While admittedly amusing to watch, they even failed to pull off their hit single ‘Adventure’ with any kind of success despite the audience’s frenzied anticipation at its opening chords. One may be forgiven for assuming that they’d been forced out onto the road for a final tour, such was their detachment from their performance, and with that the ‘Pet – who have now officially disbanded – went out with a whimper.
My woes were far from over, though, as I headed across the field to catch up with These New Puritans who bashed sloppily through a set of pretentious gesticulation and tuneless vocals while the audience quietly filed out to the neighbouring tent to stand at the periphery of Phil Jupitus’ surprisingly packed out improvised stand-up show.
As one of Dizzee’s entourage begged from the stage for the crowd to demand an encore from Mr. Rascal, I found my way to my first Main Stage performance of the day in anticipation of ex-System Of A Down vocalist, Serj Tankian’s solo appearance. Having been a fond admirer of System Of A Down from their debut album, I was to be again disappointed by a set that lacked vitality, as Serj sauntered around the main stage dressed in a pretentious, battered, white ringmaster outfit. As if bringing on a chavvy opera-singer from Wolverhampton to provide vocal accompaniment wasn’t insult enough to his long-standing fans, the interminable pounding of the kick drum was so high in the mix that it was all that could be heard from most points in the crowd.
