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Uh-oh. Is that thunder we can hear? Yep it bloody well is, and some rain too as our unlucky elected weatherman discovers on being booted outside the tent. No one wants to leave as the grey sky is lit up with an electrifying bolt of lightening, particularly this reviewer who has just had metal rods and bolts put into her spine. But the show must go on, and with the best line up of the festival so far, we cheerfully crash stage-ward into what will be the first of many muddy puddles today.
Thinking what to wear for that wedding or special occasion? Well, you could take a leaf out of Karen O's book; the woman always seems to get it right. What better to wear on a day like this than a technicolour, crotch skimming PVC dress with oversized flowers on the front, a matching swimming hat and ripped tights? She wouldn’t look out of place on the front of a tacky bungalow, and in keeping with this bizarre outfit, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs put on the most visually exiting and unusual shows of the weekend. Prowling around the stage like a wild animal, the packs of photographers can’t get enough of Miss O as she crawls, wriggles, flicks her tongue out and bares her knickers. Between songs she gulps down mineral water, tosses her head back and shoots it up like from a whale’s blow hole. She also brings out a series of spangly scarves, covering her own and guitarist Nick Zinner’s face as they continue to perform blind. ‘Gold Lion’ is a crowd favourite, along with ‘Let Me Know’ as the audience do their best to keep up with all the squeaks, yelps and howls. There must be a crate of cough syrup waiting backstage.
We might be needing some too; the rain has been coming down so hard now that the entire festival site has been reduced to rivers of mud and most people have given up trying to look cool. At the side of the Alpha stage where we’re now headed to see t’Arctic Monkeys, a muddy gauntlet has appeared on the hill, flanked by cheering masses as people run and slide a good 100 meters in the sludge. An enormous crowd bursts from the tent seams and joyful, dancing specks fill the horizon as the lads appear. One rather geeky man in his forties goes absolutely wild to ‘I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ as his be-speckled friend looks on disapprovingly and everyone enjoys bellowing the line “I’ve seen him with girls of the night” in ‘When The Sun Goes Down’. However, it has to be said that the band are a bit of a disappointment tonight, looking like grounded teenagers, they don’t seem all that enthusiastic. Maybe they’re just being ‘dry’. As the MTV cameraman swoops off the band onto the now naked men rolling down mud hill, the cheering is deafening. Not a twitch of a smile can be detected on Alex Turner’s lips and the band stop mid-song. This goes on for a full five minutes and when the focus is back on him, Turner mutters into the mic “it’s just a bit of water” and resumes play. Bit of a mardy bum, but funny.
At this point, there’s a gap in the schedule and Gigwise makes an executive decision to walk back to the tent to check it’s still intact. Some are not as lucky as we turn out to be and our path is littered with manky bits of bedding and beer cans floating next to some very soggy, flat tents. We return in time for the grand finale of an unbelievable three days at Lowlands: Muse. Currently nominated for a ‘Best Live Act’ gong, it’s easy to see why and hard to believe we’ve never been to see them live before. The sky is a thick black, the rain has stopped at last and Matthew Bellamy and Co are beamed onto the stage by a space-age silver light. As the bony front man wriggles and writhes under the weight of the loudest guitar heard all weekend, the awe-struck, slack-jawed crowd pull themselves together to challenge it with an ear splitting rendition of ‘Plug In Baby’. Muse pelt us, over and over with hit after hit, Bellamy’s vocals going to mind blowing extremes, squeezing notes we never knew existed from the crook of his throat. With people clutching half way up 40 foot guy-ropes to get a better look, the audience refuses to let them leave, summoning them back for a further three songs including the magnificent ‘Stockholm Syndrome’. Gigwise sees it out, bin bags artfully taped around legs and balanced on the barriers, singing well into the night.
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