Guilfest - Stoke Park, Guildford, Surrey - 4-6/7/03
1/5
By: Toby L
Take Glastonbury's all-round euphoric vibes, add a touch of Party in The Park's family-friendly atmosphere and include as diverse a bill as possible, and you've got the basis for Guilfest 2003. This year's event, held in the leafy environs of Guilford's Stoke Park, enjoyed debatably the finest (certainly the most eclectic, at least) line-up in its 13 year history.
It may only be a Friday afternoon in Surrey, but in The Darkness' minds this is a night in Wembley Stadium during the mid-80's. Following the ecstatic response to their early morning Glastonbury performance last weekend, Suffolk's finest purveyors of un-ironic heavy metal don't disappoint. Clad in ultra-tight black leather trousers, shoulder-length hair flailing wildly, frontman Justin Hawkins revels in the limelight. Via 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love', 'Growing On Me' and the fantastically titled 'Get Your Hands Off My Woman', The Darkness already have a collection of brilliantly OTT instant air-guitar classics; and with Hawkins changing into an outrageous, black and white striped, Lycra cat-suit mid-set, it's clear the foursome and their ever-extrovert singer are going to be bountifully massive.
The Wildhearts, similarly, bring the rock - though a far less endearing one, at times; a surging, beastly ravaging of crunching guitars, vocalist Ginger's resilient grunt and a multitude of catchy-punk opuses, this is workmanlike, brawling-bar terror with bells on (highlight: recent 45, 'Stormy In The North, Karma In The South').
Over on the second ('Uncut') stage, Glasgow's Cosmic Rough Riders are displaying a far less folksy, pastoral sound than was evident on 2001's highly enjoyable debut LP proper, 'Enjoy The Melodic Sunshine'. With Stephen Fleming having taken over lead vocal responsibilities from Dan Wylie, the Cosmics' revamped versions of 'The Gun is Loaded' and 'Glastonbury Revisited' seem far leaner and stripped down than before. New additions to the repertoire such as 'Sunrise' and latest single, the Teenage Fanclub-esque 'Because You', shine just as brightly as the old songs. It's genuinely baffling why CRR and their quintessential summer pop are still so underrated.
They may have been at odds with the hippy ideal, but it still feels as if the legendary Love have bottled the very essence of the 60s and are sharing it with us tonight, over in the Radio 2 main arena. Arthur Lee's fantastic, rich velvety vocals sound just as good here as they do on the LA group's classic 1967 album 'Forever Changes', specifically 'Bummer in the Summer' and 'You Set The Scene' as timely and sublime as back then, you'd imagine. Fittingly, Lee purrs following a salaciously warming performance, 'Do me a favour... love one another.'
Somewhat more hellishly, there's no shortage of Alice Cooper fans in the crowd this evening, and despite taking the stage a good half an hour late (thus lessening his show-time owing to strict curfews), the grand old man of Goth-rock is very good value. A real pantomime performer, 'No More Mr Nice Guy' and 'Eighteen' are afforded rapturous ovations early on, whilst all manner of bizarre stage props find their way amidst the performance-space; Alice finds ways of incorporating a crutch, a blow-up sex doll and even a live snake. He ends, of course, with a boisterous 'School's Out', but not before his drummer treats us to a solo so lengthy that even Spinal Tap would balk.
Saturday lunchtime, following a wonderful, alt.country series of dashings from The Vessels, and founder La's member and - scarily - ex-Cast main-man John Power is in sight. A brief set showcases material from new debut solo album 'Happening For Love'; immediate guitar classicism imbued with the same hippy-nonsense lyrics and rustic song-titles ('Small Farm', 'Songbird') he was famed for during the past decade.
Technical problems may plague The Undertones' set, and the band is also without original singer Feargal Sharkey these days. But from storming opener 'Jimmy Jimmy', by means of a plethora of ridiculously catchy late-70s odes to teen angst, it's still a real pleasure to experience the Granddaddies of pop-punk in the live arena. 'My Perfect Cousin', 'You've Got My Number' and inevitably, 'Teenage Kicks' all still sound impeccable.
Matt Hales' Aqualung are resolutely less interested in the notion of 'rocking out'. He may be possessive of a prime-time billing to thousands on a Saturday night, yet ex-indie-rockster Hales isn't interested in solos nor many overtures for that matter: this is deep, brooding, introspective surliness from the get-go, interspersed with occasional peaks of scattering beauty (the tragic 'Falling Out Of Love', or 'If I Fall'), otherwise culminating to his sole, mega-hit of the winter, 'Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You)'. The new songs, naturally, follow the lush, minimalist orchestrations of the prior batch, suggestive of a possibly equally valid successor to the multi-selling debut. Though a bit of cheering up wouldn't go amiss.
Skin's range is a tad more balanced - from gently raging ferocity ('Charlie Big Potato', of her former Skunk Anansie's cannon), a beauteous 'Hedonism', through to her newer solo-exploits' highlight - recent single, 'Trashed'. Enigmatic and still a striking performer, she races the stage-platform, gallivants in the front rows of a stirring mosh, and howls that wondrous echo of a voice: a ringing that still resonates a reverberation of frightful, urgent significance.
Hailing from nearby Chiddingfold, The Stranglers were never in any danger of facing an apathetic audience. Uniformly clad in black, an hour of organ-drenched punk moodiness is served up, inclusive of all the old classics: 'Peaches', 'Golden Brown' and a rousing finale of 'No More Heroes.' 
Yet, honestly, is there anyone who wouldn't want dance to Madness? The Nutty Boys are on truly superb form tonight. Within the first half hour there's great hits galore laid on - the eternal opener 'One Step Beyond', 'My Girl', 'Lovestruck', 'House of Fun' and 'Driving In My Car'. The white-suited, ever-affable Suggs is the consummate frontman, chatty, personable and energetic throughout. And with what seems the entire site skanking inanely to a whole run of favourites - 'Wings Of A Dove', 'Baggy Trousers', 'It Must Be Love', and a blistering 'Night Boat to Cairo', to bring things to a close - Madness claim Guilfest for their own.
Just like yesterday, there's an ex-Britpop player to kick things off on the main stage. This time it's, gulp, Crispian Mills, now leading The Jeevas. Looking most dapper indeed, Crispian's new material ('Virginia', 'Once Upon a time in America') derives from a far more straightforward 60s rock n' roll source than the Eastern mystical freak-outs of the Kula Shaker days, though old Kula staples 'Grateful When You're Dead' and 'Hush' are still aired with efficient aplomb.
It was tempting to dismiss The Androids as just another Wheatus - both groups having had one massive, radio-hogging, comedy indie-pop debut single each. But whilst the accessible, chirpy quartet may have found fame with the silly 'Do It With Madonna', their surprisingly meaty, melodic, Aussie-Ash guitar rock suggests they're made of somewhat sterner stuff (a QOTSA for the minors, if you will).
Earnest, heart-felt singer/songwriter types may be two-a-penny at the moment, but Tom McRae's delicate vocals and lush, grandiose on-stage arrangements keep things interesting. McRae's constant self-deprecation does grind a little, though. 'My singles have a tendency to go into the charts with a bullet, at number 48 or 63,' he moans, and he claims that the next act, Daniel 'Bedders' Beddingfield, has promised to cover some of his material in order to make McCrae a bit of cash at last.
So whilst the festival purists may sneer, the open-minded and fun-loving amongst us will continue to embrace this well-natured, impossibly well-humoured event. In rare British fashion, the weather was fine throughout, everyone - bemusingly - from toddlers to grandparents seemingly embracing the prospects of a 'top time'. And, amidst it all, a concentrated smattering of decent live acts ensued an entirely vivid display of frivolous frolics. The toilets, however - in time-honoured, festival tradition - were nose-wrenchingly revolting. Still, can't have everything, can you?
Reviews: Matt Tomiak / Photo-Credit: James Faherty
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