Apart from the gorgeous weather the first real shock of the weekend comes from ROLF HARRIS opening the Pyramid Stage. Whether it’s the spirit of the festival or just the inebriated haze of the previous two days, he makes a perfect connection with the huge crowd. Sun-A-Rise distils the hippie spirit many must have found the night before at the stone circle and Two Little Boys has grown men close to tears with its delicate poignancy. He also plays Tie Me Kangaroo Down twice.
That afternoon SNOOP DOGG takes to the Pyramid Stage. While most of the vast crowd must be here through curiosity, it’s a testament to the open mindedness of the festival that he nearly owns the entire weekend. His presence and command of an audience has everyone captivated within minutes and a set littered with crowd pleasers propels him to being the surprise hit of the weekend. While much of this genre borders on detestable, when done with skill and humour it’s one of the most visceral and empowering forms of mainstream pop. He’s the name on everyone’s lips for days afterwards.
VAMPIRE WEEKEND follow and with a crowd already buoyed by Snoop Dogg, they absolutely capture the moment. Bleary eyed and in the afternoon sun with some of your best mates there is no better soundtrack than their punchy African tinged power pop and mass dancing and singing inevitably follow. Unfortunately, hearing that we’ve missed THOM YORKE’s secret show in The Park takes some of the shine from the moment in hindsight, at the time it was close to perfect.
We then witness DIZZEE RASCAL’s total transformation into a bona-fide popstar. Dispensing with backing tracks for a worryingly professional band, his music lacks some of the dirt that made it so exciting when he burst onto the scene. Instead he now seems reliant on massive choruses: luckily these are fucking colossal. An encore of two number ones and a guest appearance from FLORENCE WELCH gain an unbelievable reaction, though it’s hard to gage where he could possibly go from here without lapsing into parody.
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The inclusion of GORILLAZ as replacement headliners for the absent U2 caused a stir when first announced. While it may be a far more intriguing prospect, surely intrigue is the last thing you want from the headliner of a massive festival. The crowd and the expectation are equally huge, with everyone willing Damon Albarn to steal the show just as he did last year. Unfortunately the set never lifts off. Apart from the visually impressive opening there’s nothing to captivate an audience beyond the front few rows.
Albarn does little to engage the crowd, holds his potential anthems back far too long and then acts petulant when an attempted singalong to Pirate Jet doesn’t quite come off. The array of guest stars looks spectacular on paper, (SHAUN RYDER, MARK E. SMITH and LOU REED all appear in successive songs) but without any sense of spectacle or showmanship they inexplicably pass by unnoticed.
The returning onstage presence of Snoop Dogg for a guest rap on the closing Clint Eastwood sparks the crowd into rapturous applause and reinforces just how impressive his earlier set really was. It’s the first real magical Glastonbury moment and sets us up for a night of wide eyed exploration in the Fields Of Avalon.
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