Primal Scream give Camp Bestival 2011 a fitting send-off

In a summer when no lesser an expert than Michael Eavis has suggested the festival market may be heading into a decline and speculation has surrounded the financial future of Oxfordshire's Truck, Camp Bestival appears to be an event in rude health.

Set in beautiful rolling grounds in the back garden of Dorset's Lulworth Castle, Bestival's baby brother knows its market – children and largely middle-class families – like the back of its fledgling hand – and delivers an event packed full of kids' entertainment surrounded by ample amounts of sponsorship and commercial partnerships, alongside a decent mix of bands to keep their parents happy.

With such a strong family appeal and with a safe, benign atmosphere, booking Primal Scream to close the show looked a bold and risky choice.

With members who've amassed a sizeable reputation for enjoying the odd narcotic adventure or two and with frontman Bobby Gillespie prone to some fairly petulant, profanity-heavy performances, the Scream are hardly a band of Butlins Red Coats, booked to send the little ones off to bed with a soothing lullaby.

But looking across the crowd packed in front of Camp Bestival's main stage awaiting their arrival tonight, every 10th person seems to be wearing a red Screamadelica T-shirt and by the time The Scream make a low-key entrance, the anticipation is palpable from adults and kiddywinks alike.

Gillespie mumbles a quick "hello" and we're up and running with 'Moving On Up' as the stage lights up with the album's classic backdrop.

Immediately, it's obvious that the gamble of giving these gnarled old rockers the headline slot has paid off as halogens burst from the top of the stage, and the acoustic guitar intro powers through the humid summer night. At the chorus, gospel backing singers join in and the whole place goes nuts.

'Slip Inside This House' follows, with Gillespie managing a pretty coherent "There's a beautiful castle over there" at it's conclusion. They stick to the plan of playing Screamadelica almost in its entirety, following up with 'Don't Fight It, Feel It'.

Primal Scream are clearly not here simply to pick up the pay cheque and run. Gillespie, in a loose silken shirt, paces the stage, demanding more from the crowd, and is on his best behaviour. The bleak, comedown opening of 'Higher Than The Sun' is opened out into a 10-minute-long Led Zep-esque instrumental workout, the singer standing triumphant atop the drum riser, shaking the shit out of his maracas and clapping above his head.

When they're done, the Scottish frontman mutters "I'm going to ask you a question and I want to know the answer" and the unmistakable opening sample of 'Loaded' crackles into being. A few dozen kids, up way past their bedtimes, appear on proud parents' shoulders as one of the rallying cry anthems of early-90s youth culture is extended into a seven-minute hymnal experience in an unlikely setting.

'Come Together' is a similarly towering gospel success as the stage's backdrop becomes a psychedelic, spiralling pattern.

Mani remains statuesque throughout their 11-song set, moving not more than a foot from his bass stack, as if concerned a naughty child will make off with it. They take a break from Screamadelica, dedicating 'Country Girl' to "all the girls" and merging into the jagged, Stonesy opening of 'Jailbird'.

The stage is bathed in red light as they move into their last number, a lengthy and dedicated tearing through of 'Rocks'. Any doubts about the Scream's suitability or motivation for the occasion have been resolutely tossed aside as one of the defining and most iconic rock 'n' roll bands of the past two decades have thrown everything into their 11-song set, leaving to demands for more as Camp Bestival's closing fireworks light up the Dorset sky and a beautiful and touching animated light show dances across the walls of the castle.

Earlier, the day had belonged to New York reggae act Easy Star All Stars, who treated us to equal pickings from each of their genius re-workings of classic albums – Dub Side Of The Moon, Radiodread and Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Dub Band and a handful of tracks from their first self-penned album 'First Light'. The Radiohead covers 'Let Down', given new life with a rasping trombone solo in its breakdown, and 'Climbing Up The Walls', a dark, seedy song, somehow injected with a huge dose of innocent reggae joy, are the highlights, and they finish with 'Money', making the Pink Floyd anthem entirely their own with a massive sax section.

Ade Edmondson, TV star of The Young Ones and Bottom, had kicked off the day on the Main Stage, with his band The Bad Shepherds, and they prove they're deserving of attention beyond their frontman's celebrity status.

The three-piece reward an early-afternoon crowd with folk re-workings of 'I Fought The Law', 'Up The Junction', Kraftwerk's 'The Model', 'The Sound Of The Suburbs' and a brilliant, closing 'White Riot'.

The songs sparkle with impressive musicianship through extended jams on guitar, mandolin, fiddle and bouzouki, and The Shepherds more than deserve their large crowd.

The Selecter bring some two-tone ska to proceedings on The Main Stage, still looking and sounding as relevant and incisive as they did three decades ago. Vocalist Pauline Black is passionate and endearing as they bring back memories for a few hundred mums and dads and treat us to faultless versions of 'Time Hard', 'They Make Me Mad', Too Much Pressure' and 'On My Radio', seemingly bemused to be playing to a crowd of almost entirely white, middle-class families.

Elsewhere, The Correspondents absolutely defy genre-specific pigeon-holing. Led by a singer apparently dressed as a camp knight from the future, they throw swing beats, scratching, scat singing and gaudy horns into the mix, even taking in a bizarre cover of the Jungle Book's 'I Wanna Be Like You'. Very odd stuff.

With Nero a no-show, it's left to Beardyman to fill an hour-long warm-up slot for Primal Scream, and while he keeps the crowd amply entertained, bashing out 'Sweet Dreams', '7 Nation Army', 'Smack My Bitch Up' and 'Use Somebody', the array of technical kit on stage has seen him become less an extraordinary beatboxer and more an unremarkable DJ and MC.

It doesn't matter though, everyone's here to see whether Primal Scream can give Camp Bestival 2011 a fitting send-off.

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