Benicassim 2012 (Day Three)

Prior to arriving at Benicassim we’d heard it referred to as Shoreditch-on-Sea; and given yesterday’s huge array of twangy, refined guitar music, it did indeed seem like the whole population of East London – complete with ironic Hawaiian shirts and give-away thick-rimmed glasses – had descended. Tonight, however, is a different matter altogether. The lads are out in force. Running amock with chino shorts and distasteful henna tattoos, there is a constant chant of “Chug! Chug!” ringing across the festival ground. Hearty Northern booms are audible around the bar excitably chattering about Noel Gallagher, and that recently reformed lot from Madchester’s heyday. The mood seems jolly enough. Then, quite suddenly, the strawpeedo-ing of beer ceases, a universal expression of confused distain spreads across the faces of the male clientele. A lady with incredible red platforms and flowers in her hair has just taken to the stage, and she has started grabbing her crotch.

The mood polarizes completely, transforming instantly into something akin to a more terrifying remake of Spiceworld. Girls everywhere are now the rowdy ones - shrieking with delight whilst simultaneously chanting “Do it like a dude” and grabbing at invisible trouser snakes. Most men are bemused. “I’m only here for the missus” clarifies a particularly sullen looking guy next to us who looks rather like he’s been forced to attend a slumber-party complete with nail painting and girly gossip. As Jessie J rattles through her catalogue of big hits, we initially try hard to retain at least some hint of composure – ‘Price Tag’ ruins that, and we can even overlook the somewhat shady message ‘it’s not about the money’ that doesn’t quite gel with the state of festival ticket prices these days. Jessie J welcomes mumsy crowd member Laura to the stage – and the ensuing duet is both hilarious and tremendously endearing. Meanwhile we’ve lost it completely and we’re bounding and thrashing around in an almost tribal fashion with every other girl on site. The lads have caved too, summoning up husky tones to belt out ‘LaserLight’. By the end we’ve even been charmed by Jessie J, who seems genuinely flabbergasted, and is rendered quite emotional by the massive crowd response. It’s actually very nice to see Jessie J as a (kind of) normal human being rather than the be-fringed super-persona we’re used to.

A reluctant Jess finally peels herself away from the stage, and we beat a hasty tactical retreat to avoid being trampled by the wildebeast-like stampede that is descending for Noel Gallagher and his High Flying Birds. It proves a wise decision as the largely generic “wah wah wahs” and guitar solos are causing quite a stir. It isn’t quite doing it for us, however, and we opt to re-fuel at the bar while we wait for Noel to reel out the Oasis. Our moment finally comes as the set culminates in ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’, and we barrel our way back into the throngs to secure a good place amid the confusion. Our progress is momentarily hindered as I am hoisted into the air by a gang of excitable Scousers, but after being returned to the floor we grab the opportunity to get an opposing review from some dedicated fans – for the purpose of preventing bias, of course. “Noel is a bloody legend and that’s the end of it,” aptly summarises our newly acquired gang.

Bidding farewell to the Liverpool lads we continue our weaving mission towards the stage, where we eventually settle by a group of jovial Scottish women. One of them is, somewhat worryingly, slumped lifelessly on the floor, but when we gingerly enquire as to her well-being, she springs back to life with admirable gusto, screaming “I am the resurrection!” at the top of her lungs. As we gradually find ourselves surrounded by lemon t-shirts and paint splattered homages, it’s apparent that everyone, like us, is really here for The Stone Roses. Even our shrieking Scottish neighbours are mollified as the arena plunges into darkness and the intial famous crackles make way for that opening bass line and the twinkling melodies of ‘I Wanna Be Adored’. It’s a truly magical moment when those huge pounding drums come in, and the entire capacity howls “I don’t need to sell my soul” along with Ian Brown - providing the best, most enthusiastic backing choir around. Not that we’re watching some past-it old timers who need our assistance – The Stone Roses are, quite frankly, owning it effortlessly. The entire set becomes one of those rare freeze frame moments where you become so lost in the music that it doesn’t much matter where you are, or what else is happening. Ian Brown paces the stage during the spiraling extended jams of ‘Fools Gold’ and ‘Love Spreads’, sternly waving tambourines, visibly trying to disguise a delighted smirk. Acid inspired graphics take over the screens and technicoloured lighting shoots over the crowd – it’s breathtaking. “I suppose you girls are far too young to have seen The Stone Roses in their heyday” enquires a middle-aged fan in between numbers. “Well I tell you, this takes me right back to the Hacienda, ‘xcept I’m completely sober this time around!”

The spectacle continues, with Ian Brown waving martial arts figurines in front of the onstage cameras for no apparent reason, and Mani placing increasingly complex layers of cloth upon his head. The set, a slightly condensed version of Heaton Park, throws up no real surprises with the likes ‘She Bangs The Drums’, ‘Waterfall’ and ‘Made Of Stone’ all thankfully being present and correct, and performed as absolute textbook examples of psychedelic rock. The Stone Roses finish, fittingly, with ‘I Am The Resurrection’ – and indeed the takeover seems complete. As the four embrace before joining hands for a unified bow it’s an emotional end for everyone. We’ll confess we did take a look at the silhouette of Sierra Nevada Mountain against the clear night, and then back at The Stone Roses - we did feel a bit teary, bless us. For someone who never dreamt they’d get the chance to see The Stone Roses performing live, this is personally a very special moment. For every single audience member, for The Stone Roses even, this is no doubt a very special moment too; for all manner of different reasons. The buzz across Benicassim seemed different somehow when we woke up on Saturday morning, and heading back to camp, there is a feeling that nothing can possibly hope to top tonight’s headline set.