Saturday overview

Putting yesterday’s irritating traffic travesties behind us, we can concentrate on what T in the Park does best; showcasing one of, if not the best line-ups out of any UK music festivals. Well, it’s certainly the best line-up if you like your hip, middle of the road, but popular with all ages indie.



Opening the Radio 1 / NME stage were Harrisons, an indie by numbers group, bearing similarities to the likes of The Rifles, The Cribs, Dogs, and countless similar bands. They hail from Sheffield, but are less unique than The Arctics, and far more similar to the formulaic Little Man Tate. Still, it sure beats Def Leppard. Front man Adam Taylor has the whole ridiculous-hat thing going on, and it makes him look rather uncomfortably like the lead singer from Fall Out Boy, probably a comparison he’d rather not have people make.



Although they are hardly groundbreaking in their music, they do have some funky bass lines, that turns what would otherwise be quite bland soulless records for devoted scensters into dancefloor fillers.

With age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes great live performances, as the group responsible for Ireland’s biggest selling single of all time were proving on the main stage. Consistently brilliant, The Saw Doctors have managed to assemble an army of classic tunes to deploy within their short aural assault on Kinross, from the anthemic ‘That’s what she said last night’, to the fantastic medley that is the ‘Hay Wrap’, seamlessly blending in covers of the classic Free song ‘All Right Now’ and Bodyrockers’ ‘I like the way you move’, the latter would perhaps rather be forgotten, but The Saw Doctors expertise at effortlessly gliding between songs is surely evidence of a magnificent group.



From the best of yesteryear to the best of this year, The Cinematics, having just completed a four month jaunt stateside, which included a run of phenomenal performances at the SXSW festival in Texas, ended their sabbatical with a storming set at T in The Park. They were billed in the lowly slot of second to grace the King Tut’s Wah Wah Tent, but by no means is that spot a reflection of the bands talent. The ties between The Cinematics and Joy Division are transparent, and they can be quite comfortably bundled into the same grouping as Editors, Interpol and The Cure.

Mesmerising in their beautiful blend of tender hooks and thought provoking lyrics, The Cinematics are the pinnacle of Scottish talent. Forget The View or The Fratellis, whose elevated presence in the media have created a rather unfair misconception of the type of bands Scotland is producing at the moment.


‘Maybe Someday’ is a superb fusion of art house rock and haunting vocals, like Bloc Party meets Editors. Scott Rinning’s telling lyrics perfectly suit the style of music, and material such as “breaking my back, with the weight of your heart” seems to be delivered with more passion and belief than a paid-on-commission Jehovah's Witness. The group end with ‘Asleep at the wheel’, but it’s over all too soon. We will be hearing much more from this lot.

Following on from The Cinematics is the dreamy, jangly vintage pop rock of fellow Scot’s Camera Obscura. They’ve obviously been listening to one too many Belle and Sebastian albums, and it’s hardly surprising that Richard Colburn (from B&S) used to be in the group. It’s very harmless stuff, pleasant on the ear, and great for lazing in the sun to, but this obvious benefit is lost in the King Tut’s tent and a search for some more attention grabbing music was in order.

Luckily, a group who have had excited whispers being ushered around them for some time now, were entertaining the crowd in the Pet Sounds Arena. Mr. Hudson and The Library, a name that just reeks of potential Mercury Music Award nominees, were perpetrating a hedonistic and uplifting fusion of jazz, indie, R&B, and well just about every indie hybrid genre going.



Having been a notable highlight at this year’s Glastonbury, where you could have caught them at any one of their staggering seven appearances (apparently some kind of record), Mr. Hudson and his team of Librarians make for an interesting spectacle. They’re a bit like The Guillemots in the way that every member of the band seems to have some unique input into the overall sound.

The limelight was stolen by Torville Jones (TJ) whose keyboard skills were surpassed only by the size of his afro. “Look at his fingers, they’re like spiders!” remarks the peroxide Hudson after a particularly impressive keyboard solo from TJ. Hudson himself is wearing a T-Shirt supporting fellow London jazz/indie crossover group Vincent Vincent and The Villains (surely another Mercury Award Nominee there).

‘Too late too late’ gets the biggest reception, with its Jamie T style vocals and ska undertones. They have far better tunes in their repertoire, which is always going to put them in good stead for the future.

Back in King Tut’s and everybody’s going nuts for Calvin Harris, and I can’t for the life of me think why. The tents rammed, there’s a sweaty topless guy mercilessly hitting on everything around him, the crowd are forcing that irritating “here we..here we, here we f*cking go!” chant to fit in with every song he plays, and the ridiculous looking Calvin is pogoing along to his own evil concoction of revived 80’s electroclash. For some people this is great, innovative music, but personally I’d rather play ping pong with my testicles. His biggest hit to date, the admittedly rather crap ‘Acceptable in the 80’s’ whips the excitable crowd into a mass frenzy, setting the whole tent alight. Not me, the only thing I want to set alight to is him.



Sadly I couldn’t quite force my way into the Future’s tent for Reverend and The Makers, and the huge queues outside didn’t look like they were going to be going down in a hurry. I was later told that there was plenty of room inside the tent, just that one helpful sod had decided to stand at the entrance and watch, and British people being British people had done the British thing and all started queuing up behind him. It did sound great though, and I was later informed that they were, as I expected, quite brilliant.

Over on the main stage Lostprophets had drawn in a surprisingly large crowd, surprising merely because T in the Park doesn’t really suit their style of music, and (My Chemical Romance aside) I thought they seemed a little odd on the bill. Still, you can hardly argue with their superb back catalogue of hits, ‘Last Train Home’, ‘Rooftops’, and ‘Burn Burn’ are all great tunes in their own right. Although lead singer Ian Watkin’s attempt to double up his mic as a makeshift drum machine didn’t quite work, nor did their rather meagre attempt at a circle-pit (or vortex as they called it). Come on guys, you’re not Slipknot, and you’re not at Download, you’re at T in the bloody park, up here random unprovoked violence for fun only happens at Old Firm games.



Over on the Radio 1/NME stage Brazilian beauties CSS (Casei de ser Sexy, which translates to ‘tired of being sexy’) were frolicking around on the stage, stripping (sort of), and trying to get everyone to do a dance that even Napoleon Dynamite would have found too embarrassing to copy.

It was interesting stuff, I’m not really sure if the music was all that good, but they sure do put on an entertaining show. Lovefoxxx in her rainbow coloured get-up and as one picky punter pointed out ‘having a body like a sausage’, rolled around the stage and flirted with the cameras. At one point she hopped down into the crowd and began to interview various people in her comically endearing broken English. On her way back up she’s helped onto the stage by a couple of eager security guards, probably making their day in the process.



It’s sexy music with a retro electro backbone that’s heavily doused in 80’s nostalgia. At times it can be annoying, and some songs seem a little too similar, but at the same time its great fun and everyone seems to be having a ball.

News arrived that Amy Winehouse had pulled out of her slot, the reason given as ‘exhaustion’. Which meant there was a bit of a reshuffle on the Radio 1/NME stage and all the set times became void.



The main stage carried on as normal, and was treated to one of the best live acts on the current music scene; Arcade Fire. The outfit are breathtaking to watch, mainly because of the extremely talented Régine Chassagne, who trades instruments as if she's working in the worlds most popular pawn shop, from accordion, to drums, to keyboard, to the hurdy gurdy. The other half of the founding partnership, husband Win Butler, provides the lead vocals to the complicated ensemble that make up Arcade Fire.

The group’s large personnel is necessary for the immense sound they create, and the complex arrangements that they deliver. It’s great to see an indie band ditch the classic guitar/drum set-up and explore the depths of their music using a variety of different instruments.



I once wrote in a review a few years ago that performances like Arcade Fires are “the reason I go to festivals”, and watching them again I can see exactly why I wrote that. The T crowd were taken through an entirely different set list to Glastonbury. The band opted for the more immediate opening of ‘Rebellion (lies)’ and did a great job of sustaining the atmosphere right the way through to the end of their set.

I had time just to nip across to the T Break stage to catch Amy MacDonald. Her publicist had obviously been busy throughout the weekend and you couldn’t really move for Amy fliers, posters and adverts across the site. Her acoustic indie folk lies somewhere between the likes of KT Tunstall (who she’s often compared to) and more traditional celtic bands. New single ‘Mr Rock N Roll’ has a chorus that sounds a little too much like Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’, but ‘Posion Prince’ is a great tune that shows just where her influences really come from.

Like most of the gigs on the T Break stage, it all feels a bit like a private party, and those watching seem like an assembly of school friends, neighbours and colleagues. It does make for a great little collective atmosphere, but if you’re not from Glasgow or Scotland you can’t help feeling a little left out. Amy’s already receiving a great deal of radio play and is getting quite a collection of famous fans, allegedly Brandon Flowers is among them. I wonder if that’s got anything to do with her cover of ‘Mr. Brightside’?

Back over to the main stage and Razorsh...sorry, Razorlight, were drawing in the biggest crowd of the day. Borrell didn’t seem nearly as irritating this time round, perhaps that was because his misses was apparently on site (that’s Kirsten Dunst for those of you that are lucky enough not to read the Daily Record). Whatever the case for it, a slightly subdued Razorlight were banging out an unbelievable string of hits, so many that it’s clear they really do deserve a high headline slot, if not on merit at least for perseverance. Predictably, the crowd loved it, and admittedly they’re an entertaining live act but I decided to go and see exactly what one of emo’s biggest trend setters My Chemical Romance were up to.



Amy Winehouse’s departure from the bill meant that they had ended up coming on early and as a result, finished early too. I arrived just for the end of their set, and sadly just caught a couple of seconds of dodgy feedback before they left the stage. What did strike me as odd was the size of the crowd watching them. I have never seen such a small crowd for an act so high up on the Radio 1/NME stage. I can only guess that it was because of the confusion with set times, but I did feel for My Chemical Romance, who were surely expecting a bigger crowd.

The final act I managed to catch on Saturday was another 80’s electronica specialist (honestly, what’s this fascination with the 80s?), New Young Pony Club. Frighteningly similar to CSS, to the point where it’s difficult to tell their songs apart sometimes, NYPC are arriving to surf the crest of this so called new wave phenomenon.

It’s unashamedly sexy music, between the five piece they have the world’s most attractive keyboard player, the sassiest frontwoman alive, and the coolest moustache since Frankie left The Darkness. ‘Get Lucky’ is a pop masterpiece, with enough acute disco retrospective to bring the shell suits, glowsticks, and stupid haircuts back to life in one giddy, nostalgic sitting.

The tent grooved in unison to Tahita Bulmer’s amorous lead, sliding about the stage in a way not unlike Lovefoxxx – this must be the effect reinvented 80’s disco has on girls these days.



A good solid first day of acts at T in The Park, but I was eagerly anticipating the second day of bands, and everyone I spoke to seemed to think that if Saturday had a great line-up, then Sunday was going to leave us breathless.

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