The dreary weather was no match for the infectious upbeat spirit of 60,000 festival fans who gathered at Punchestown, Co Kildare, for the Oxegen music festival this weekend.
The revellers soaked up the music, as well as the rain, from a line-up of 98 artists which included BellX 1, The Scissor Sisters, The Strokes, Basement Jaxx, Ash, Muse and The Darkness.
Many concert-goers proved festival-fit, practically kitted out in macs and hoods, while green Wellingtons were this year's ubiquitous fashion accessory. Less-seasoned fans ended up paying €5 for flimsy blue and orange plastic overalls.
On Saturday Paddy Casey quickly dispelled the blues and got the crowd hopping to his chart-topping hit Saints and Sinners, but Saturday's real concert highlight was the energetic performance of New York band The Strokes.
"The man from the The Strokes was obviously off his head but they were brilliant," said Bryan O'Rourke (19), from Kildare.
However, the excitement proved too much for some, as a young man fell from the top of a three-tier human pyramid during their performance. He appeared to lose consciousness for about five minutes, and after a half-hour wait for a spinal board, the paramedics removed him by stretcher from the concert area.
According to Justin Green of MCD Productions, he sustained a concussion.
While it was a treat to see The Cure live, it would appear that 70 per cent of spectators were too young to know who lead singer Robert Smith was.
Crowds streamed out of the main stage area and chose between Massive Attack and The Chemical Brothers.
Ken Champagne (25) from Howth was disappointed with The Cure. "I felt that Robert Smith didn't interact with the crowd," he said.
Fans yesterday partied to the tunes of Faithless, Muse and the Black Eyed Peas, while Pink, who strutted her stuff on the prestigious main stage, and belted out hits such as Get the Party Started, proveda real crowd pleaser. The Darkness, with their exuberant performance, brought the festival to an exciting end, enhanced by the flamboyant antics of front man Justin Hawkins.
Apart from the unseasonable weather, there were a number of minor concert annoyances. Ken Rooney (28) from Cork said the cartoon maps distributed by concert organisers MCD were poorly laid out and didn't really give adequate directions to get from one place to the next.
While Dublin Bus services to and from Parnell Square proved a success, the shuttle bus service back to Naas finished at 8 p.m., leaving many concert-goers stranded.
Other concert die-hards complained of being ripped off. Will Hamilton (24) from Blessington said the food was expensive and not good quality, while Damien Foran (31) from Waterford said the timetables, which cost €10, should have been free.
While most of the 47,500 people staying at the biggest-ever festival campsite in Ireland knew what to expect from the accommodation, many felt conditions at the campsite were poor.
Ciara Hurley (20), from Blackrock, Cork, complained there were no bins. Elaine Gillespie (18), from Kildare, said the concert wasn't as much fun this year. "The weather has put a dampener on things."
The security for the festival, however, proved a success. "The crowd have been very well behaved and there have been only a small number of seizures for illegal substances," said Supt Tom Neville in Naas.
No time to draw breath with multiple musical choice
Take a deep breath. Although Oxegen has hovered in the atmosphere for long enough - and Witnness, its previous incarnation, really should have prepared us - yet again we're overwhelmed by choice. Decisions, decisions . . . Nothing sharpens the mind like a torrential downpour, however.
The shivering multitude, crackling with promotional plastic ponchos, may charge to the Green Room for its sheltering roof, but they stay for Bray's instrumental three-piece God is an Astronaut, whose white noise roars out with unexpected grace.
The weather is a more familiar tune. So dismal it might have been requested on The Cure's gig-rider, it's a greatest hits compilation of festivals past: dishwater skies, pestering drizzle, moments of struggling sunshine. An early ray of light breaks through with Dublin indie-poppers The Chalets, who mischievously dedicate Sexy Mistake to the "fatter Olsen twin", then writhe with the hiccuppy syncopation and confrontational lyrics of Theme From Chalets.
Welsh comedy rappers Goldie Lookin Chain goof around on the main stage, demonstrating their Wildean wit with Your Mother's Got a Penis. But the more discerning gender-bender lingers for the Scissor Sisters. From "the planet New York City", these disco-revivalists are blessed with the elastic dancing double-act of Jake Shears and Ana Matronic.
More camp than Oxegen's 47,500 tent-dwellers, Take Your Mama, Laura and Comfortably Numb defy the deluge with neon optimism. "We won't let it dampen our spirits!" shrieks Matronic.
White-hot Glaswegian art punks Franz Ferdinand deliver the first sing-along highlight of the festival in Take Me Out. Better still are Dark of the Matinee and the obsessive surge of Michael, catching the sexual ambiguity of the best pop in its paean to "beautiful boys on beautiful dance floors". Just as cheering is the sight of jocks grunting to the Green Room for the coursing fun of Electric Six's hit, Gay Bar.
A tense stand-off ensues between star hip-hoppers N.E.R.D., cooler-than-thou retro-rockers The Strokes and the last Irish gig ever for techno veterans, Orbital. But unable to make enough noise to satisfy N.E.R.D.'s clichéd demands and lacklustre posturing, it's the painstakingly effortless appeal of The Strokes that reaches the crowd, brightening up the night sky with Modern Age, NYC Cops and What Ever Happened? A real poignancy inflects Orbital's last number, carrying the sweet sadness of a vibrant retirement party.
Which just leaves The Cure, whose cheerless seniority seems to have guaranteed them headline status.
Trawling through their latest album, which critics have acclaimed as a return to competency, the gothfather Robert Smith's shunning of anything resembling a tune leaves Las Vegas The Cure-wannabes The Killers primed to annex some of their audience: cue the utterly fabulous New Wave mania of Somebody Told Me and Mr Brightside. Spying a freshly thrown gauntlet, Smith finally relents, and sails a few shimmering classics through the clear air of the night sky. That's it Bob, there's always a bright side. And day One of Oxegen subsides, contentedly, with a breath of fresh air. Peter Crawley