Bestival: Robin Hill Country Park, Newport, Isle of Wight 09-11 Sep 2005

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THE ISLAND
There is something to be said for getting a ferry to a festival. Compared to the traffic jams on country lanes of most festivals, it’s a pleasant hour in the sunshine, drinking a beer, waving at other boats as you sail smoothly towards the Isle of Wight for a weekend of music and tent-life.

And fancy dress. This is only the second Bestival to have taken place but already they’re hoping to break a world record. For the world’s largest fancy dress party. The signs are looking good already as the 20-minute slog to the campsite passes many people already adhering to the Cowboys and Indians dress code, a day ahead of schedule. And of course, there are plenty of shops selling fancy dress outfits. Right by my tent there’s a cowboy in full leathers and hat attempting to crack a whip. He claims to be able to snatch a beer can from a rock and catch it in his hand, but he’s hampered by a lack of room amongst the tents and doesn’t get much more a few snaps.

This is basically what Bestival is like. Lots of people dressed up and being strangely good-natured, while listening to lots of good music. I spent the Saturday of the record-breaking fancy dress parade in Indian headdress, and being in a minority amongst our pale-skinned oppressors, that meant lots of Indian handshakes and bonding. There was a major carnival feel to the whole weekend with performers, part-time jugglers and the usual twirlers and fairy wings alongside stilt-walkers and the elaborate costumes of those who were part of the parading floats. Of course this happens at other festivals and can feel like by-the-hour atmosphere, but at Bestival the fancy dress element encouraged everyone, not just the usual festival folk, to get involved.

BEWITCHED
Friday was quite a frenetic day. The campsite wasn’t completely open until Friday morning so unlike similar festivals you couldn’t arrive Thursday night and get up ready for the events the following morning. But the efforts of the majority that morning and afternoon meant they were up for a party and Dub Pistols provided an early evening lift on the main stage. Joined by Terry Hall from The Specials for the darkly jaunty ‘Problem Is’, their brassy ska and dub soaked beats were a hit with the crowd. Hall had earlier played in the Bollywood Bar, a long tent that effortlessly recreated the atmosphere of a crowded nightclub all weekend. Krafty Kuts delivered a brilliant afternoon session of breakbeats there, followed by Giles Peterson and his Latin-infused house and jazz.

Those who really liked to explore every nook and cranny at festivals might still have missed the Hidden Disco despite it being listed in the programme. That you had to go through the casino was enough to distract you (though there never seemed to be anyone actually playing blackjack or roulette at the green baize tables) from the small doorway in the corner that led down a corridor to a tiny tent where Paul Arnold was playing house to a small but enthusiastic crowd. The following evening more people were to find their way there for a good DJ set from Bez. The Hidden Disco wasn’t the smallest club at Bestival though. That honour went to the inspired Miniscule of Sound – a tiny booth with velvet walls that fits about 10 people, shoulder-to-shoulder, face-to-face. Very amusing, if not for the claustrophobic.

Back at the main stage Dreadzone were getting the crowd bouncing as the sun went down with their classic folk rave anthems ‘Little Britain’ and ‘Captain Dread’ and Mylo brought his epic tour of UK summer festivals to a close with his finely-honed live set. In between there is some excellent mash-ups and cunning cuts from DJ Different Strokes and moments of lurid pink comedy and funky dancing from hosts The Cuban Brothers.

I’m well aware that amongst the Eyeballkid scribes I am probably alone, but The Magic Numbers give me itchy feet. I agree their songs are nice and manage to remain on the right side of twee. And I can see their live performances are a wonder of harmony and emotion, but I had to split after a couple of tracks. Fortunately Clor were in the Big Top unleashing the fearsome electro rhythms of their excellent debut album. The Big Top tent is oddly decorated with washing lines but the sound is perfect and it’s a storming set from the band. I get back to the main stage just in time to hear The Magic Numbers say “you’ve been a lovely audience. Goodnight.”

FULLY LOADED
The following day the sky has clouded over and there’s an early afternoon lull until the fancy dress parade. Almost everyone has made the effort and there’s plenty of variety and imagination around for it to be fun, and like any good parade you just tag on at the back to say you were in it. Word went round that the record was broken. But it would wouldn’t it. While everyone was milling around in post-record repose, St Etienne quietly took to the stage and the first lush notes that emanated as Sarah Cracknell started their classic ‘Like a Motorway’ saw the crowd quickly make their way to the front. This reaction seemed to please Cracknell, who didn’t even seem to mind that no one was really bothered with their new songs. How can we when the old ones are this good?

Saturday night really kicked off early with a raucous set in the Big Top from Groove Armada’s Tom Findlay, aided by MC Madd, one of the few MCs I’ve ever liked. Playing funky hip-hop, thumping breaks and of course, ‘Superstylin’, Findlay was definitely one of the DJ highlights of the festival. He was followed by X-Press 2, who had played a Balearic house set in the Bollywood Bar the previous night. Tonight was more straightforward six-deck action from the trio and equally good. Back at the main stage Royksopp were giving life to tracks from their latest album ‘The Understanding’, followed by 2 Many DJs, proving they are possibly the ultimate festival act with their frantic mixes of well-known tunes. Later on though, fellow Belgian DJ duo, The Glimmers showed them how to do it with subtly in the Bollywood Bar.

CRASH
Sunday at Bestival began like any other Sunday, well except for the fact that I don’t usually poke my head out of a tent to find a scene reminiscent of the aftermath of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre less than a foot away. Half-drunk bottles of whiskey, abandoned cowboy hats and discarded gingham shirts I could understand, given the previous night’s fancily-dressed festivities. However, the prostrate form of a random festival-goer who had obviously failed to make it back to his own temporary abode was initially a cause for some concern (and hilarity).

Having checked that he was still alive, it was time to hit the festival site and buy some life-giving organic coffee and toast - the food at this festival is seriously good – before collapsing to do some intensive chilling with the blissed-out crowd by the main stage. Among those there to entertain us were Lee Scatch Perry, who is as mad and as brilliant as ever, and Fat Freddy’s Drop, who won a lot of fans with their amazing, and hugely accessible, brand of dub.

But the highlight of the last day had to be Bestival organiser Rob da Bank and The (multi-talented) Cuban Brothers’ late night set in the Bollywood Bar. Bugz in the Attic warmed the crowd up a treat with a dirty, bass-heavy performance, perfect for getting down to with a cocktail in your hand, before handing over to Rob and co to finish the job. And finish it they did, ending on the superb ‘A Bit Patchy’, which samples the classic hip-hop tune Apache, and provided the perfect end to a small, but perfectly formed festival weekend.

words: Colm Larkin & Jessica Bown
photos: Zoe Haseman

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