Fused Magazine - V2009 Weston Park

All the drama seemed to be happening down in Chelmsford, what with Amy Winehouse cameo-ing with the Specials and a last-minute cancellation from headliners Oasis. There weren’t as many surprises at Stafford’s Weston Park site, the days running as smoothly as you would expect from such a slick, pop-polished juggernaut. I’d set my hopes low this year, my motive being to have a fun weekend with friends rather than catching hot musical talents such as Alesha Dixon, the Saturdays and N-Dubz (oh my!). Guess what? It’s probably the best V I’ve been to.

Day One: Saturday 22 August

Following a chilled-out Friday spent in the indie disco and basking in the sun (yes, you heard that right: it was sunny at V), the time for live music – and the first hangover – soon rolled around. The Saturday sunshine saw revellers eager to start using up those precious bar tokens, and early anthems from Ocean Colour Scene were a fitting soundtrack. Next up was Mark Ronson protégé Daniel Merriweather, who dropped a cred-baiting cover of the White Stripes ‘You Don’t Know What Love Is’ partway through a set of vocally impressive retro-soul hits.

The chart-friendly vibe continued in the form of Natalie Imbruglia, who took me back to being 12 years old all over again. Although she may have missed a trick by performing ‘Torn’ three songs in, promptly inspiring a mass exodus, I stuck around for the Alanis-esque ‘Big Mistake’ and ‘Wishing I Was There’, songs I thought were the epitome of rock-chick cool back in ’98. New material was more reminiscent of electro-edged Ladyhawke, who ripped her way through a hit-packed set while looking as flippantly cool as ever.

I’d like to say that it was feminine wiles that charmed me over to the 4Music stage for pop tart Katy Perry, but it was actually a begrudging promise to a friend. Despite an ill-advised cover of Queen student fave ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, it’s not everyday you get to see a gal wearing strawberries on her bosoms – plus, as tedious as it may sound on radio, karaoke pop like ‘Waking Up In Vegas’ and (of course) ‘I Kissed a Girl’ does the trick under a blazing sun with two ciders in hand. My rep took a further hit after I somehow turned into a 14 year-old girl and muscled to the front bar for Paolo Nutini (!), who nevertheless tore it up and erased all memory of sappy ballads with Sax-inspired tracks from his new album.

I veered away from the Smash Hits! route for a short but sweet set from a dapper-looking Mystery Jets, whose chipper ‘Two Doors Down’ proved to be a highlight of the festival. It was back to pop with a capital P soon after, as a jammed tent became disgruntled at the late entrance of Lady Gaga. Although her tardiness forced her to pull ‘Poker Face’ from the setlist (false move much?), she was soon entertaining fans and hecklers alike with her raunchy, racy and ridiculous spectacle – I can only imagine the scale of her stage show in five years’ time. By the time MGMT came around, I was sucker-punched and only managed to last three songs before heading back to the campsite, Kids be damned (and Oasis be damned even more).

Day Two: Sunday 23 August

Although I woke up to angry-looking clouds, creating an ambience in keeping with my pounding head, the skies soon cleared and the sunglasses came out. Opting out of the aural insult of McFly’s opening slot, day two officially landed when sprawled atop the grass to the sound of Noisettes. I miss their brasher punk of old but ‘Don’t Upset the Rhythm’ couldn’t have suited the weather better, and Shinga’s sparkle made up for the ready meal rock of a crash-landing Jet.

A few more bevvies under Mr Blue Sky prepared us for VV Brown, who carried off her doo-wop/pop-rock mash with some panache in the Virgin Media Union. The obligatory cover is Kings of Leon’s ‘Use Somebody’ but a reggae reworking of ‘Crying Blood’ was the set’s crowning moment. Ducking out before the finale saw us caught in the rush to Dizzee Rascal, who wass obviously saving all his best songs for last and inspired my friends to move along.

It wasn’t too regrettable a decision though, as Lily Allen can always be relied upon to bring the fun. ‘LDN’s chorus line ‘Sun is in the sky, oh why oh why would I wanna be anywhere else?’ sums it up pretty succinctly, as she worked the main stage wearing a revealing black top and Bat For Lashes bob-wig. She enquired about the Ashes, got told off for lighting up, and dissed Chelmsford, proving as titillating when not singing as when delivering much-loved singles like ‘Smile’ and ‘The Fear’.

As dusk approached, a change of pace was in order and I traipsed alone – accompanied by wafts of The Specials’ set – to the darkened tent where Howling Bells rang. Frontwoman Juanita Stein was as charismatic as ever, and I can forgive them for being so ridiculously good-looking simply because their moody rock is, for want of a better term, The Shit. I was on such a buzz afterwards that I briefly twisted my melon, man, when meeting up with friends over at Happy Mondays’ set.

Following a couple of cocktails from the Bacardi B-Live Tent, the weekend’s happy-go-lucky vibe was topped off with a poptastic performance from Alphabeat. Their choruses are so primary-coloured as to make your ears hurt but the energy in the tent was infectious and their sing-a-longs got lips and feet moving. My dancing shoes (yup, no wellies this year!) were in want of another chance to bust a groove after the bout of Swedish pop, and so I bypassed the headlining slot from The Killers in favour of pulsating beats from Kissy Sell Out spilling out of the Bowtime Bar. It was the perfect nightcap, and rounded off one of the best weekends I’ve spent in Weston Park in some time.