Richard Ashcroft has some persuading to do tonight. Most of V can be found at the MTV stage watching Moby (as Ashcroft says, "maybe I should do a few f***in' car adverts") and those here, for the most part, seem to consider his solo stuff a poor relation to the songs of The Verve. And - oddly for someone so often painted as confidence personified - he seems to need to hear that some people out there, however few there might be, want to hear his new music.
The set begins without fanfare - he wanders onstage, acoustic guitar round his neck, says 'Brave New World' and plays a tender version of this sombre track. It soon becomes clear that he's establishing ground rules, showing us in live performance the links that tie 'Alone With Everybody' to 'Urban Hymns', while reclaiming the likes of 'Sonnet' and 'The Drugs Don't Work' as his own. 'Space And Time' is probably the most affected by this, transformed as it is from the psychedelic ballad of yore into a vast gospel affair that takes your breath away.
'I Get My Beat's subtle charms follow (as the man sings, "it's a beautiful thing"), then a heart-stopping 'Sonnet' and imminent new single 'C'mon People (We're Making It Now)'. "This one's for Liam Gallagher, the greatest rock and roll star this country's ever produced", he says by way of introduction. Bearing in mind the well-publicised spat between the brothers Gallagher, and the presence of Noel backstage, could Richard be taking sides?
A transcendent 'Lucky Man' comes next, deftly reworked to bring its finest moments to the fore, followed by new album highlight 'On A Beach', which concludes with a gorgeous instrumental coda. Then 'You On My Mind In My Sleep', as intimate as anything sung to tens of thousands of people could be.
The sadly overlooked groove of 'Money To Burn' is next in all its gospel-drenched glory, and then we get 'New York', a mess of squealing sirens and subterranean bass lines. It's the one moment where Simon Jones and Nick McCabe are fleetingly missed; not even trumpets, flutes, pedal steels and keyboards can muster the sort of abstract sounds McCabe could draw from his guitar...
He scarpers briefly, before returning with what will be the outright sucker punch. 'History', the most heart-rending tune The Verve ever made, comes first, as acoustic as the day it was born. 'A Song For The Lovers' also gets the acoustic treatment, augmented by a solo trumpet; for those who considered the single a confusion of overproduction, this version captures its heart.
What else could bring the night to an end? 'Bitter Sweet Symphony', again acoustic, in a raw performance that reveals it to be every bit the modern day blues song Ashcroft always claimed it was. And then, just as it appears to conclude, the string sample bursts into life as a rapturous coda. Bloody hell. Many have bemoaned the this festival's lack of soul, with its sponsored everything and video ads between bands. As we leave tonight, though, we realise: they were saving it all till last.
All told, he wasn't half bad. Consider us persuaded...
