Guilfest 2004: Friday

First out of the trailer on the Radio 2 Main Stage and hitting the ground running are Speedway, a guitar driven Glaswegian band fronted by vocalist and guitarist Jill Jackson, who describes her music a 'kind of melodic pop - Blondie meets Texas'. She's living in the clouds, and her power ballads wash over like a luke warm shower - pleasant enough but very unexceptional.

As Speedway walk off stage, legions of white haired 'Damned' faithfuls fill the area in front of the stage, their black t-shirts stretched to their paunched limit. Suddenly the entire family, sporting natty red berets and similar black tees, who stopped to give us directions earlier, makes sense. Back together after the many splits, tiffs and fights, The Damned's Captain Sensible and scary gothic frontman Dave Vanian combine to create a very strange but welcome spectacle indeed, with Sensible in fun-fur jacket, bondage trousers, alongside the ever theatrical Vanian, who is dressed in a surgeon's gown and black leather gloves. Together they hammer down the tough rocky set everyone has so obviously come to see - especially those who believe 'wanker' to be a term of endearment.

Of course, The Damned are really here to provide the overture and break the ice for local boys The Stranglers (originally The Guildford Stranglers) fronted by Hugh Cornwell's replacement, Paul Roberts. Interestingly, when Cornwell jumped ship Vanian was approached for the job but thank the grass that didn't happen, as it would've deprived The Damned of their finest asset.

The Stranglers give us a lot of attitude, abetted by a huge wall of percussive sound undercut with Dave Greenfield's hypnotic and driving Doors-influenced keyboards. Roberts is no Cornwell but he delivers a definitive list of house favourites including the strutting bassline shocker  'Peaches' and the quirky 60's, Donovanesque 'Golden Brown'. The classic 'No More Heroes', with its driving drums and keyboards, ends the performance to a thunderous reception, closing a seamless set that gets everyone in the mood for another old throw back, Blondie.

We approach Blondie with some serious doubts, like 'will Debbie Harry's face fall apart?' Fortunately it remains as tight as the band and at moments, dare we say it, she even looks GOOD, prowling the stage like an elegant fox and belting out all her early cuts. It's surprising how many of the songs are familiar for mere juniors like ourselves. The pop-punk of 'Hanging on the Telephone' - ooh, I can't control myself, 'Atomic' drops like a bomb, 'Call Me' is a call to arms for all the middle-aged festival fellas, and Debbie shows Atomic Kitten how it's done on 'The Tide Is High'. 'Heart of Glass' ends the set on a high note and we bow down to Blondie, but let's be clear here, despite all protestations, Debbie Harry IS Blondie.