On top at T: Muse were Friday headliners Pic: © Drew Farrell
And so, the finale to Friday’s festivities, where it seems that Black Eyed Peas have lured pretty much everyone with an IQ of under 60 over to the Radio 1/NME Stage. Not that I’m saying you have to be stupid to like them - hey, I love My Humps just as much as you do. Maybe even a bit more! But a far more tantalising proposition lies ahead on the Main Stage...
Though famed for an extravagant approach, Muse emerge with little aplomb and take their place on a relatively low-key stage set, opening with a pulsating Uprising - the first song off 2009’s The Resistance - its swing beat and teasing vocals lending the song an air of cabaret. Swiftly followed by the slinking Supermassive Black Hole and some crooned falsetto verses, it’s as sultry an opening gambit as you're likely to hear all weekend, and is also as gloriously huge as you could possibly hope for. It seems that on this occasion they're content to let the music do the talking.
Though last year’s album may have been their most immediately accessible collection of songs yet - perhaps with one eye on that tough-to-crack American market - at times like this there should always be at least a moment taken to appreciate the sight of Muse commanding such a vast audience with their headlining set, for they always seemed several steps away from the mainstream-embracing likes of peers such as Coldplay and Snow Patrol.
Instead they sideswiped listeners with the likes of the knowingly arch, utterly inspired lunacy of New Born, which inspires what will surely be the weekend's main mass participation head-banging session. (Well, hopefully so, as my neck wouldn't be able to take much more.) Indeed, that came from an album so distinctly non-commercial that their US record label refused to have anything to do with it.
Going firmly against the grain, they succeeded mainly by virtue of simply being a brilliant live proposition, as they undoubtedly are tonight. Not content to give note-perfect renditions of their hits, they instead regularly segue seamlessly into fizzling instrumental riff-tastic breakdowns when and as they choose, then ploughing straight into tunes such as the pounding Hysteria, which blessed with the sort of chorus that's been hewn out of granite by the Greek Gods themselves, and leads to what will surely be the weekend’s biggest head-banging fitness session. (Let’s hope so, as I don’t think my neck can take much more.)
Standing stage centre is Matt Bellamy, guitar and piano virtuoso, as well as master of the sort of vocal histrionics that makes Freddie Mercury seem like Leonard Cohen by comparison. Also key to proceedings is the rock-solid rhythm section that allows for the frontman's unhinged escapades, a bounding Unnatural Selection showcasing Dom Howard's pounding and precise drumming and Chris Wolstenhouse's dependably reliably and yet subtly inventive bass prowess.
FESTIVAL PHOTO GALLERY
Strangely enough Muse seem to have nicked TV quiz show Blockbuster's hexagonal-heavy game board to adorn the back wall, its pixellated cells showing images from around the globe as Bellamy settles down to his grand piano for the absurdly grandiose United States of Eurasia. (Which comes across like a Bond theme where 007 is tasked with halting the apocalypse.) That song's obvious nod to a certain set of 70s rock giants casts the mind back to a previous injustice at T in the Park.
Back in 2004 The Darkness headlined T in the Park, the grim mock-rockers ludicrously hailed as inheritors to Queen's crown during their short stay in the wider public’s affections, while Muse were relegated to the second stage. Not that it mattered of course, as the rightful successors delivered a jaw-dropping set that year while Justin Hawkins and co floundered by comparison.
Perhaps for that reason they’ve always seemed unwilling to rest on their laurels. Rather than merely aping any predecessors, Muse have always been able to challenge themselves as well as the audience, as is shown through the robotic R&B strut of Undisclosed Desires. Its inclusion is all the more noticeable after the finger-tapping metal fury of Stockholm Syndrome, which brings main set to a close.
Not that they’re quite done there, of course, and they return for a fully charged Plug In Baby and the jaw-dropping Morricone-being-assimilated-by-a-Cyberman odyssey that is Knights of Cydonia. (Which actually bettered Hysteria’s head-banging session, dammit. I’ll try not to speak so soon next time.) Now simply one of the biggest and best bands of their generation, from the sounds of things you’d half expect Muse to blast off in their own space rocket in search of other universes to conquer. In that case, it’d only be right to thank them for such sterling efforts, and let them be done here, for on tonight’s evidence they have nothing left to prove.
