As the sponsors remind us, Move is not a festival, it's an Urban Music Event. A five-minute circuit of the additional entertainment - queuing for either bar tokens or overpriced fast food in a car park - confirms that.
"Whatever this Move thing is, I'm down with it," Wayne 'Flaming Lips' Coyne proclaims and he's got a point. The name is a meaningless 21st century brand building exercise yet the event is very slowly establishing itself as a fixture in the summer season. Given its merits, there's still a long way to go. However, Glastonbury clearly wasn't built in a year.
The major problem with Move 2003 is it's essentially three one-day shows headlined by major acts - Manic Street Preachers, The Charlatans and REM. Before them comes a procession of largely lethargic supports acts whose minds appear to already be at the next festival. And it's not as if any of the big three are currently at the peak of their powers.
Having said that, the largely 'V' festival type crowd and easy-going day-trippers, who'd never think of venturing to the Somerset three-dayer, are grateful of a day's drinking in the sun and some music to boot. So it's a case of wading through the bill of minor bands - being mildly distracted by the likes of Athlete and Idlewild - while catching-up with friends on the way to the bar.
"We came by Virgin Trains today," deadpans SFA Gruff about the event's backers. "Took us 15 hours." Ah, if only the band were as good as his quips. The Furries don't do justice to themselves with a sloooow moootion set unrecognisable from their enthralling Glastonbury show, bar the continued presence of technical difficulties (the most embarrassing of which is the failure of the triggered samples to appear on 'Man Don't Give A F*ck').
No such problems for The Flaming Lips whose Technicolor trip is still a sight to behold. Their antics - fake blood, dancing bears, confetti tossing and balloon exploding - might be a touch abstract for this crowd but they're once again the best thing on offer, far outweighing the blunt thrust of the Manics.
The loyalty of Manics fans - approximately half the number REM draw if anyone's counting (which you clearly were, rude boy - 'Motown Junk' Ed) - is astonishing given how out of touch they appear to be. For one thing, the mass of Richey clones that litter the site worship a guaranteed no show. And his former bandmates have changed beyond recognition, now all high-street combats and sensible haircuts. Where's the revolution in that? Still, reading political slogans adorning Manics t-shirts passes the time.
Badly Drawn Boy, meanwhile, is playing the closest ever show to his house and is at his unhinged best, rambling about Bruce Springsteen, the "f*cked" sound and his family. Translate that into uncomfortable viewing in parts (Jackson 5 karaoke opener) matched by moments of sublime tenderness ('Silent Sigh').
REM have proved this summer that they've still got something to say by straddling the past and future in the same setlist. As at Glastonbury, the handful of new tracks take some getting used to, but 'Everybody Hurts', 'At My Most Beautiful' and 'Orange Crush' on the other hand are welcome any time. Michael Stipe smiles, shuffles extravagantly and suggests he's to thank for the scorching weather, assuming the Christ-like pose to prove the point.
All told, there are plenty of positives about Move but it's frankly missing that magic ingredient - atmosphere - that you simply can't buy or guarantee. Still, for a festival sponsored by a notorious train company, the service was remarkably reliable.
