Pension lawyer meets world: V Festival 2014 Day Two

I have generally been lucky with the weather at V. Just mistimed getting in today. A short sharp shower got me just a s I arrived on site, and although I had intended to spend most of the day in the comedy tent, I couldn't get in initially because of these folk sheltering from the cloudburst.

But soon enough I got through. Now the comedy tent at a festival tends to be a bit less-rehearsed than seeing a comic on tour. It can go a bit free form. As this day proved.

First up that I saw was a scouser called Steve Gribbin. You won't have heard of him. And you won't again I suspect. Kind of relied on being "chipper scouser", as so many scouse comics do. I always worry when a comic comes on with a guitar. Musical comedy can be very funny when done well, but its difficult to do well. His songs were just a couple of rhyming lines to some news topic. Tired old targets, Tories, Americans, posh people, Justin Bieber. (Although he did one I liked about Justin, describing him as singing like a squirrel being fingered. That wasn't the neat bit - it was his follow up. "Don't ask me how I know what a squirrel being fingered sounds like.... A man has to have a hobby.")

Next up was Matt Read, an act I have seen at my local comedy club before. Geordie comics are always more appealing than chippie scousers. More down to earth, less of a grudge against the world. His slow delivery and strong material marks him out. I look forward to seeing him do a full set of, say, an hour's material sometime. His near the knuckle material wasn't toned down by the fact there was a bloke right at the front with his 10 year old. As he started a joke about chlamydia he leaned down to the 10 year old and said "Its alright, your dad will explain all about that on your way home."

It was very good if very adult stuff - really high quality if bad taste material. He explained that he used to be a teacher in Middlesbrough, although education in Middlesbrough was a limited concept. "She's your sister. No."

Did a neat routine on NightRider, the old David Hasselhoff show in which he drove around in a Pontiac car which had a computer who in calm posh tones would say things like, "Michael, missile coming from the left in 200 metres". "Lucky that programme wasn't made in Sunderland or it would have been a Nissan Micra and it would have said things like "Oh no-o-o. A hill."

Next up was Irish comic Keith Farnham. Nice confident patter. No knockout material but perfectly ok.

Then Adam Hills. Who is a big star now and the tent was totally crammed with more people watching on a screen outside. This was one of the standout performances of the whole weekend, and almost totally unscripted.

It really went off piste, as he engaged a big bloke in the front who turned out, of all things to be a florist. This led to him setting up an impromptu sketch with this chap as some East End hard man called the Florist in that cockney gangster accent trying to save two girls from a nutter. He found two suitable girls and a brilliantly drunk Ulsterman out of the audience to play this out, and as long as Adam Hills does stand up he may never just get a better set of characters out of an audience. It was all just hilarious. An example is he tried in a film trailer voice over accent to introduce the two girls as two innocent virgins, to which one shook her head. "Oh, wrong okay then, two young slags. No? Somewhere in between? Two young girls who had done it once or twice but not enjoyed it much." Honestly you had to be there.

Adam Hills with the Florist

The full cast

It ended up with him sending his artificial leg out into the audience to "crowd-surf" It came back with a can of beer in it, as you can see below. It was that sort of show.

I was in the tent only because there really weren't any music acts on the Sunday that appealed. An exception was Chic. So I ventured out into what was now sunshine to take Chic in from the back of the main stage crowd.

Once an indoor disco band they have managed to morph into a perfect fun festival band. Definitely catch them if they come to a festival near you. Of course it helps if you have written a zillion great songs, from "Freak Out" to Daft Punk's "Get Lucky". Did David Bowie's "Let's Dance" too.

Back into the comedy tent I caught some of young Matt Richardson's routine. Now this young man is good, not least at telling young man's material. Its not safe stuff, but it appealed to the audience. His dad in disgust at something he did said "Son, the best part of you dribbled down your mother's leg." "How would you know", his mother interjected, "You weren't even there."

Andrew Maxwell I had seen recently doing a full show at the Soho Theatre. I recognised some of the material from that. Suffice to say he is a confident and skilled Irish comic and well worth checking out.

In stark contrast to the next act, Pat Cahill. He died on his arse. A car crash act. Another music act - he had a tape machine and did little rap songs. It was awful. But I was sat right in front of him, so felt too embarrassed to walk out, although from my peripheral vision I could see the tent emptying from either side. A career change needed for this chap.

Phil Nicol was next on and tried to rescue the mood. A Canadian, he went for the bluster approach. Another man with a guitar but rather better. He used to be a member of Corky & the Juice Pigs and went out with his song "The only gay eskimo." Funny but not fantastic.

Last act I saw was an American comic called Peter White. A slow delivery, looked, as he said, like a fat Jon Cusack. Would happily see him again, even if nothing stood out.

Blinking I went out into the daylight to catch the last 3 acts on the main stage. First up was Lily Allen in an 80s style silvery cat suit on a set which unaccountably featured large milk bottles. I can't say I understand the attraction of Ms Allen. Her best songs are cover versions (notably Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know"), and she hasn't bettered her first hit, Smile. Or Smi-i-i-i-ile. Which she went out on.

Paolo Nutini was the last support. Not really my cup of tea, but my enjoyment was further impaired by a hideously drunk young girl near me singing a long wildly out of tune and then bellowing things like "I love you Paolo" or "My Italian Stallion." To be fair, the man has a great voice and no doubt matinee idol looks. The performance was good, but I am pretty sure the bloke was drunk.

Which left the only music act I really wanted to see, the headliners, the Killers. They have never disappointed in the past and tonight was no exception. Brandon Flowers is a very different front man to say Guy Garvey of Elbow. Its not repartee with the audience that marks him out, but his energy bouncing arounds the stage.

The Killers do of course have a lot of brilliant songs behind them. But they also do the odd cobver version to mix things up and there were a few tonight, including Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl and Bad Moon Rising by Creedance Clearwater Revival - neither exactly obvious choices.