Fifty thousand people were gagging for the Stones’ first festival appearance in 31 years, but things didn’t get off to a great start. A tenth-rate Supertramp isn’t what the world needs now, but The Feeling mistakenly disagrees. More “Easy Listening for the TV Ad Generation” followed from Groove Armada. This is fine unless you remember the Stereo MCs, from whom the entire style is plagiarized. Snow Patrol’s anthemic music was all a bit squeaky-clean for a festival headlining slot, as the stream of punters heading for bed demonstrated.
Saturday dawned with Donovan, the original UK Peace and Love troubadour, last seen at the IOW Festival in 1971. Mass sing-alongs to “Sunshine Superman” and “Mellow Yellow” suited the mood perfectly.
The impressive left-field funk and ska of the utterly charming Amy Winehouse had the whole field jumping. The cleverness of what she does is taking traditional musical formats and cheekily tweaking them. Total fun, as were Wolfmother, who brazenly usurped the approach of the honorary patron Saint of the Isle of Wight, Jimi Hendrix.
Ash blew it by trying out new material on a crowd which wasn’t really up for it. A lovely band, they do miss Charlotte Hatherley to fill out their sound. Kasabian then came close to stealing the whole show with a set of deceptive subtlety. Sadly, this highlight competed directly with the island’s own brilliant Bees, relegated to the Hipshaker tent but standing out as the most honest and genuine act on show.
Muse’s preposterous pomp-rock triumphed because of its sheer bravado. Coming across like a modern-day Liberace, the Persil-white Matt Bellamy was second only to Jagger in the weekend’s showmanship stakes. The plan was to blow the audience away, and the plan worked.
Sunday was a delightfully eclectic mish-mash of crazy contrasts. Country Joe followed by Melanie C, anyone? At least any musical tribalism was cheerfully absent. Sporty Spice’s performance was somewhat overshadowed by the revelation that the Stones and their stage set were coming in by private ferry and that the 200-strong entourage was staying at Keith Richards’ West Wittering mansion, Redlands (the scene of THAT bust).
The distressingly bland James Morrison provided an ideal opportunity for a mass nap. Enough singer-songwriters! But an exception to that rule was cheery Scotsman Paolo Nutini, who has a hint of Winehouse in his sideways approach, cool image, daft demeanour and willingness to rock. Anyone with the chutzpah to entertain the audience with extracts from the Jungle Book will always be a festival hit.
The unremittingly frantic Fratellis joined many other bands in employing a brass section. Trumpets may be this season’s thing, but the Fratellis won’t be so long-lived. Already they seem to be in a career cul-de-sac like the similar (but better) Supergrass.
Dealing with mammoth drug problems in Sussex: There was something deliciously fateful about Keane preceding the Stones. In keeping with the day’s eclecticism, their huge sing-alongs and undeniable quality ironically made them a perfect warm-up for the rock and roll maelstrom that was to follow. Literally exploding onto the stage with “Start Me Up,” the old troupers certainly understand how to turn an event into an occasion. The first fifteen minutes was a brilliant demonstration of their rhythm and blues roots, and bringing on Paulo Nutini and Amy Winehouse for duets with Mick Jagger was an act of pure genius: The best of the weekend’s upstarts learning from the masters of rock and roll. Paulo’s contribution to “Love In Vain,” in particular, was the outstanding moment of the festival. But the Stones were by no means at their best, some of the technology being over-taxed by the unfamiliar environment. The two songs fronted by Keith, “Wanna Hold You” and “Slipping Away,” allowed the momentum to slip, and he himself was off form on guitar, fluffing several intros and frequently drifting out of key. Did any of this matter? Not much, because the man is such a total hero to the entire audience that just to be so near to him and the rest of the Stones felt like a privilege.
Wonderful music, great organisation, a nice environment; everything a festival should be.
--Oliver Gray
