The Wight Stuff

Forty years ago hippy legends Jefferson Airplane performed to a field of flower children on the Isle Of Wight. In the intervening years the grassy enclave hosted pint-sized prince of glam Marc Bolan and the first public appearance of Dylan after his career-altering motorcycle accident. In 1970, Hendrix, The Doors and The Who attracted crowds of 600,000, surpassing Woodstock for attendance. Each seminal concert showcased the freshest young talent of its generation.

But this is the 21st century and pop has eaten and regurgitated itself several times over. The result? An eclectic, generation-straddling bill where The Kaiser Chiefs, N*E*R*D and The Hoosiers nestle cosily beside The Police, The Sex Pistols and Iggy & The Stooges. This truly is a golden age for live music: thank your parents for their timely procreating.
Having arrived on day two of the proceedings, a mouthwatering line-up of Iggy, Ian Brown, The Zutons, The Enemy and Kate Nash, topped by the aforementioned punk pioneers awaits.
Nash opened her energetic set with an electric ‘Pumpkin Soup’ and continued to charm with ‘Mouthwash’ and ‘Foundations’, while a powerful rendition of the quietly explosive ‘Don’t You Want To Share The Guilt?’ was a set highlight.
Next up Tom Clarke and his Weller-esque posturing. The Enemy raise the tempo with tunes from their hit-packed We’ll Live And Die In These Towns. ‘Had Enough’, inspires a sing-along and plenty of air-punching proves that the crowd definitely haven’t. But time is ticking on and they wrap up with ‘You’re Not Alone’ and Clarke tells the crowd: “I’ll see you down the front for the Pistols!”
“Ah, big blow-up penises, they’re the greatest,” laughs Zutons frontman Dave McCabe, commenting on an interesting inflatable item in the audience. The Liverpudlians’ blend of alt-rock with soul sensibilities delights the sun-soaked festival-goers, and ‘Valerie’ provides one of the more raucous sing-songs of the day.
“We are the underloved, overtrodden fucking Stooges,” yells Iggy Pop before blasting into a pulverising pair of tunes from 1970’s Funhouse - ‘Loose’ and ‘Down On The Streets’. Elsewhere in the set canine capers abound as the Ig crouches down on all fours to bark his way through ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ and ‘No Fun’ is screamed into the face of one particularly unfortunate, blushing security guard. Très Pop indeed.
Following Iggy on stage is a tall order and one that Ian Brown didn’t even bother to try to match. Morosely shuffling on stage sporting an eye injury, he comments: “I got pulled off the stage yesterday. I had to have stitches. I’ve still got one eye on you though.”
The original monkey man careened through a lacklustre set, save for an ethereal performance of ‘Fear’, which seemed to transcend time, space and any other quantum limitations to transport the crowd to a collective higher consciousness. Er, you had to be there! And now, heeeere’s Johhhhnnnny, resplendent in pyjama top shirt and baggy trousers, maniacal stare intact. Mr Rotten and co enter to a deafening roar.
“Tonight we will be singing songs from the book of Sod’s law. Sing along or fucking die,” he bellows, blending equal parts rage and indifference.
Lydon’s ranting needs polish, his tiresome pro-England tirade will of course be refined for the Electric Picnic, where he will rediscover his Irish roots but other references to “fucking homo bands” made him appear glib and misdirected, when numerous interviews have revealed him to be a bright cerebral individual.
Although Iggy and Johnny are as entertaining as ever, their vitriol appearing not to have waned one iota in its vehemence, there is a nagging feeling that it’s verging on cabaret. The original ire that was born from financial hardship, economic recession and drug addiction is now fueled by… what? Soy shakes and Camomile tea on the patio of a California mansion? As thoroughly enjoyable as both sets are, there’s an element of belief suspension involved.
That said, the Pistols high-octane 90-minute set saw ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Pretty Vacant’ being welcomed home like prodigal children by an adoring crowd. An encore that included an explosive ‘Anarchy In The UK’ and ear-shattering cover of Hawkwind’s ‘Silver Machine’ left this reporter counting the hours until Stradbally.

The BT Isle Of Wight Festival is held annually in Newport, Isle Of Wight.