Wireless Festival 2008 - Jay-Z

Wireless Festival 2008
Day One
Hyde Park, London

After the controversy of Glastonbury, Jay-Z arrived in London to headline the most uncontroversial event in the music calendar. Wireless is the festival for people who don’t like festivals; with mud replaced by sponsors and organisation so regimented you feel artists will be struck down by some omnipotent overlord of the telecommunications world, should they have the audacity to be three minutes late for their timeslot.

Yet it’s all rather fun. Hot Chip get the crowd moving following earlier sets from the likes of Wiley and Lethal Bizzle, their latest single ‘Little Thoughts’ a bubbling, building slow-burner that displays the band’s status at the classier end of electro. The set lags at times; often the overriding feeling is that a DJ set would suffice, as the minimal stage presence of the uncomfortable-looking collective adds little to their overall effect. However, the gargantuan closing duo of ‘Over and Over’ and ‘Ready For The Floor’ heralds the arrival of the sunshine and illustrates just how good Hot Chip would be in a filthy little tent instead of a spacious stage.

Mark Ronson is far more suitable for this type of crowd, many arriving late after long days at work filled with hearing ‘Valerie’ on Radio One ten times a day. He’s as self-righteous as ever, orchestrating affairs from his post on bass, introducing each special guest with smarmy charm and mutual back-scratching. ‘Just’ is horrendous – if Radiohead didn’t think there should be trumpets on it, there shouldn’t be trumpets on it. Other tracks from his debut album ‘Version’ shine, notably when Tim Burgess takes to the stage for the Charlatans’ track ‘Only One I Know’. He’s all floppy hair and careless cool, while the track is a real departure and the alterations are worthwhile.

More collaborations ensue, with Wiley racing into view for a hyped-up rendition of ‘Wearing My Rolex’ working well, plus appearances from Candi Payne and the Rumble Strips singer Charlie. Then, it all goes terribly Lily Allen. Strolling onstage with pink hair and leopard skin bottoms, she proceeds to come in at the wrong time on her own song, ‘Littlest Things’ before blaming Ronson in an excruciatingly chummy rapport. Next, Kaiser Chiefs’ ‘Oh My God’ brings a rabble-rousing response, but Allen forgets the words.

Daniel Merriweather closes the show with a playful version of The Smiths’ ‘Stop Me’, as the whole cast joins him. Ronson, who had continually referred to Jay-Z during the gig, sets up the rapper’s arrival well, a flawed mix of inspired cuts and thoughtless, throwaway tracks.

This mirrors Jay-Z’s set well. Though the setlist from Glastonbury has changed, not much else has. Talk of special guests is thwarted, with only Memphis Bleek joining him, but it’s still wholesome entertainment. This isn’t the edgiest festival anyway, and Jay-Z’s intertwining of numerous crowd-pleasing samples keeps it that way. ‘Rehab’ is given a mischievous slant, ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ is all too brief, even ‘Back In Black’ sneaks in during ’99 Problems.’ The songs race by with ferocious pace, but there is no element of danger – he’s playing safe.

A skit on George Bush and Hurricane Katrina showcases his political conscience, with the President’s face garnering boos, which chance to cheers when it morphs into Barack Obama. Mainly though, there’s ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ and ‘Show Me What You Got’ and an atmosphere of passive enjoyment rather than intense engagement. There is a pleasant sense that it’s not all choreographed to within an inch of its life when Jay-Z cuts ‘Excuse Me Miss’ after one verse because he senses it isn’t working.

There’s falseness when he asks the crowd a carbon copy of his Glastonbury questions. “London – they say you don't want me in London...where's the love?” However, it gets the right reaction, with hands in the air and all manner of bouncing as a speedy version of ‘The Blueprint’ classic ‘Heart of the City’ signals the end of the set.

The final act of ‘Encore/Numb’ is a joyous affair, the perfect mix of bravado and skill and one of the few tracks everyone knows the words to. There’s nothing to grumble about here, everything is done professionally, but the spark is missing. Far from disappointing, it’s also far from life-affirming. Which is exactly what Wireless is too.

Joe Lean Glastonbury Interview

Joe Lean Keen On Glastonbury Festival Crowds

And Lily Allen's keen on him...

by Greg Rose
27 June 2008
Photo by: Nathan Gallagher

Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong played the biggest gig of their lives and described it as “the best experience we’ve ever had. It was bonkers, it blew my mind.”

Joe Lean was eager to tell Gigwise in the Orange Tent how much he loved the festival crowd and admitted his shock at the number of punters who saw his Other Stage set.

“We were really surprised the crowd was so big,” he said. “When I come here as a punter I stay in the little tents during the day, so I was amazed how many people turned up and were into us.”

The much-hyped band are desperate to show they are worthy of the attention, with Joe admitting it can cause him problems. “We’re still a new band, we’ve only played 100 gigs.

“All the hype is a blessing and a curse. We’ve had a rough time, but we’re trying to justify the faith people have in us, and having a great time too.”

Amongst the backstage mayhem, the singer claims he gets overawed by celebrities, but has admirers of his own. “I get starstruck all the time meeting all of these brilliant artists.

“Not quite the same thing this, but Lily Allen has been winking at me.”

Explaining his hectic schedule, he said: “We’ve had three days off in four months. I don’t even have a home, it’s a strange life, but I love it.”

Stay tuned to Gigwise for more Glastonbury gossip.

Glastonbury - Day One Review

Glastonbury 2008
Friday 27th June

At most festivals, you’re pretty sure of what is going to happen. You’ll see some bands, drink some beers and be saturated with tiredness, happiness and grubbiness by the end of it. At Glastonbury you get the above, but you might also chance upon a cult pondering in the woods, a dwarf dancing with a cow, a White Stripe playing with an Arctic Monkey, even a rapper playing to hundreds of thousands of middle-class white kids.

On Friday, things get off to a more conventional, if equally exciting start. Ida Maria performs a stellar set of theatrical, hard-edged rock. Resembling a clown lost in Shoreditch, she struts about the Other Stage with a feral sense of instability, the raciness of ‘Better When You’re Naked’ standing out.
















The Rascals look desperate for recognition. In the Last Shadow Puppets, Miles Kane is lauded; as frontman of these run-of-the-mill chancers, less so. However, it isn’t that clear cut; he sings ‘Freakbeat Phantom’ with spite and bile, a trippy, distortion heavy alarming alarm. Their songs of whores and settling scores are certainly flawed, but at least touch adventure, packed with snippets of lyrical bite.

Lightspeed Champion is similarly uncomfortable in the Guardian Lounge, if less arrogant. Soon though, Emmy The Great is serenading people lolling on sofas at the back while Dev Hynes filthily elegant alt-pop threatens to sum up the festival. It’s mixed, strange, tuneful, welcoming and finishes with the Star Wars theme.


We Are Scientists, whose comedic charm masks a terrible new album while old songs such as ‘This Scene Is Dead’ slay those waiting for The Enemy, draft Dev in for an amiable rendition of ‘After Hours’. It’s a sign of the numerous collaborations the weekend has in store. The band though? They’re tremendously amusing, but past it after two albums.

John Cale is still going after 37. He’s terrifying. Melding rickety blues with electronic occultism and sunshine melodies sounds inexplicably fruitless, but then you remember the Velvet Underground, so dropping other-worldly vileness in amongst heavenly gorgeousness is as natural as it is exquisite.

To headline Glastonbury, you generally need something different. Kings of Leon don’t have it. They’re like the other 400 indie bands here, but just irrefutably tighter and indisputably better. Belting out ‘On Call’ is genuinely anthemic, cavorting through a penetrative ‘McFearless’ is gripping, traversing into ‘Trani’ is grittily moving. A new song falls flat, Caleb gives a ‘speech’ consisting of two sentences, but it’s all extraneous. The Kings crown a stunning set with the rollicking mayhem of ‘Charmer’ and it’s off to Shangri-La to see a fat bloke from Bristol play Spice Girls and Motorhead hillbilly covers, while the aforementioned dwarf and cow run amok. Ah, Glastonbury.