V Festival, Hylands Park, Chelmsford <!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

Nick Hasted
Monday 21 August 2006 19:00 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Around 11pm on Saturday night, the V Festival reaches its peak, as Radiohead surprise everyone with "Creep". Thom Yorke's drains the song of adolescent angst in favour of sad, soft feelings, characterising their remarkable headlining slot. Far from a greatest hits set, they play three new songs, including one which transforms rock into cool blue-note jazz. Here, Radiohead prove it is possible to play challenging music to a massive festival crowd.

But V's usual faults remain. It has no atmosphere, and fans are financially gouged. On the other hand, the line-up finally makes it a serious rival to Reading.

Though Saturday is bracketed by rainbursts, the sun comes out for The Magic Numbers' summery folk-rock. Racing to the festival's smaller stages, you can just catch Echo and the Bunnymen, as an unusually sober Ian McCulloch puffs clouds of smoke through "The Killing Moon".

Keane's vapid angst then drives most sensible people from the main stage for some time, where gems await. My Morning Jacket provide the festival's first great moment, as their guitarists slam into an ear-splitting encapsulation of Seventies Southern rock.

Sunday offers a series of solo performers wrestling with their pasts in great bands. James Dean Bradfield plays two Manic Street Preachers favourites, but his new songs offer more joyous, intelligent energy than the Manics have managed in some time.

The eternally unsung Beautiful South get the weekend's most passionately hedonistic crowd. The sight of couples happily singing along to "Song for Whoever", the most openly cynical love song ever, must warm Paul Heaton's heart. The Crimea's bundle of sexual angst Davey Macmanus is another festival winner, not least for jumping into the crowd while singing "Jealous Guy".

Which leaves Morrissey. Before a backdrop of Oscar Wilde, he addresses his infamous past by splicing The Smiths' "Panic" and the recent "The First of the Gang to Die", demonstrating that both are superb. He is in a feisty mood, stripping his shirt to appear as a middle-aged, homoerotic sculpture in the shadows, and protesting simultaneously against Virgin Radio and Tony Blair. The Smiths' "How Soon is Now" is merely a pleasant coda to the weekend's second proof that thinking, life-enhancing music is what festivals really need.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in