Wireless Festival, Hyde Park, London
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
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Wireless 08 petered to a close on Sunday with Counting Crows showing why few people have missed them in the past five years.
It is even longer since the MOR band, led by Adam Duritz, troubled mainstream consciousness with the likes of "Mr Jones". Before Duritz failed to rouse the crowd, The Hold Steady topped the second stage, where they cemented their reputation as both live phenomenon and astute interpreters of real-life Americana.
Having conquered Somerset, Jay-Z continued to sell gangster rap with a smile. Brief glimpses of conscience – an a cappella rap on Hurricane Katrina and support for Obama – sat oddly beside his main theme: money-making by any means necessary. Earlier, Mark Ronson had a star-studded Versions show, with Lily Allen and Tim Burgess upstaged by Wylie's hit "Wearing My Rolex".
On Friday, the crowd paid homage to the arch outsider, Morrissey. Since his 2004 comeback, he has transformed himself into a Las Vegas travesty and here was all coquettish asides. There was new material, the likes of "Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed", hinting at a rockier direction. Nothing to compare with a glorious "How Soon Is Now?" and "Vicar In A Tutu".
Beck, meanwhile, was that day's charmless man. Dressed in black, with hair down to his shoulders, he barely acknowledged his audience. "Loser" and "Devil's Haircut" were tossed aside with indifference, before he unveiled his new album Modern Guilt. A four-piece band were unable to replicate the psychedelic flourishes provided by its producer, Danger Mouse. He finally roused us with "Two Turntables And A Microphone", a rare reminder of past glories.
On dance-dominated Saturday, few open-air acts could match the intensity of US act Sam Sparro, who threw Eighties pop and Nineties house into the pot to come up with a winning formula. Even more ecstatic was the reception for veterans Underworld, who, in a hits-strewn set, proved the best thing to go with repetitive beats was streams of consciousness.
And while Swedish star Robyn struggled in daylight and Bootsy Collins's James Brown tribute grew tiresome, only DJ Fatboy Slim's rock'n'rave onslaught compared. Amid the branding plastered on every surface, Wireless suddenly felt slightly less legal and ordered.
