Braving the elements – and the mudslingers – we arrived just in time to catch The Icicle Works whose opener, Hollow Horse brought with it some pretty impressive rainfall. Though, this wasn’t to deter McNabb & co from the job in hand, the great man - resplendent in the new 'Rock God' festival staples of shades and straw hat – praising the crowd for its perseverance. Occupying the difficult teatime slot, they proceeded to treat the soaked masses to a solid ‘hits' set including Little Girl Lost, the timelessly brilliant Love Is A Wonderful Colour and an extended Birds Fly (Whisper To A Scream) that segued (magically) into Magic Bus – a nod to the previous night’s headliners.
Next up was Joss Stone who, admittedly, I’m not the biggest fan of. Nor, for that matter, am I a fan of anybody that feels the need to have a chorus of backing singers chant their name soul style in order to herald their entrance to a stage (well, OK, there’s James Brown but he was James Brown). However, indifferent to my increasingly vocal dissatisfaction, Knowsley did seem to enjoy her set, so what do I know? A definite highlight was when a life-sized inflatable doll with a massive penis managed to crowd surf its was to the stage during Right To Be Wrong, prompting her to mock chastise “this is an emotional fucking song, you guys”. Served her right for telling the crowd that she was loving the near torrential rainfall it was enduring; helpfully noting that “it doesn’t rain in L.A.” Plenty of dancing and happy faces though, so she must’ve been doing something right...
Returning from the bar - to which I had made my escape from Joss’ bare-footed, over-stylized warblings - I bumped (literally) into a man wearing a Fez. Not something that has ever happened to me before, and when I complimented him on his adornment, he offered to sell it to me. As this came only moments after mistakenly acting upon an impulse that, if Ian McNabb could, I too could rock a straw hat (I’m blaming the warm Stella and, to be fair, I didn’t have a hood), I had to decline. It was only when Madness took to the stage and launched into the crowd-pleasing One Step Beyond that I twigged to the Nutty Boy connection. Enlivened by a combination of booze and the knowledge that it was now impossible to get any wetter, the crowd were more than ready to embrace Madness’ blend of good time Ska, and the band, in turn, didn’t disappoint. Hot from a not-so-secret show at Glastonbury the night before, Madness turned in a superb set, bursting at the seams with classics like Embarrassment, The Sun And The Rain, Our House, It Must be Love, My Girl, Baggy Trousers and pretty much anything else you'd have expected from them. They even threw in a cover of Peter Tosh’s stoner anthem Outta Space - they knew their audience. If success can be measured by the sight of thousands of people, soaked to the skin yet dancing like nutters, then Madness can be very happy with their night’s work.
With an impressive act to follow, local heroes The Zutons took to the stage at around 8.30, bringing with them both good weather and the biggest crowd of the day. And, in keeping with festival etiquette and all laws of good sense, Dave McCabe’s mob proceeded to treat the braying throng to a blistering ‘hits’ set. Kicking off with the infectious Why Won’t You Give me Your Love and followed in rapid succession by Dirty Dance Hall, Pressure Point (dedicated to Madness) and Hello Conscience, The Zutons opened their set with the urgency and raw aggression of wronged men (oh, and Abi), and who could blame them: they’d been robbed of the headline slot. Changing pace, the band then bedded in with stunning performances of country-tinged debut LP singles, Confusion and Remember Me - Dave McCabe showing no signs mellowing , dedicating the latter to any freeloaders who'd attempted to blag their way in (were the bands on a profits percentage deal? Who knows: every time I’ve seen them McCabe’s picked a fight with somebody – if memory serves, it was Evertonians last time). Next up was the sublime Valerie, which saw a devotional crowd echoing every word at deafening volume. This was followed hot on its heels by frenetic versions of crowd favourites Don’t Ever Think, Tired of Hanging Around and You Will You Won’t which heralded the second brilliant segue cover of the day, this time with the CSS' Let’s Make Love. By the time they’d closed the set with Zuton Fever the crowd had been whipped into a frenzy, ready for more of the same good time pop/ska/rock ‘n’ roll hybridity. It’s a pity all they were going to get was Keane.
I left at this point.
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