Venue: Finsbury Park, London
OK. It's a hot, sunny, Saturday morning. You've just spent four hours on 2 different trains, and the underground to get to Finsbury Park, and what's your first regret? Didn't bring the sun tan cream. The second? Left the sunglasses behind as well. The third? Perhaps the most important of all; coming by train as opposed to car.
These regrets will be explained later but initially a return to the point of the whole festival; the music. Opening act on the Main stage were Picture House, and it's official; the spirit of Crowded House is alive and well in Picture House; radio-friendly rock, without the intense imagery of Neil Finn's lyrics, but the sound itself was more than enough to generate a welcome applause considering the audience were not completely warmed up. Surprisingly, the band have been around for 5-6 years, and the UK has not yet been made aware of this outfit.
Next up, the Cei mor dancers, with Riverdance-esque moves to the Corrs version of "Dreams" (OK), Rednex' "Cotton Eye Joe" (Cheesy), and Shamrock's "Tell Me Ma" (Ugh! help me, please help me!). Most of the crowd were into it, I personally was glad it only took 15 minutes.
Fortunately, following the dancers were Celtus. One word sums this band up. Wow. Incorporating traditional Irish sounds with electronica and alternative rock, making them sound like a hybrid of the Corrs, Depeche Mode and Faith No More.
3 very talented musicians who unsurprisingly have sold well and received praise and awards galore in their native Ireland, but alas have yet to get the big break over the water. Shame, considering the lack of sincerity of most of the top ten.
The following three hours were spent resting and briefly paying attention to Bert Jansch (who was impressive, but I missed most of the set) Bap Kennedy (who sounded awful, and seemed to have heavy technical problems), Nitin Sawnhey (more like incoherent art than music), Cathal Coughlan (dreary folk music, it gave me brief spells of interest, but was ultimately nothing sensational)
We then come to the saviours of the afternoon. Kirsty MacColl sambaed and mamboed in the sunshine, with a crisp and lively horn section, which played two new singles from her new album, "Tropical Brainstorm", as well as all her classics; "Days", " A New England", and "There's a guy who works down the chip shop, swears he's Elvis". The majority of the audience were dancing, lifted by a set that was perfectly timed for the summer.
Following were Prefab Sprout who were a personal highlight of the day; the rust of ten years away from touring had disappeared since I last saw them in March, and the majority of the audience were appreciative. There appeared to be three schools of thought with regard to watching the Sprouts:
1. Lower your head, pretend you wish it was Stereophonics or Oasis, and slow-handclap after every song.
2. Dance like Crazy to songs like "Cars and Girls", "When Love breaks down", and "Life of Surprises" among others.
3. Stand, without tapping your feet, and look and listen in awe of the band and singer-songwriter Paddy McAloon for such disturbingly emotional and powerful lyrics.
The audience responded in kind by singing a belated "Happy 43rd Birthday" to Paddy. I must admit I did not myself, though I was standing next to a bald man with tattoos and pierced ears who did not seem to have the interest of a Sprout fan, and two young loads who were more 'mad-for-it' than anything else.
Once again, after the performance finished; I left, eagerly hoping their next performance would not be in another 10 years.
Due to time constraints (the train), I was unable to See Suzanne Vega, the Undertones, the Corrs or Billy Bragg, but by this time I was beginning to look like a Comanche from all the exposure to the sun.
Ultimately no regrets at getting ticket to an overall enjoyable festival.
Craig Aston
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