Sugarkult completely misjudge the mood, but My Morning Jacket get it just right...
There’s mass indifference towards Sugarcult’s gawky sugarpunk.. [a]Jimmy Eat World[/a]could pull this off, but cruising on Californian autopilot and singing songs in honour of “my psycho-bitch ex-girlfriend” doesn’t sit well at Glasto, and nobody’s convinced. It’s not even clear they know which festival they’re playing.
The mood is pushed further out there by [a]My Morning Jacket[/a], who flush out a dose of woozy alt.country. Clucky Americana sets the tone, but it’s when they give way into dreamy country wig-outs, brave drum solos and a final song that seems to last for 20 minutes that the Other Field properly drifts off in a musty haze of lazy bliss.
Simple Kid levels things out, however, with a cute-as-buttons display of goofy baseball-capped anti-folk. Clipped and perky, yet supremely chilled, he sets the tone properly for a hazy final day. And it’s not even lunchtime.
Yet things are piped down pretty much as soon as they’re buoyed up by The Gathering – kind of Clannad with rock moves. Not as bad as it sounds, but hardly inspirational.
10.30am seems a touch early for The Rain Band’s boisterous Mancunia, but Sunday Glastonbury needs a slap on the chops to set it off on the last lap, and ‘The Runaways’ does what’s necessary with panache.