Saturday
Saturday had started well, my drinking had been in no way excessive and the love for my wax earplugs was immense. Today was carnival day, but I was worried my Sylvester the Cat outfit was going to be too hot. Splendidly though, if you don’t wear any clothes underneath, it’s quite breezy. The last few night I’d been sleeping in the costume, I completely underestimated how cold it would become. I’d brought a duvet and blow-up bed instead of a sleeping bag which pissed away all my body heat.
The daily paper that gets handed around the tents arrived. It went nicely with my beef soup and tea in a huge plastic. As well as a blow up bed, I brought a chair which I learned had become essential with any camping trip. Thought of selling both still crossed my mind though, remembering how much trouble it was getting them the hill into the park. I’d blown up the mattress at the car on a trip back to get more money in the dark. You get a lot of attention carrying a double mattress on your head through thousands of people.
One of the main music draws for this weekend was going to be Ben Howard. I headed to the Big Top early as was treated to Wiley as a special guest beforehand. I’d already put myself in a Ben Howard music frame of mind and humming tunes to myself. I’d found the railings at the front, so feigning interest about matey Wiley causing a heat wave at a club on a sombre Saturday morning was a challenge. Luckily he finished twelve minutes short of a forty minute set. Ok so there was good about him, his vocal skills are far beyond some of the tosh he’s released.
The Big Top was at capacity for Ben Howard and I’m glad I sat through Wiley to get where I was. As with Alt J, this was seemingly one of the acts that would go down a storm at the festival. Again the glee and sheer excitement and humility were apparent. He played through with such enthusiasm that it was a joy even just to look at him. Each song was altered to live play, extended in such a way that gave everything much more aggressive impact. ‘Keep Your Head UP’, now had an extra thundering instrumental payoff that had the crowd in raptures. ‘Old Pine’, ‘Only Love’ and ‘The Fear’ proved beautifully moving and uplifting, while the slow burn of ‘Black Flies’ cemented the band as future main stage performers. It was simply a fantastic, heartfelt performance.
It was then time for the parade. Unsure of how it all works, I went to what was dubbed the start next to a sign up tent. With all the elaborate stuff going on with flamingos, robots and brass bands, I thought best just to collect my free bottle of water I would have had for signing up and took refuge in the comedy tent. A few jokes about natural disasters later, I could see it kicking off. Visually it was quite stunning, and to have such a spectacle really makes this festival unique. The entire ethos of people in fancy dress, most for the entire duration, brings such a fun and care-free atmosphere to the entire event. I joined in at the back as it was going to end near the main stage where I decided to splash out on some Wagamamas before a night with Two Door Cinema Club and New Order.
I’m was very much there due to hype that has surrounded TDCC, the whole Obama business won me round to seeing them. They never struck me as a main stage band/performers, but there was definitely enough about the crowd to initially make me think otherwise. When it all kicked off, I finally understood it. It was uplifting, big field, sunny music. But there are only so much of the same electro-pop indie riffs that you dance around on the same spot too, so it did become a little tedious. It simply wasn’t captivating enough. It was able to grab a seat, maybe a paper, then perfect, but it simple didn’t require my full attention to enjoy. It was all very stagnant. Unfortunately the same can be said of New Order. Very lax in their approach, the band did nothing and it was left to the video accompanying each some to provide any sort of entertainment. Songs were played, True Faith and Blue Monday saved for the end of the set and it would have been left for true fans of New Order to figure out the rest. What was also meant to come across as an affectionate not to Ian Curtis, sincere as it was, I felt awkward with and the entire think just didn’t sit right. It started with a cover of Isolation, with which Bernard Sumner’s pub singer vocal fell flat. It felt horrible, the rawness of Curtis’ singing is what made Joy Division and brought the passion to the songs. It continued into the encore by with which time they had thoroughly proved they are a band with nothing new to offer.
Sunday
So that night would contain the final drink of the weekend, so I naturally made the most of it and paid dearly. Maybe a little bit of excessive boogying finally collapsed my knee. As if my calves hadn’t already been crying from all the hill walks I’d taken them on, now I was hobbling everywhere. To the Soul Lounge I headed and sat in a tiny garden with themed trees around me such as hope, dreams, fears etc. I wrote a few things down and tied them on. After a few days of living at a festival, melancholia can set in. It can be quite a powerful thing to go through after you’ve freed yourself from every real life trouble for a few days. You’re free to be and to contemplate changes you’d never get to the root of without such freedom and mental stimulation.
My daily Bestival paper hadn’t arrived and a special guest was promised to kick off the Main Stage, so I hop, skipped and jumped over to it. Special was the perfect work, on came Fake Kate Bush, it was a barmy yet strangely lovable performance of a few of Kates songs. Lucy Bundy, sporting a vibrant tutu, comic tribute would have probably been heckling in the real world, but magically most of the slumbering crowd were joining in on the crazy wailing, interpretive dancing. It was quite a surreal sight and proved to be even more enjoyable that Little Dragon who I mainly down there to see. I lasted till half way before I felt the surreal joy that Fake Kate had instilled being zapped.
I was to be leaving around midnight after Stevie, so set about the task of getting all my shit back to the car. Tears, sweat and pain, coupled with the sickeningly smug, satisfied look of people coming back down the exit hill, made it the toughest part of the weekend. What I thought would feel like an achievement when I reached the car, was quickly subdued knowing that I’d half way moved back to reality. I headed back to Wagamamas to cheers myself up.
I had time to kill before Bat for Lashes so I sat upon the hill by the massive I Love Bestival sign and looked down over everyone. You can see most of the main site from there, it’s quite inspiring.
Bat for Lashes proved to be a show of great subtlety. Where Florence bounded along the stage, building up the enthusiasm of the crowd, Natasha Khan (Bat) had the crowd flustered with her black dress and sultry, snake-like moves. She set about completely seducing the audience. Combined with her delicate voice, she put on a captivating performance ending with the brilliant ‘Daniel’. Another huge, huge song was ‘Laura’ from the new album. It was all about a performance of strength rather than show. No glitz or gimmick, merely a show of craft.
Sigur Ros is what made me finalise my decision to come to Bestival. I had no other preconceptions about how it would be, how it looked, what would be here. I had an idealised image in my mind of the sun going down behind me, standing silent with thousands of other people, admiring the utter beauty and craftsmanship of their music. It turned out better than this. Where as with other bigger stage acts, the mutterings of the crowd and the jovial sing-along can ruin something you feel passionate about, people stood and even wept. I lost it a bit at ‘Glossoli’ and the haunting ‘Valtari’. The only time to join in was with ‘Hoppipolla’ and ‘Meo Bloonasir’, where the crowd bloke into some lengthy oh, oh, ooooh, oh’s. The visuals that companied the band were striking themselves, even the side screen of the stage had their visuals distorted. Rarely was the band seen or shot individually. They understand that this about creation, performance and feeling, performed as one. It was simply one of the most captivating, heart-rending beautiful moments you could have wished for. It ending with the ‘Popplagio’, a twelve minute epic that build so high, then crushes you leaving you an exhausted mess. Rarely is anything this powerful or affecting.
Exhausted, I heading back to the Big Top to catch a bit of Spiritualized. Shame the came about thirty minutes late, made the first song last twelve minutes of pure self indulgent, uninspired instrumental. It was potentially ‘Hey Jane’, but with few words. I left, apparently they played a further three songs. Shame.
The glee upon Stevie Wonder‘s face summed up my entire time at this festival. He was a man completely in his element, a born entertainer with such a charisma that it seems that the entire festival has turned out for him. A whole repertoire of songs, known across every generation of person there, including covers from Michael Jackson and John Lennon go down a storm, its simple classic after classic. It is a master class in entertainment and talent that few people could and will, only ever dream of achieving.
I have felt so rejuvenated after such an exhausting, physically and mentally, few days. What makes me feel this way is because of the people that were there, and the community it created. In short everything, good, productive, challenging and educational in life, can be found at Bestival