T in the Park
review
inging in he rain
The weather played good cop, bad cop but it couldn't break the festive spirit. Here's the highs, lows and blows of T IN THE PARK.
5 Words: Fiona Shepherd
: T in the Park 98 was undoubtedly a festival of - two halves. On Saturday, the sun shone, the breeze tickled and the vibes were lazy, as were many of the bands' performances. Come Sunday.
it was like entering an entirely different site, one where grass was a distant memory and wellies and binbag ponchos were de rigueur.
Initial disaster struck well before the rain
V when the PA in the Radio One tent blew before
any band had taken the stage. After they got stuck in the mud at Glastonbury and forfeited
i their set, it looked like Idlewild had extended j their festival jinx. However, things finally got up 5 and kicking four hours late with the Edinburgh i terriers yelping through their set in 'some
disarray, even by their untutored standards. Over in the NME Tent, Ultrasound regaled a
very patient audience with their frequently tortuous over-indulgence and ham theatrics, while Audioweb's potential to deliver skanking good reggae - compulsory at any festival - was never fully realised.
The main arena was packed for Robbie Williams who got away with murder. A hatchet job on summer heroine anthem ‘There She Goes', to be precise, during which he mimed guitar because he can't really play but has always wanted to. The crowd evidently thought that was just great, but all the goodwill in the world can't compensate for a talent deficit and The Big Robbie Disappointment was further compounded by poor sound.
Back in the NME Tent, Super Furry Animals and Spiritualized were effortlessly making everyone else sound crap, which is what you would expect from the two best bands in the country, both of whom would have been even more transcendent if they'd given us what we didn't expect.
The Prodigy rounded things off on the main stage with their usual chest-beating playground bully antics, which would be wearing a bit thin were it not for techno colossi like 'Poison' punching through the fading light.
Come Sunday, the picnic was over and the
Unsurprisingly The Beastie Boys ruled. In their Devo-esque boiler suits and yellow wellies, they reached the parts (the back of the field) that other bands can't.
review T IN THE PARK
PHOTOGRAPHS BY SHONA WONG
mud-wrestling had begun. Carrie made a good account of themselves, even if their melodic pop metal sounded progressively more like Green Day as the set continued. They scarpered to make way for heavyweights A, a band so hardcore they can't even introduce a song without making it sound like they’re offering you outside.
The Slam Tent proved the most effective respite from the Baltic climate and the Doors- sampling big beatiness of Monkey Mafia was enough to warm the most doleful souls. By the time The Tarantinos had run through their set of funk- soul covers in the Cafe Club Tent, you'd have been forgiven for thinking you were back in civilisation.
Unsurprisingly The Beastie Boys ruled. In their Devo-esque boiler suits and yellow wellies, they reached the parts (the back of the field) that other bands can't. However, even their expert trashing of every musical style known to man paled next to the much-anticipated performance from athletic combo les bleus. After their poetic stuffing of ‘tournament favourites' (yawn) Brazil, what else was there left to do but party big-ster with Fatboy Slim? The live Bunny of the 905 spliced recent favourites like 'Song 2' with classic oldies like ’When Doves Cry’. He's available for weddings and bar mitzvahs, apparently.
23 Jul—6 Aug 1998 THE UST 55