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On the 9th September myself, two Versus cohorts and another hundred people departed on two coaches from Lime Street to attend what I consider to be one of the finest events on offer. Eight hours and a ferry later we were on the Isle Of Wight.
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equate feast of music, whilst a relentless approach to fire ensured that there seemed to be a pyrotechnic display in all corners of the festival, the most impressive being the show at the huge La Machine-esque arachnid. Its metal legs breathed flames and sported brave acrobats hanging from its frame. A fabulous spectacle. Bestival has garnered a reputation as being a
friendly, intimate festival and one that is relatively young (Rob Da Bank founded it in 2004). Intimate it no longer is having grown ten fold in capacity since its debut but the atmosphere is palpable and infectious. I have stood in dance tents amazed at the lack of people not even bothering to pretend that they’re having a good time. Shapes were thrown all over the place from the Big Top to the Polka Tent where Brothers Durundi flaunted their irresistible, one-key brand of deranged gypsy fuckabout until the early hours on Sunday morning. Friday night was no doubt all about the DJs
in Big Top and it was here that Magda demonstrated an extreme sensitivity in how to make a crowd move. Gorgeous minimalism and pulsing basslines provided a solid foundation for Dave Clarke’s lesson in possessed techno. For any of you interested in melody and all that shit, I don’t think I heard one discernible note but his dystopian approach to persistent white-noise-filter beats created a sound-scape to all of those nightmares you absolutely loved. I was brought up on Roxy Music by my father
so it was with apprehension that I went to see them play on the main stage now that Bryan Ferry does Marks and Spencers adverts and his son is a tit about foxes in parliament. Eno left for a reason right? But it was some- where in the middle of ‘Both Ends Burning’ that I rea- lised what a magical outfit they are still capable of being. To see everybody sing along to one of the darkest hits
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of the Seventies ‘In Every Dream Home A Heartache’ was a memorable moment. ‘Inflatable doll. I blew up your body and you
blew my mind.’ Ferry’s showmanship was straight out of the textbook but that didn’t stop me revelling in the glorious cliché of his performance. Next The Flaming Lips treated me and my
friends to one of the most extraordinary festival perfor- mances we’d ever seen. And we said that in Glaston- bury 2003. From the moment Wayne Coyne ran over the hands of the crowd in a giant silver ball, to the close of the set and a heart-busting rendition of ‘Do You Real- ize?’, it was just irrepressible brilliance. A journey, and the highlight of Bestival. They are the guests that never want to leave and the twenty thousand people there
Bestival
certainly didn’t want them to either. By Sunday we all felt depraved and our friend
Karl had been so unfunny it wasn’t even funny anymore. With our bodies shocked and tired we danced like un- cles to the slick and silver Chic (who seem to have writ- ten every disco song you’ve ever heard) and then saved our energies for the close of the festival. I saw Caribou in The Deaf Institute six months
ago and possibly due to it being at the start of a tour, or because of poor sound it didn’t really translate and I was left slightly disappointed, having like a lot of us, regarded Swim to be one of the albums of 2010. This time they were mindblowing – heavy and
melodic, ranging their set from minimal, melancholic electronica to explosive post rock. They ended with ‘Sun’, as the night ascended into delirium and we await-
ed what will probably prove to be one of LCD Sound- system’s last festival appearances. Aside from a turbo rendition of that shit song
‘Drunk Girls’, LCD were captivating and I couldn’t fail to be amused by James Murphy’s contemporary, tongue- in-cheek humour during closer ‘Losing my Edge’ which he spent most of texting on his phone. ‘All My Friends’ and ‘Someone Great’ were genuinely moving moments, something I applaud this band for being able to achieve – behind their disco guitars and tight beats there is emo- tion and a warm, engaging social sensitivity. So to Bestival 2010, a weekend that I would
recommend to any person interested in seeing a glut- tonous amount of good music, indulging in a brilliant atmosphere and relishing a never ending offering of bi- zarre things to keep yourself entertained with. See you next time.
The best thing Karl that said – ‘that guy in the shit tin man outfit just hasn’t put his heart into it.’
The things that irritated me at Bestival –
The noise of people consuming laughing gas and the lack of laughing that follows. Four pounds for a can of Gaymers.
Ubiquitous drum ‘n’ bass music and accompany- ing irksome drum ‘n’ bass attitude.
Erecting a tent in the middle of the night. A self inflicted problem. Thomas Gorton
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