Primavera Day Two

Bradford Cox is on fine form, "So many memories, so many to be made," he announces before breaking into the set. The festival, having hit its stride yesterday has become a little competitive. Bands who would normally be looking to 'try something new' have retreated into safer best-of territories. It's fair to say, what most bands are striving for is nothing short of historic. In the case of Deerhunter, 'historic' equates to rocking harder than anyone else before entering a jam, so intense and rich with devastating shredding only a thirty minute riff war can resolve it.

Pulp on the other-hand went down the more conventional line even if you could draw comparison with Cox's previous comment and a revived brit-pop singer. "Tonight we are going to make history because the present is so elusive," declared Cocker, somewhat less stylishly than in print. Regardless, bands are going for it.

Filling out the confines of this holiday car park, little has changed with the stylistics of Jarvis Cocker - all limbs and anecdote - but what Pulp lack in surprise they more than make up for in sheer crowd-pleasing. Running through 'Do You Remember The First Time?' dangerously early in the set, there were to be any combination of hits for the taking. Their set emerged as a suitable launch pad for their reformation, and despite being quintessential middle-England in sarcastic tone, 'Sorted For E's and Whizz' reminds us just how universal the love for them is.

Low chop through a greatest hits set with highlights coming from relatively fresher tracks in 'Murderer' and 'Silver Rider.' Performed on the ATP Stage which plays home to the best sound; the slowcore melted a swelling audience, every chord a gem, every tom stroke deft.

Unfortunately it wasn't all epic even for the most revered acts as Belle & Sebastian flopped harder than Deerhunter rocked. The group - whose stage presence, fey at best but mostly wet, amounted to little more than an arms akimbo pose - suffered from massive sound issues with the group failing to deliver little more than a whisper to their loving fans. There are tens of thousands of bands around the world who exist because of this group, if only they saw what a fool's mission they're on.

Battles on the other hand gave non-stop reasons for movement. Being one member down in the now awol and solo-project Tyondai Braxton, we're left with three serious-faced blokes who know how to rock a polyrhythm. There was a slight absence of earthiness, a voice to the set, growling bass at times, that would have segued nicely with the beat yearnings of the previous evening. Nonetheless they impressed and weren't half as non-personable as Gloss Drop might suggest.

Restoring a sense of grandiose nature to the day was Lindstrøm, who whipped through his hits having come on stage to an audience of two dozen, he connected his laptop and commenced. A modest gesture to sound off a day where such a commodity seemed scarce.