"SUNSHINE and showers, some heavy at times. Expect the odd rumble of thunder across the region at any time". This was the weather-girl's call for us to expect the worst for this year's Cambridge festival. Like many, I'd seen (and sworn at) the poor girl, resigned to pack the waterproofs, and planned to pick my camping spot early on Thursday to avoid the first of the rain-clouds.
Images
of Glastonbury and poor kids up to their knees in mud were the
nightmares of Wednesday. By mid-day on the first day, I was humming
"summer in the city" and slapping on the sun-cream.
I felt like I was taking part in some crazy manipulation of fate,
as the first act of the festival, Suntrap came on stage to reaffirm
that the rain would stay where it doubtless belongs - in Wales.
It had to be divine planning that the acoustic trio were to be seen throughout the weekend, spreading their good vibes on the festival. Their beginner to the festivities was something to savour. Paul Hoad's strong vocal performance did not waiver, Sara Byers and Mary Wilson's voices in harmony were a perfect opener.
Festival
stalwart, Peter Buckley Hill played to a warmed crowd later in
the afternoon. As he took many requests from them, it felt almost
like I was eavesdropping on a family reunion - Cambridge reunited
with their hero. After his performance, I am now counting myself
truly among the worshippers. If you don't own a Buckley Hill CD,
then you'll find yourself wishing you could remember some of the
stories and songs that he captivates his audience with. It is
impossible to hate this man as he sings out the lyrics to "Ground
Control to Major Fred". Not quite Lennon, Peter, but you're
a legend in your own club tent nonetheless.
The
trend is for more well-known artists to be booked each year for
the official Thursday sessions. This day continues to be a blend
between this, and a showcase day for new bands breaking into the
festival scene. A tradition I hope will continue.
As the night progressed, I found myself pondering why I
have never been able to work out whether I was an Eddi Reader
fan. I'm sure I'm not alone. Having only seen her perform at festivals,
I'm sure there's a side to her that I just don't "get"
amongst a large crowd. She, with Boo Hewerdine, write and perform
some fabulous and evocative songs, and she gives off such a massive
stage presence. If nothing else, her Cambridge performance has
made me vow to go out and find her complete, true act. I know
there is something more to Eddi, which I will probably find back
in the folk clubs or low-lit pub gig in Scotland.
