Glastonbury媒体评论

很喜欢Guardian和The Observer的两篇评论,先摘在这里,有空了翻译.很明显radiohead被批了,因为的确king of limbs这张专辑就不大受欢迎(参考NME的恶评),而他们演了很多这张专辑的歌,没有演hits,被认为是很不friendly. 还扯上了去年Gorillaz那失败的headlining set. 总之Guardian这篇把radiohead说得实在太不堪了,没听到hits的歌迷伤不起啊…但是hits唱太多了也不行! Coldplay把一辈子的主打歌都拿出来唱了,也被评论说得一般般,远没有elbow评价高,’你要多么铁石心肠才不会被elbow感动’.Beyonce被大赞,热切同意,’她甚至有勇气一开场就把最热的两首歌演掉了’,霸气!

Guardian: The Glastonbury festival showed it’s a place where anything can happen

At Glastonbury 2011 Radiohead ignored their hits and paid the price, U2 worked hard but couldn’t connect, Elbow made a triumphant return and Coldplay judged the temperature just right.

… But even if you’re trying to concentrate on the music, the weather’s impossible to avoid, largely because it changes the way audiences react to what’s happening onstage. By Friday afternoon, Glastonbury’s usual we’re-just-glad-to-be-here atmosphere of blithe acceptance has evaporated, replaced by a kind of grim fatalism: the crowd’s mood is more difficult to judge, artists have to work infinitely harder to win them over. It’s tough on the Vaccines, who have decent tunes to spare but not a vast amount in the way of charisma. “Who gives a fuck if it’s raining?” offers frontman Justin Young, or at least words to that effect. There’s a rather wan cheer in response, a sound that seems to say: well, we do mate, largely because, unlike you, we won’t be getting on a luxury tourbus and leaving in about an hour.

…This year, aside from one doughty soul who insists that Friday night’s unbilled performer is going to be Lionel Ritchie, everyone seems to know in advance that they’re bringing the rest of Radiohead with them. The crowd that elects to trudge up the vast slippery gradient to The Park area is vast enough to not only fill the area in front of the stage, but the hill that overlooks it. Back at the Pyramid stage, Morrissey is left belting out Smiths songs to a sparse audience – although it starts getting noticeably less sparse when it becomes apparent that Radiohead intend to play a set almost entirely drawn from the recent King of Limbs, an album that received a pretty lukewarm reception, at least by their standards. In fairness, you could argue that expecting Radiohead to start pandering to the wishes of a mass audience is a bit like expecting Radiohead to come onstage and perform a cover of Baggy Trousers while Thom Yorke flies around the stage on wires: on one level it’s a strangely appealing idea, but it’s never going to happen.

If you believe that you can tell how well a Glastonbury set is going by how easily the audience has its attention drawn from the performer by the panoply of other sights on offer – during Gorillaz’s lacklustre headline appearance last year, a large section of the audience was distracted by the diverting sight of a man climbing a wooden structure stage left and exposing his genitals – you might note the fact that about three songs in, the hill keeps exploding into random applause. Alas, they’re not cheering Radiohead’s boundless determination to look forward, to be unswayed by the demands of those less musically adventurous than them, but the sight of people who’ve decided to leave and realised too late that if you get too much momentum behind you when walking down a muddy hill, it’s literally impossible to stop until you fall over, and sometimes not even then. It’s like a cross between You’ve Been Framed! and It’s A Knockout up there, albeit with an incongruously gloomy soundtrack.

Tonight’s secret guests on The Park stage are even less secret than Radiohead: the Sun has already informed the world that it’s Pulp. The crowd is even bigger than the preceding night’s, the atmosphere utterly different. As with the re-formed Blur’s set two years ago, it’s not merely celebratory, but marked with the lovely feeling of restitution, as if the crowd is trying to apologise on behalf of the British public. As Jarvis Cocker noted at the time, one of the reasons Pulp split up was that “nobody was that arsed” about their records any more. They seem very arsed indeed tonight: the set is a reminder both of what an engaging frontman Cocker is, and of how many fantastic songs they had, overshadowed in the collective memory by Common People: Razzmatazz, Something Changed…

It’s a triumphant return, as is the appearance of Elbow on the Pyramid stage, three years on from the televised performance that belatedly catapulted them to mainstream fame. The line about them being The People’s Band is both a cliche and a bit daft, suggesting as it does that every other band’s fanbase largely comprises hamsters or chickens, but you see immediately why it’s come about: the warmth radiates irresistibly from the stage, the sense of their performance as a kind of dialogue between artist and audience impossible to avoid. The crowd adore Guy Garvey: every time he smiles, which he does a lot, in the manner of a man who can’t quite believe his luck, they go berserk. They encourage him to down a pint, he gets them to sing Happy Birthday to the band, formed, he claims, 20 years ago to the day. The elusive Glastonbury moment of collective transcendence doesn’t just happen, it keeps happening, over and over again: a majestic, charged version of Open Arms, the beautiful drift of Weather To Fly. There’s something inevitable about the finale of One Day Like This, but what you can’t prepare for is the sheer emotional force of the audience’s reaction, which knocks you sideways: you’d have to be a pretty flinty character to remain unmoved. Certainly flintier than Garvey, who understandably looks close to tears as he leaves the stage.

The feeling that it’s a performance that’s going to be hard for Coldplay to top is hard to avoid, and in a sense they don’t: you certainly don’t feel the kind of intense emotional connection that ran through Elbow‘s set, nor do you get the visceral power emanating from the Other Stage, where the Chemical Brothers, never the most opaque band, sound particularly cataclysmic and thrilling. What you do get is the feeling that Coldplay are a band who know exactly how to headline Glastonbury, having had a lot of practice at it: front load the show with hits, place the handful of new songs in such a way that the audience barely notice them – with the best will in the world, the fact that they’re not terribly memorable probably helps – and get them singing along. Whatever you think of their music, you’d have a hard time arguing that it doesn’t work in this situation, and it’s impossible not to be impressed by how assured their performance is…

The Observer: Festival watch – Glastonbury 2011

Beyoncé easily eclipses fellow headliners U2 and Coldplay

…Radiohead struggled to make a set drawn largely from their difficult King of Limbs album connect with the crowd. Pulp triumphed from sheer force of personality. Well, that and a load of goodwill – even those who had decamped right back to the Stone Circle were singing along to the bespectacled speck in the distance.

One woman single-handedly saved the main stage: Beyoncé‘s set created fireworks, not just because she had actual fireworks going off every five seconds, but because she dared to detonate her two biggest hits first and didn’t let things deflate thereafter. She also made an Alanis Morissette cover seem not entirely like the worst thing in the world.

It was a lesson in big performance to the other two headliners, who performed fine if not career-defining slots. It says something about U2‘s bombast that they can get an astronaut in to sing backing vocals on “Beautiful Day” and still have people feeling let down by the stage show – but their set did fall slightly short of expectations and not just because of the drizzle. Coldplay brought a bit more spark but were let down by the fact they were, well, Coldplay. It just didn’t seem essential to catch a band who had already headlined the festival twice in the past decade.

Elsewhere, Janelle Monáe wowed West Holts, Elbow reduced grown men to tears (again), Patrick Wolf apologised for his chaotic 2007 appearance with a charming show and Paul Simon unveiled the hits in a lacklustre manner. On balance, a great year, though nobody will begrudge Glastonbury their break until 2013, when no doubt Prince, Paul McCartney and Madonna will form a supergroup for a secret show in the John Peel tent. Or something.

我发誓这是交论文前最后一次再在网上乱看G节的东西…..

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