T in the Park 2012: Review

Friday 7th to Sunday 9th July 2012 – T in the Park, Balado, Kinross Words: Ashley Spink

FRIDAY As thoughts of a post-apocalyptic scene weigh on the minds of 85,000 people marching in force through unpredicted sunshine, defiant T in the Park goers were already in jubilant mood. Patting backs and smirking like mischievous Goofy's, everyone was animated as they prayed for the biblical weather to hold back.

Galloping through blades of lush grass like baby goats on the Friday, revellers were keen to juggle their tepid lagers with tent pegs as they lay claim to their castles through spears of sun. "Aye. Where the hell do these people get the weather forecast from?", mutters a half-tanked Scottish bloke unwittingly tempting fate for the days ahead.

!As happy campers trundled down to the arena through hand claps and free hugs the main arena finally opened to frenzied frolics. Cue The Darkness to embrace the T stage and kick things off with their pirate-like ways and cat suit Lycra; they endeavoured to throw their faith into a stream of anthems –including a scintillating ‘I Believe In A Thing Called Love’ - to burst the seams of spiralling Scottish spirit.

Tribes had Scotland eating out of their palms during an afternoon sweatbox session in the Transmission tent. Igniting passion through perfection and blistering through tracks like 'We Were Children' they inspired a festival sing-a-long that echoed right down to Labrinth making earthquakes at one end of the field, and Example serving up a pre-dusk dance spectacle at the other.

As night fell, a Scotch haze loomed. Characterizing the picturesque backdrop of the mountains and merging a paint pallet of colour, Florence Welch entered the main stage with her Machine. Resembling an elegant swan dipped in black silk, she wavered and flowed her golden locks like a Rapunzel calling. Gliding over a cast of first night pleasantries she reined in the crowd with hits like 'You Got The Love', 'Dog Days Are Over' and the recent production of 'What The Water Gave Me' on a set backdrop of majestic mirrors.

After a surging shuffle, revellers picked their spot wisely for T in the Park veterans Snow Patrol. As the band enters Gary Lightbody yells: "We keep coming back because it's the best festival in the world". Throwing a mixture of lasers and lights, Lightbody rallied in and out of tracks like a pitbull on a rampage. Tearing up treats like Ed Sheeran's surprise appearance on a rendition of 'New York', Snow Patrol's plainspoken lyrics championed the crowd. Deploying the upbeat tempos of 'Run' and a tremendous 'Chasing Cars', the packed crowd bonded in vocal unison and applaud before the band ended with the sublime synth-pop production 'Just Say Yes'.

! SATURDAY Whilst night fell and dawn rose, the airy elements of tip tap rain splashed and bounced off tents. And then she came. That hounding rumble of Mother Nature burst open with cruel intentions. By afternoon Saturday, Kinross was almost like a film set. It was Braveheart meets Titanic as water flushed through the site ripping up grass as campers became emerged in a battlefield of mud and stodge. Everyone perused to brave the cold inhospitable conditions whilst the mud frothed and duplicated like an angel delight overdose.

In typical T in the Park spirit, the adverse conditions only heightened the atmosphere. Raised spirits pointed in the direction of Shed Seven's set as 'Chasing Rainbows' bellowed out cries to clear the rain and throw some colour into the gloomy skies. A gob-smacked, Jake Bugg was overwhelmed by the humble praise he received after becoming a last minute addition to the line-up. The young singer pounced on his 'Lightening Bolt' track like a kid tackling a sweet shop. As The Wailers bought a slice of reggae to shake the rain clouds it was left for Emeli Sandé to make that cry for 'Heaven' to fit into proceedings at a perfectly timed moment.

!During the slips, trips and sometimes pre-opted falls people were soon enough dancing in swimming bath-like conditions. Many took it in turns to boast their best Klinsmann and wallow in dirt. Although, music wasn't the only attraction to give the mighty festival its credibility.

The newly grounded Residence village meant that campers could now sleep in quality surroundings. Fairground attractions of unique log flumes and big wheel mania set the arena alight. Although this weekend, people deciding to mount the dizzy stratospheres of some rides looked more like sodden clothes in tumble dryers. As for the food, you could travel the world to combine the flavours on offer in just one holding. Delving inside the campsite, the dance tents attracted hard-core move busters and midnight ravers. The party was endless, and yes, all this in the pouring rain!

As Saturday became established, The Vaccines had no problem churning out first album favourites. Thrusting their pelvis' they were persistent in keeping things hyped. Knighting a set that nearly never happened due to equipment being left somewhere between Edinburgh and Denmark, the band still delivered that gritty guitar vibe we've all grown to love before fan favourite, Jessie J carried on the party.

Over at the second stage The Courteeners decided it would be them who'd brace T as the first Mancunian act of the night. Serving up indie throbbing guitar and lyrical wordplay the group excelled before Noel Gallagher gathered his High Flying Birds. Starting the set with 'The Good Rebel', Gallagher cried "Rain, like rain. I don't care for the sunshine". Supporting his call neither did the highly energetic crowd. But the moment of glory came last. A treat that knocked the sheep in the fields dead as 'Don't Look Back In Anger' became a track of the weekend. Wavering through to the back fields and still hanging somewhere above the clouds, a magical moment was made.

"Come on The Roses! Come on The Roses!". The time was almost near. As lemons and paint become splashed and sprayed oozing anticipation The Stone Roses - Brown, Squire, Mani and Reni - surfaced. There was no need for an introduction. Just lashing straight into a set echoing the success of recent Heaton Park demolition. It was now the time for the mud to bow down to the people. 'This is the One'. This is the moment. This is The Roses!

Everybody braced themselves for pint missiles and pissing down rain to continue, but that didn't matter. 'I Wanna Be Adored' was rattling through the speakers. 'Sally Cinnamon' was rigorous and the zest of the topping produced 'I Am The Resurrection'. Greeted by flares and sore throats the set lead Brown to offer his own opinion: "She uses your place as a private underground. Why don't you f*** her off!?", in reference to the Queen. As four pairs of hands were raised and bowed The Roses swaggered away onto their next expedition, leaving the crowd in need of a stiff drink to ease their larynx.

! SUNDAY With people rising from their sodden pits on the Sunday, it came as no surprise that a few decided to head home from the hills. But that didn't stop the warriors of the festivals braving it for one more day of debauchery. You'd be mad not too.

It was the day of Swedish House Mafia to bring their electronic grinds back to the Scottish fields for the second year running and repeat last years displays of pulsating, razor sharp dance anthems and fuse an electro-tropical storm. The Enemy had been in boiler mode for much of the day. Thrusting into the King Tuts tent pumped and un-packing their bag of records. "This is what a f***ing guitar looks like!", spits Tom Clarke with his proud wit. Aiming his anger at lack of national radio play.

!Baby faced Tom Chaplin faced the job of keeping main stage revellers bouncing. Throwing Keane's melancholy-uplift of piano-led class into the arms of thousands as Frank Turner also showcased his delightful acoustic edge to an equally sound crowd over at the NME stage. Nicki Minaj, 50 minutes behind her stage time became the weekend's villain. Greeted by boos, nobody held mercy for the 'Super Bass' singer who was quashed by roars of disappointment. There's a lesson for the future.

Battling like a solid army through a day of developing trench foot our reward was soon near. Kasabian were ready to spill their lad-rock dressing-box of Chelsea boots and bandanna's over a sea of dampened ducks. Slipping in and out of turbulent tracks like child's play the band bought tact effeminacy. Racking up the flares to 'L.S.F', spectators were "well up for it!" and rocked out to the global tones of 'Empire' and the absurd class of 'Processed Beats'.

With 'Goodbye Kiss' aspiring to establish itself as Kasabian's new sing-along-anthem, people were already throwing lyrics the bands way with ease. Ending the night on the electrifying 'Fire', it was job done. Leaving Tom Meighan to grab the mic and sing Beatles classic 'She Loves You' in acapella, it ended the weekend with vivacious applaud becoming intertwined with the eye-catching fireworks display, allowing the crowd to disperse from a euphoric environment and head for that much needed bath.