AGCS @ Summer Sundae : Saturday

Day two of Summer Sundae and no-ones tired yet, oh no, as we head indoors for Her Name Is Calla (///). A local band that I’d seen before (without realising it) who overall impressed, LOUDquietLOUD type of thing, executed very well with added strings and brass (which is obviously always a bonus).

Next up it’s outside for what turned out to be the worst act I saw of the weekend, a pastiche of Johnny Cash taken very seriously in the form of Mr Plow( ). Every bit of between-song-banter is clearly perfectly rehearsed, although not enough to stop some deviations from the script which were painfully obvious through the attempted resolve. Personally, when an ‘artist’ can go from a broad Leicester accent to mid-west American it makes me be sick in my mouth and want to spit it into the faces of people that fall for it.

Back inside for Yunioshi (/) who sounded ace on their Myspace but due to ‘technical errors’ which seemed to involve the laptop containing the gold failing, they fall flat on their faces. Shame.

Then it’s back outside for Frontiers (//), who are OK but not close enough to The Cure (as suggested in their press release) to make them good. They didn’t grab my attention and if music aint doing that folks, then what’s the point?

However, Minnaars (////) are up on the main stage next and despite (having seen them before) thinking that it would be too big for them, they pretty much fucking nailed it. Heavily reliant on the laptop yes, but the live playing was impressive still. It seemed they were aware they were on the whole playing to the wrong audience but they still went for it and so did the younger folks down the front.

The Joy Formidable (///) (or The Joy Formidab as announced by the ‘I’m going to pretend I like your band when I announce it but not watch any of your set’ compère Richard) were pretty good. Boy Girl vocals I always like, and the set was good despite the two songs that have been getting radio play being their best songs by far.

Next it’s into the Rising Tent that delivered so much the day before, and it delivered again with what was probably the set of the festival from The Kabeedies (/////). Great songs, I mean REALLY great songs, boy/girl vocals, genuinely funny banter, fun stage presence. We were all pretty enthralled for the entirety of the set. All from a little newish band from Norwich. Take that The Zutons.

Back to the main for the so-called ‘Arcade Fire + Scotland’ Broken Records (//), who were good not great. For personal consumption, you might as well listen to the arcade fire. NEXT…

Emmy The Great (///), who was also good not Great. The songs are nice and her voice is beautiful, but something weird was in the air and it seemed she was a bit distracted which was obviously a shame.

On the main stage Bombay Bicycle Club (////) got the children going, and too right. They’ve released one of the best debut albums of 2009 and seem to be relishing the crowd getting into it. What they didn’t know was the children would dance to anything that either had a NME mention or a bear, but BBC were deserving and I look forward to catching them at Offset next month (review to come).

65daysofstatic (/////) inside provided me with the loudest set I have any seen at any festival or gig (previously held by the Mooney Suzuki, 2004), and it fucking rocked. Again, like Minanars they were playing largely to the wrong crowd but people seemed to get into them in their own way, and they were tight as. Plus, the front man balanced his guitar on his chin mid song! YEAH!

Over to the Rising again for Frank Turner (//) who was fine but very preachy, too preachy for me in fact so I pop over to catch the second half of Hugh Cornwell (of The Stranglers) (//) set which is alright, a couple of the hits seemed to go down well with the largely menopausal crowd.

Mr Hudson (/////) on the indoor stage is next, with what he later described as one of his favourite gigs ever and it was indeed very impressive. Last (and first) time I saw Hudson was at 10.50AM at Glastonbury and it was unsurprisingly lacklustre however at night it’s a whole different story, and it does feel a bit like a singles set despite the crowd only knowing the one which he obviously, and rightly, saves until last.

Following Mr Hudson is little shit Chipmunk ( ). Any artist that promotes a single/album (including release date) before they have performed a single note can fuck right off. But seen as the kids fell for it and he wasn’t going anywhere, I had to do the honour.

Greg