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In contrast to Janelle, Katy B cut a lonely figure but, with the audience suitably hyped, she did a fine job of keeping the party going. Sporting new flame coloured locks, she bounced around the stage with as much enthusiasm as the early assembled crowd. Her 30 minute set featured tracks from her debut album On A Mission and the likes of Movement and Louder turned Hyde Park in a hot, beer soaked, sweaty club.
With most of the crowd seeming to favour J Cole and Digitalism over on the Pepsi Max stage, Ke$ha played to a surprisingly thin crowd. Dressed in an outfit which would have made tomorrow's main stage diva Grace Jones blush, she squawked her way through bubblegum pop hits includes We R Who We Are and Tik Tok, flanked by an army of scantily-clad dancers. Perhaps more suited to yesterday's bill, her theatrics didn't impress the club-crowd.
Dagenham's Devlin drew a huge crowd to the Pepsi Max stage. Hailed for playing with a band and combining grime, rock and rap a la Plan B, it was a disappointing set as much of the tension and angst that made his debut album Bud Swear and Beers is drowned out along with his lyrics, which are indecipherable over the fuzzy PA.
After the grandiose pop of last night and the promise of an historic headline set from Pulp tomorrow, tonight's headliners seemed somewhat understated. Hidden behind their decks, The Chemical Brothers let their music do the talking and their visuals put on the show. With the sun setting over Hyde Park, they bang out a relentless set including crowd pleasers Hey Boy, Hey Girl, Block Rockin' Beats and Swoon, while Do It Again/Get Yourself High and Star Guitar kept fans happy. They do exactly what it says on the tin, and while there are no surprises, it rounds off nicely the increasingly eclectic 'dance' day.
It’s becoming tough to remember when The Horrors were
treated as a bit of a Shoreditch in-joke – floppy-haired electro goths
whose arrival seemed to signal the bonfire of the scenesters.
Suddenly, and due in no small part due to Portishead’s Geoff
Barrow honing them into a slick, post-rock shoegaze outfit, they’ve
become one of the most interesting, relevant acts around. Even in the
middle of the day the quintet are a powerful, urgent force that, while
not exactly inspiring mass sing-alongs among a slightly non-plussed
crowd, show they have the chops to turn in glacial, stadium-sized
anthems. And as Still Life and Moving Further Away from the soon-to-be
released Skying record are set highlights, you can be sure they’re
around for a few more festivals to come.
Over at the Pepsi Max stage, The Naked and Famous (who are
definitely not the first, more’s the pity, and only fleetingly the
second) are turning in a workmanlike set of summery Antipodean
electroclash. While the opening double whammy of All of This and
Punching in a Dream seem to signal a muscular, poppy set, they soon
get bogged down in some pretty forgettable, synth-heavy dirges, while
lead singer Alisa Xayalith manfully tries to keep the interest of a
waning crowd. Only excellent single Young Blood, when it finally
comes, really ignites the audience.
TV On The Radio are a little bit hit and miss live – their
jittery, bass heavy funk-rock isn’t designed to fill stadiums, so a
set in front of 40,000 disinterested Pulp fans could have been a
recipe for disaster. Luckily, perhaps inspired by the thoughts of
Jarvis’ Tigger-like energy, they are on top form, blasting out a
pulverising greatest hits set that nigh-on shakes the leaves from Hyde
Park’s distant trees. Halfway Home, Staring at the Sun and Wolf Like
Me sound sexy, lean and immense even in the vast space. Lead singer
Tunde Adebimpe, resplendent in a natty suit/tie combo whirls around
the stage like a dervish, obviously revelling in the attention.
In the straight face off between Foals’ square mathematical
post-rock and Grace Jones high-camp pop, most festival goers choose a
combination of the latter and lounging about in the sun sipping
overpriced Pimms (Common People, right?). It’s a shame as Foals spend
the majority of their set staking a claim as future
headliners-in-waiting, with a euphoric, angular and ferociously
danceable set culled predominantly from second record Total Life
Forever. In contrast to their slightly oblique presence on record,
Yannis Philippakkis’ band pulls off being swaggering rockstars with
aplomb, with Blue Blood and Spanish Sahara especially frenetic,
elbows-flailing high points.
- Wireless 2011:
Part 1 |
Part 2 |
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