Bestival 2009 - Sunday
Posted 24th Sep 2009 in Features, Fleet Foxes | Written by Martin Davies | 0 comments
Sunday begins in traditional British fashion, with a healthy lie in, with many campers rousing after midday. After her Mercury Prize win, Speech Debelle's scheduled slot easily fills the Red Bull tent, people spill outside, all keen see what all the fuss is about. The attention is deserved, as Debelle is a compelling talent and a deserving winner. Unable to gain any position, we instead venture back to the main stage and to composer Michael Nyman. An odd choice, but Rob da Bank's bookings are nothing if eclectic. Nyman meticulously slaves over the ivories, pausing incrementally to conduct with one index finger. While his works are exquisitely reproduced, his performance lacks any personality; with his back to the crowd he remains silent. A sea of blue faces surround the mainstage for Oxfam's 'shout until you're blue in the face' campaign. Bestival isn't short on supporting causes - Sunday also sees thousands attempting to break the world record for the number of people wearing pants, for Pants To Poverty, while all weekend patrons can add their thumbprint for Save The Children's 'make your mark' campaign. Promotion for such charities is welcomed and admirable, but it would build a false picture to mention these and ignore the increased presence of corporate monsters.
Rowntrees Randoms (a Nestlé venture), the Red Bull tent, Microsoft's XBOX stage and the Rizla arena are all present, the latter sitting particularly uneasy - irresponsible for a festival billed as 'kid friendly'. It diminishes the hippy, anti-capitalism paradise that Bestival should be. This festival is in danger of losing its appeal and becoming just another commercial event, not dissimilar to V Festival. Having said that, the thing that sets it apart is the music. Rob da Bank's love of music and his nurturing ways through his Radio 1 links help leftfield musicians to get exposure and hit a mainstream audience, by the time Bestival comes around you find a festival booked with a wealth of names, and a number of unknowns that are just as pleasing when stumbled upon.
Clouds are gathering, on this, the last day, like a natural countdown to Bestival's end, they draw closer and gather weight, drawn in by the reflective sets from both Doves and Fleet Foxes. It's a passionate performance from the latter, like Simon and Garfunkel in another time; mysteriously modern, each song is short, snappy and epic. Sadness is in the air as people think about going home, their sombre performance serves as a come down to the excesses of the weekend. Feeling like spoilt children, sick from too many sweets, we retreat until next year.
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