You can sum up everything that's wrong about V2001 (Saturday) with two simple words: Nelly Furtado. She's beautiful, that's for sure. You almost feel like her stomach should get a mention on the adverts. Nelly Furtado featuring Her Perfect Flat Stomach. But she's so bland she makes Gloria Estafan seem like Missy Elliot. Nelly knows it too. That's why she covers Missy's 'Get Yr Freak On'. To show she has some bite. To show she has some soul..
Like poor Nelly (if you don't know where your soul is, perhaps it's because you don't have one, ever thought of that?) Furtado, V2001 is desperate to show it's not all about commerce and marketing. It wants to be a proper festival. Like Glastonbury. So there are stilt walkers and people dressed as robots and a caravan covered with freaky pots and pans. But look closer and you'll see a mobile phone logo or somesuch hidden away in the corner. It's all a con. Even the bloke selling cans of lager out of his rucksack isn't what he seems. "Two for a fiver mate? Sorry, I can't. I'm working for someone else, see."
Luckily Embrace have genuine soul by the, erm…do you carry soul in? Bucketload? Truckload? It's a question to ponder while savouring the slow burning potency of 'Come Back To What You Know' (and singing along, of course). Embrace know that soul isn't about holding a perfect note for a minute in the middle of a song. That's acrobatics not art. Soul is about having the guts to be humble. "We've never really had a big hit," says Danny, but 'All You Good Good People' and 'The Good Will Out' are huge.
You'll have been told that Zero 7 are the British Air. Ignore this. It's a lazy categorisation that's way off the mark. They're the Folk Massive Attack. Isn't it obvious? With a slow sweep of strings and drifting air of pleasantness, they soothe and delight, but leave you hungry for some kick ass guitar action. And coming right up, it's Christopher Columbus On Acid. Or Coldplay to you and me. Chris Martin is the Feelgood King Of The Festival, which comes in handy as the heavens open just after he bounces onstage. He exhorts us to sing along, he apologises about a million times for the rain, he's sweet and humble (again - you listening Nelly?) and wins everyone over. The new songs are good too. 'In My Place' (key lyric: "I was scared, tired and underprepared" - the perils of sudden fame, anyone?) and 'God Put A Smile On Your Face' sound magnificent.
If you had to dance out of your head in the rain at a festival, there's no better soundtrack than The Charlatans. Drunk loons spring into action everywhere, shuffling, stamping, shouting at clouds, barking at their own shadows. Tim Burgess, meanwhile, is wearing shades. Even though it's pissing it down. How very LA. And very Charlies. Survival no matter what. Tim's new falsetto is very LA as well and it takes some getting used to. Your head: their rubic's cube. But close your eyes and go with it and 'Love Is The Key' and 'Judas' are spectacular.
It's impossible to get into the tent for The Avalanches and thus doubly impossible to get in for Kylie, so Muse close the day for many. They don't possess a drop of soul between them, but that's the point. Setting the controls of his prog bastard spaceship for the heart of histrionic, Matt Bellamy (looking every inch the Young Liberace with his new red hair) is entertainment incarnate. 'New Born' splutters and squeals and 'Sunburn' growls and glides and V2001 (Saturday) ends not with a choreographed curtsy but a howl of petulance.
