Friday 24/07/09 The Wickerman Festival, Day One @ East Kirkcarswell, Scotland

At most identikit music festivals this year, the main concern of smaller acts playing will be going up against whichever predictable landfill indie dirge has been booked to headline. 

So, how would they feel about competing against a Saturday night headliner that is a terrifying 50 foot neo-pagan Wicker effigy that has its roots in, you know, human sacrifices to the gods and that? As you can already tell, the Wickerman festival, set in gloriously picturesque coastal Scotland, isn’t like other festivals.

On Friday, Billy Bragg delivers his usual impassioned electric update on Woody Guthrie’s folk tradition. Armed only with an electric guitar, some great storytelling and fierce polemics, he doesn’t dampen the legendary Scottish hedonism already on display in the crowd. Perhaps Bragg is so likeable because he speaks about the politics of the everyday without condescending or coming across as a self-righteous prick (take heed Bono and Chris Martin). Or perhaps its because he is a great, great songwriter and tunes such as ‘A New England’ still have an observational, Ken Loach style dissection of the modern complexities of living in Britain. For the encore he leads a mass sing-along of Bob Marley’s ‘One Love’, of course changing the words to being about dropping third world debt.

From there, it’s down to Idlewild to blast into their ‘Scottish REM’ repertoire to full effect. Thankfully, we get a highlight reel of the story so far, featuring all of their trademark windswept poetic romance. ‘You Held The World In Your Arms’ precedes the now ancient ‘When I Argue (I See Shapes)’ followed by some insights into forthcoming album ‘Post Electric Blues’. I promised myself a long time ago that I would hurl myself off a bridge rather than use clichés such as “return to form” but you should be looking forward to the new record in October. New track ‘City Hall’ is everything that is great about Idlewild. Today they amazingly look and sound as fresh as when a teenage Roddy Woomble was literally hanging upside down off rafters in the toilet venues of Britain like a highlands version of Batman.

Erm, do The Magic Numbers still exist? The worst thing about them is that no band will ever be allowed to do that whole endearing melodic Mamas and Papas thing ever again without being compared to them. And I’m certain that someone could do it much better.

Hot Chip’s DJ set, whilst not exactly providing the pop thrills of their live show delivers the goods, a repetitive and pounding aural equivalent of brain melting drugs. Scotland chews its collective face off.  They follow Jay and Kev, who despite sounding like the premise for an ultra camp version of a men behaving badly remake actually play some screeching, scorching feel good techno as a warm up.   

Seriously though - The Human League are robotic cyborgs now, right? Put Philip Oakley in the Wicker Man and I’ll bet any money that he would emerge as The Terminator, still pre-programmed to belt out ‘Don’t You Want Me’ and ‘Love Action’ They are a strange band to have endured so long and I can’t suppress the urge of wanting to smash that keytar over someone’s head but they seem more relevant than ever, with Little Boots et al hopelessly diluting their pioneering spirit into a generic pop mess. Oakley and Giorgio Moroder’s ‘Together In Electric Dreams’ is the euphoric curtain call to day one and is still one of the greatest pop songs every written.