If anyone had any doubts about The Verve's suitability as a Slane headlining act, they only had to go down into the 80,000-strong crowd and feel the force firsthand. Every band has its moment - Oasis had theirs in 1996, when they played in front of a quarter-of-a-million people in Knebworth - and Lord Mount Charles was correct to choose the Wigan band just as they were seizing their day. Slane may well be the last time anyone sees The Verve onstage again, and the band performed in front of their biggest-ever crowd like condemned men determined to live every last moment to the full.
The Verve were performing without musical lynchpin, guitarist Nick McCabe, but still they managed to swing the night to their favour, making up in passion what they lacked in personnel. "I'm not good at communicating in words, but my love goes out to you," singer Richard Ashcroft told the crowd; the next song was, appropriately enough, See You In The Next One.
The Best Slane Festival In The World . . . Ever! began with a beam of sunlight, and ended with a spark of fireworks. In between, six of the best British acts around performed for a sold-out crowd, and though The Seahorses and Finley Quaye were little more than background music, and The Manic Street Preachers fell short of transcendent, the overall impression was of a big day out which just about managed to lived up to its hype.
Irish band Junkster opened the gig, followed by Manchester band James, enjoying a slight return thanks to their tongue-in-cheek take on the music industry, Destiny Calling. The Seahorses sound stronger than before, and songs like What Can You See and 700 Horses sees singer Chris Helme displaying enough vocal agility to keep up with virtuoso guitarist Chris Squire. Robbie Williams has been keeping laddism alive in the absence of Oasis, and as he bounded onstage in his suit and dickie bow, he turned this rock `n' roll festival into a cabaret carnival. Let Me Entertain You made no bones about it - this was showbiz, and Williams was your grinning, mischievous compere for the next half-an-hour. Addressing the crowd as "ladies and gentlemen" and referring to his set as a "show", Williams pulled out all the stops to present himself as a rock `n' roll rebel who's not afraid to make a dickie bow of himself.
Let Me Entertain You is Williams's theme tune, a pastiche of Andrew Lloyd Webber and The Rocky Horror Show, while Back For Good sees the Take That hit being ripped apart by the spirit of Sid Vicious. Cover versions of The La's There She Goes, and a refrain of the Beatles' Hey Jude expose Williams as a bit of a pop magpie, but Angels and Old Before I Die prove that he has the talent to deliver a stunning pop ballad and a smart-ass rock anthem with equal aplomb. The new single, Millennium, uses a sample from James Bond's You Only Live Twice - judging from Williams's swaggering, sure-footed performance, this cat has a few lives left in him.
If you couldn't tolerate Robbie Williams, then The Manic Street Preachers were next, and the Welsh trio bounded into the wide, musical expanses of Australia, re-establishing the rock `n' roll mood with sharp, chopping guitars and thundering, stomping rhythms. From Despair To Where was followed by the new single, If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next, and the adolescents sang along as though it were already a classic anthem.
As dusk descended, it was left to Richard Ashcroft and The Verve to make one final effort at elevation, and Sonnet got the beanie-hatted hordes setting fire to their Coke cups and holding them aloft like torches. As Weeping Willow wafted across the Boyne Valley, it became apparent that guitarist Nick McCabe's absence had merely shifted the balance of sound, but didn't topple The Verve altogether. Second guitarist Simon Tong worked his fretboard like a trojan, and pedal steel player B.J. Cole slid some achingly superb lines into The Drugs Don't Work. Richard Ashcroft's raised himself to his full stature, like David facing Goliath, dragging out every last ounce of energy and emotion for what may well be his final rock `n' roll battle.
Lucky Man showed no regrets, while History looked to the future with lines like "I've got a skinful of dope/ I've got a skinful of hope". Velvet Morning and Come On were defiant bursts of belligerent optimism, and See You In The Next One was a valedictory reminder that, though one door may be closing, another one will surely open. There was only one song left to play, and Ashcroft sang it with all his heart and soul, letting the melody shine in the clear Slane night. Bitter Sweet Symphony was nothing short of transcendent, the crowning glory and the final fanfare for the common fan. If The Verve really do fizzle out after this, at least they burned brightly and blindingly right to the end.
