Keane |
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Thu. July 01.2004 12:00 AM EDT |
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Going Ga-Ga for GlastonburyThe annual British bash makes room for newbies like the Killers and Keane and vets like Morrissey and McCartney. And what about that homegrown Pad Thai? by C. Bottomley |
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(Courtesy of Domino Records) |
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A man walks by in a red Mohawk, wearing an equally red dress, and pushing a baby carriage. Another man allows people to beat him with a stick for three English pounds. A giant steel pirate ship trundles by, covered with a crew of refugee revelers -
This is all business as usual at the Glastonbury Festival, a fixture on the English music calendar since 1971, when the one-pound admission entitled you to a headlining set by Marc Bolan and free milk from the farm whose acreage is the event's home. In the ensuing three decades, Glastonbury has truly fulfilled the Woodstock ethos of peace, love and freakdom (in England, it's called "eccentricity"). For three days each summer, over 180,000 campers and vendors descend on the Worthy Farm fields, which this year was decked with 14 stages, a theatre, a circus, and a dating service. Diversity rules at Glastonbury. This year's headliners range from prog tykes Muse to the Britpop stalwarts Oasis to McCartney, the daddy of them all. For the hipsters, there was Franz Ferdinand, the Rapture and Goldie Lookin Chain, Wales' demented answer to the Wu-Tang Clan. Stalwarts like Bonnie Raitt, Love and James Brown were also on hand. And this year, for the first time ever, the English National Opera performed an excerpt of Richard Wagner's The Valkyrie on the central Pyramid Stage. This being Britain, there were certain factors to take into account. It will most definitely rain and you will most definitely be covered in mud. No matter how tasty it might have seemed, the Pad Thai bought from the back of someone's van will eventually make you viciously sick. And chances are good you'll be kept up all night by your tent neighbor's ad hoc reggae sound system. On Friday, Scottish fops Franz Ferdinand's took the Other Stage determined to draw blood. Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy's buzzsaw guitars locked together into one scorching post-punk-pop riff after another, blasting through the likes of "Matinee" and "Take Me Out." The Franzes aren't quite as cool as you'd expect they all leapt off the drum riser at their final chord like they were Iron Maiden but we love them anyway. Over at the New Stage, the Bees tried to deal with being labeled leaders of the new and highly suspect "shroomadelica" movement, a music press term for a craze that finds bands munching hallucinogenics and aping the Beatles. The band members steadily swapped instruments, but the way they flitted through soul and country pastiches made them seem like an overstaffed Ween. For those seeking heartwarming emotion, Elbow's set was the answer. After years of obscurity, the Manchester band finally broke big in 2003 with Cast of Thousands, a collection of lighter-waving anthems whose closing track "Grace Under Pressure," actually incorporated the sound of a Glastonbury crowd singing one of their lyrics. This time, the audience needed no prompting to join in. The band were touched, and it couldn't help but produce a lump in the throat. Oasis used to be good at that sort of thing, too. Now they're strictly on autopilot. Dressed up in a white winter coat that made him look like a cokehead Santa Claus, Liam Gallagher kept his swagger to himself. Two generic new songs, "A Bell Will Ring" and "The Meaning Soul," however, could have used a bit of arrogance. Things improved if you turned away from the lifeless band to face the crowd, where you could witness their transformation to an eerie choir as they sang the chorus to "Champagne Supernova." The next night Paul McCartney showed them how an oldies act worked. Fireworks went off for "Live and Let Die," Kleenexes came out for "The Long and Winding Road," and "Hey Jude" went on forever. There are signs of wear McCartney talked about John Lennon as if he never really knew him and played "Here Today" to emphasize the fact. But any set that includes "All My Loving," "Drive My Car," and "Helter Skelter" should be considered somewhat fab. McCartney cast the longest shadow at Glastonbury, but plenty of older acts were out to prove they still had life in em. The latest version of Arthur Lee's Love treated a Saturday audience to generous dollops of his 1967 classic Forever Changes. Sister Sledge's sisterhood is down to two, but their splendid vocals brought "Lost in Music" and "Good Times" to life. And before McCartney came on, the Rutles played their own richly orchestrated Beatles parodies like "Piggy in the Middle." None of these acts have aged quite like James Brown, who has added "Soul General" to his many honors and wore the black epaulets to prove it. Now on the wrong side of 70, Brown and his band are tight enough to make Franz Ferdinand weep, while his on-stage fancies are more surreal than any "shroomadelica" act could hope for. Who else could take the question, "Shall I count it off?" and turn it into a whole routine in itself? Call him what you want Brown is as close to God as many of us will ever come. Although they thrive on the blood of their elders, it's the new bands that left everyone talking. The Killers have the richest repertoire of stolen bits, and their Saturday afternoon set at the New Stage drew one of the biggest crowds. They quickly won over the crowd with a string of Hot Fuss highlights, ultimately showing that beneath the New Order basslines and Sisters of Mercy keyboards are some great songs. Smarting at how convincingly a Las Vegas band can put on their Gothic raincoats, Hope of the States tried some Sigur Ros epic rock, but their sonic seascapes had more chop than swells. On an Other Stage decorated with shrubbery, British Sea Power trumped them all by sounding like no one but themselves; then, for a climactic freak-out, trashed with the stage with the help of a man in a giant bear costume. The most demented ensemble had to be Goldie Lookin' Chain. Made up of a floating membership that can bloat up to 14 people, their Sunday night Dance Tent set was a deliriously shambolic affair. Their rudimentary 80s samples, dated B-boy wear and constant references to smoking "draw" put one in mind of the Beasties. But when they all rhyme together, it has the demented beauty of a Welsh choir. Except a Welsh choir would be never sing lines like "your mother has a penis." The weather was the weekend's sharpest critic. On Saturday, the precipitation let up for piano trio Keane, whose singer, Tom Chaplin, is convinced he's Bruce Springsteen. Racing from one end of the stage to the other, Chaplin punched the air at the crescendos of songs like "Somewhere Only We Know," and was the polar opposite of what you'd expect from hearing the band's rainy-day anthems on disc. Sunday's gathering storm clouds provided an appropriate backdrop for the English National Opera. There were some mud-splattered tuxedos in the crowd, but the mood for Die Valkyrie was more robust than reverential. The Valkyries were applauded, the evil Wotan was booed, and the crowd gave an ovation by lustily singing its famous theme heard in Apocalypse Now. If opera companies did encores, we could have been there all afternoon. With his name in giant lights behind him and warbling miserablist gems like "Shakespeare's Sister," Morrissey is turning into a Wayne Newton for the student set; he peppered his set with non-zingers like, "I bet you all feel disgusting. But don't worry, I feel like that every day." Morrissey may play the drama queen, but the festival got a thrilling send-off with Orbital's farewell gig on Sunday. Back when mushrooms were ecstasy and electronica was the next big thing, this techno duo was renowned for their euphoric Glastonbury appearances. Accompanied by a massive sound system and mind-boggling light show, the likes of "Halcyon On and On" and "Chime" blissed ravers young and old out one more time. They may be no more, but Glastonbury is certain to carry on their joyous spirit. |
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Morrissey |
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Keane |
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Marc Bolan |
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Paul McCartney |
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Muse |
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Oasis |
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Franz Ferdinand |
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Bonnie Raitt |
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James Brown |
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The Killers |
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