Park full of memories

Jul 17 2007 Andrew Welsh

ANOTHER year, another set of memories.

There’s no way anyone can argue about the quality of line-up at this year’s T in the Park, or that there were some unforgettable performances from the vast array of talent on show.

My own T started belatedly along with thousands of others, as traffic delays meant I missed out on the Friday night activities.

So it was a Saturday lunchtime set from CHARLOTTE HATHERLEY that got the ball rolling at – given the early kick-off time – an unsurprisingly thinly-populated Pet Sounds Arena.

On this evidence, Ms Hatherley appears to have taken a distinctly riot girl-type route since parting company with Ash, and her live sound has more in common with the likes of Babes In Toyland and Sleater-Kinney than the hook-laden riffs of her erstwhile Irish bandmates.

I’ve given my verdict elsewhere on the Skids’ main stage showing, a superlative effort that was equalled by that of ALBERT HAMMOND JNR back at Pet Sounds.

Taking on the frontman role, the distinctive Strokes guitarist cut through tracks from his solo album with an assurance that was at times awe-inspiring.

With two other super-charged axemen helping create a powerful but harmonic wall of sound, this was one of the most rewarding sets of the entire festival.

Following on, SINEAD O’CONNOR found her efforts hamstrung early on by technical difficulties.

Overcoming these, however, the Irish legend proved she still has one of the most stunning voices in pop as she treated her followers to some of her best-known works, including The Emperor’s New Clothes, Thank You for Hearing Me, I am Stretched and Fire on Babylon.

Ironically, O’Connor’s reggae-infused performance was topped off with a rendition of Nothing Compares 2 U which prompted a mass-singalong that led to her own vocals being completely drowned out.

Whether ARCADE FIRE will go on to enjoy such lasting devotion is yet to be decided.

Without question, the multi-instrumental Canadian outfit’s studio work stands out from the pack, but their main stage set simply lacked the spark that the great acts tend to provide when given opportunities to seize the moment live.

At least MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE managed to put on a show kept the audience down at the NME/R1 stage on its toes (see My View).

The day concluded with a clutch of ‘average’ outfits hogging the top billing elsewhere, but it was ex-Beach Boy BRIAN WILSON who really grabbed the attention.

A celebratory mood prevailed at PSA as the laconic legend treated onlookers to outings of all his great classics, including Surfin’ USA, I Get Around, God Only Knows, Good Vibrations and the rest.

The crowd reaction to Wilson and his fabulous band was phenomenal, proving that youth is no substitute for genius.

Sunday started slowly, before THE TWANG got into their groovy stride at NME/R1.

Coming across like Flowered Up jamming with The Streets, the northern soul boys showed why they’re one of the UK’s most highly-rated new bands with an absolute belter of a performance.

They certainly made for a hard act for GOSSIP to follow, but full marks to Beth Ditto et al for showing no little effort or talent - not to mention flesh.

Needing to calm things down a bit, BADLY DRAWN BOY made for the perfect answer.

Damon Gough is one of pop’s more unassuming characters, but his songwriting abilities shone through to maximum effect at PSA.

Less restrained were MAXIMO PARK back at NME/RI.

Paul Smith and co have got two albums’ worth of frenzied kitchen-sink dramas to call upon and they pulled out all the stops.

The Geordie boys demonstrated why British is frequently best as they exploded into the afternoon sunshine with the modern anthems Graffiti and Our Velocity, as well as their bizarre cover of The Proclaimers’ 500 Miles.

Like an electro Smiths for the late-Noughties, it was fitting that Maximo were only too delighted to put the boot into Kings Of Leon who were playing opposite them.

Stealing myself for the big finish, it was a case of chilling-out in Pet Sounds to the futuristic yet strangely retro Gallic sounds of AIR, whose set built steadily towards the inevitable high points of Kelly and Sexy Boy.

Foregoing another trek to NME/R1 at the end of the evening to see the mighty Kasabian - and the dubious pleasures en route - I opted for a visit to the King Tut’s Tent to catch QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE.

This testosterone-fueled crew can rock with the best of them and impressed with the sheer force of their bombast, as well as their classy Gothic lighting rig.

Stuck on the periphery of KT’s, however, it was hard to pick up the nuances of the Queens’ turn thanks to a less than perfect sound set-up, and I was left none the wiser as to whether Josh Homme and his cohorts are really all they’re cracked up to be.