United Kingdom | by Susan Le May | 10 June 2005

It was Britain's answer to Woodstock. In 1970 Jimi Hendrix plucked his guitar with world-shattering panache, Joni Mitchell cooed her way into folk folklore, and The Who became one of the most important bands in rock history. Rebellion against war and violence with Peace and Love saw 700,000 people (about six times the size of Glastonbury's current capacity) descend on a small island off the south coast of England for an event that embodied an entire decade. Reborn in 2001, the Isle of Wight Festival is now decidedly more controlled and corporate, similar in its 'middle of the road' music policy to V Festival, with mainstream rock music being the staple three courses. But can the magic be revived? Will the likes of Roxy Music and R.E.M rekindle the spirit of the those pioneering festivals more than three decades ago?

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Friday

Thousands descend upon the IoW in the fading Friday afternoon light, as the sweet Scottish vocals of Idlewild's pixie-faced Roddy Woomble waft across the increasingly merry revelers. The band's new material is surprisingly majestic and goes some of the way to dispelling their anodyne image. But it's Supergrass that provide the weekend's first standout set. Leaders of their domain, in the past decade they have gone from chimp-faced children to genre-driving hit makers. 'I Should Coco' album tracks, 'Strange Ones' and 'Lose It' bolster the last album's weaker offerings, and new song 'St Petersburg' hints that the past months of writing have indeed been fruitful. 'Caught By The Fuzz' and 'Moving' inspire stomping Britrock singalongs and a wave of summer festival spirit crashes over the site.

Razorlight are thoroughly uninspiring. Superslut Johnny Borrell minces around, hissing out hits from behind his teeth. Recent single 'Somewhere Else' renders them more credible and demonstrates the horsey frontman's songwriting talent, but Faithless sweep them aside with a stonking electro extravaganza to close the night. They dare to be political without overdoing it - Maxi Jazz paces the stage, spitting venom at the PM and struggling to resist the urge to reveal his ageing pecs. It's an ocean of arms aloft, united in the communality of the massive scale of this gig. The sun slips behind the hills and Friday night ripples into a huge summer dance party, peaking with 'God Is A DJ', 'Insomnia' and 'Mass Destruction'.   

Saturday

The beer and cider flow freely as former Kinks man Ray Davies strolls in on a gloriously 'Sunny Afternoon'. His voice sounds as rich and as wonderful as ever throughout 'Dead End Street' and grown men embrace for transvestite classic 'Lola'. Feeder are lucky to be following such a legend. Their efforts polish away the glimmers of the past to reveal radio friendly rock. 'High' hints at frontman Grant Nicholas' song writing capability and new single 'Pushing The Senses' proves Feeder can craft catchy pop/rock. The songs gleam like pesticide-covered fruits, but the band still have a palpable appeal and receive a rapturous response, unlike tragic gaggle of oldies, Roxy Music.

Bryan Ferry wheezes through a droning set that's even less stimulating than the tuneless new Babyshambles single. "Unfortunately, we're being told to get off," whines Ferry to virtual silence. The butchering of John Lennon's 'Jealous Guy' offers little salvation for the ageing band who insist on joint headline billing. Sweaty Betty Pete Doherty fumbled through a sloppy set earlier - his mere presence guarantees headlines for he and his supermodel supergroupie missus regardless.