Friday review

After a summer of festivals bursting with the squalid rain, guts and muddy glory of a Somme battlefield, all it was going to take to stand out from the crowd was a bit of good weather and a few decent bands. But even if every festival had been a heaven-sent utopia with beautiful naked people frolicking and feeding each other grapes while The Beatles played four hour headline sets, Bestival would still probably pip everyone to the post and scoop up the accolade of best thing ever – as it has done every year of the four it has been made manifest on this planet we call earth.

It doesn’t start off so great though, as the traffic chaos that the Friday of each year’s festival is greeted with leaves most people queuing for up to three hours just outside the festival grounds trying to get in. As a result of this bottleneck, the festival gets off to a lazy start – most people just want to sit down and take the weight off after all that queuing rather than run about watching bands.

Once inside the beautiful surrounding of Robin Hill Adventure Park, things swiftly turn for the better and the weekend begins with a wake-up call performance by The Noisettes. Lead singer Shingai’s feathery headpiece looks like it’s been nicked from Jay Kay’s wardrobe, but it’s right in the spirit of this fancy dress festival. Despite the onstage flare, they’re a standard fare indie rock and roll act, with the exception of their one big tune ‘Scratch Your Name’ that makes a lasting impression.



Next up it’s over to the BBC Introducing stage to catch London three-piece The Duloks, a dirty girl group that sound like an even more lo-fi, more filthy version of The Moldy Peaches. Lead singer Mira is a pervvy little thing, telling sordid stories from her sex life between their minimal keyboard/drum kit ditties. What it lacks in musical proficiency it makes up for in humour.

Art punks XX Teens are next on stage and are one of the highlights of the weekend. They dress in smart white shirts and keep movement to a minimum, while two dancers in fish outfits cavort on the stage behind them. Lead singer Anthony doesn’t smile once the whole show, it’s fun just trying to distract him to raise a grin. Single ‘Darlin’’ predictably goes down the best, causing dance carnage.

Over at the Bollywood bar Buraka Som Sistema are cooking up a dirty baile-grime strom. The Portuguese dance outfit have beats as minimal as any UK grime classic, but they give it a Latino twist to create something visceral and new. With everyone by now pissed up on liquor, it’s the perfect thing to dance to.



Meanwhile, closing off the Friday night main stage line-up, The Chemical Brothers are an unfortunately middling affair. DJs will always be DJs and there’s no hiding that this headline show is decidedly unremarkable. Sure, everyone’s up for it, dancing, having fun etc. etc. etc. but they’ve become such a tired festival staple, they really don’t excite any more.

The entertainment doesn’t end here though; the Bestival party goes on 24 hrs a day. But having got up at 4am that morning to catch the ferry to the Isle Of Wight, this reviewer gives up the game and goes to bed, to recharge for a full day and night’s fun tomorrow.

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