Friday
Los Campesinos provided an ideal start to the weekend, with a perky, motivational brand of indie that seemed designed to get people into the right mood. But even they were a timid beast compared to Alphabeat who followed in King Tut's Wah Wah Tent, their unashamed pop stylings gloriously received by a crowd obviously craving a bit of camp.
The Radio 1/NME stage headliners The Chemical Brothers provided the sort of euphoria probably more suited to a final night. The ascendant guitar riff of Leave Home was just part of a frankly fearsome onslaught comprised of electronic beats and neuron-shredding noises.
Saturday
The disposition of Eddy Grant was so sunny that it managed to transcend the cloudy conditions overhead. Grant's reliably reggae-tinged rendition of Baby Come Back found the lunchtime Saturday crowd in their usual resplendent form. By contrast, Gun looked a little wary as they followed on the main stage. Recently reformed, their early-90s pomp rock seemed out of place and out of time, though their spirited cover of Cameo's Word Up is always guaranteed to get things going. In contrast, The Stranglers were living proof that classic songs breed longevity. King Tut's Wah Wah Tent was so full for their set that it proved impossible to get in for their glorious rendition of Golden Brown.
Even without their toplessness Biffy Clyro would have stunned onlookers on the main stage; it was a record-breaking eighth appearance for the Ayrshire band who should have even brighter days to look forward to if the rock-sodden, fist-punching finale of set standout 57 was anything to go by.
Erol Alkan provided an upbeat soundtrack in the Slam Tent, but main stage headliners Rage Against the Machine didn't so much crush the competition as sit astride them like giant rap-rock goliaths, reminding everyone of what they have been missing these past few years. Know Your Enemy and Vietnow were incendiary enough that the onslaughts should have been preceded by a safety warning. The highlight was the brilliant chaos of Killing In The Name. Vicious though it may be, it was a perfectly cathartic way to celebrate the festival's fifteenth anniversary.
Sunday
Sunday opened to some welcome glimpses of sunshine. Sadly, though perhaps with good reason, Bowling For Soup provided a shocking, painful hangover cure for the unfortunately unwary who sidled up to the main stage early on.
The US band's luridly juvenile pop-punk at least provided a nice contrast to the more welcome spasmodic metal lurchings of Mindless Self Indulgence, who created some entertaining moments of sheer unpredictability over at the Radio 1/NME stage.
A particular highlight came when the appropriately named Jimmy Urine batted away a thrown-on plastic pint cup of dubious contents. What better way to get things going early on a Sunday afternoon at T in the Park?
A euphoric presence manifests itself to a grateful audience in the form of British Sea Power, whose anthemic No Lucifer provides a suitably seismic explosion of epic indie-rock. After that the Slam Tent takes centre stage, where Miss Kittin and The Hacker initially dazzle with a live rendition of accessible techno-pop before the mighty Justice floored onlookers with an opening gambit of Genesis and Phantom (Part One). That Pendulum were on at the same time (in the Wah Wah Tent) was a pleasure almost too much to bear.
On, then, to the Relentess Stage, for two acts destined for much bigger things in the future. Holy F*** were simply a revelation, their organic take on electronic music building to such a crescendo that it's almost insulting to see it staged in such cosy environs. And The Presets, despite some technical hiccups, were a suitably exceptional end to the festivities, My People and I Go Hard, I Go Home proving particularly joyous.
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