Thursday 22/06/06 Day 2 @ Wireless Festival, Hyde Park, London

Quite unlike the reported madness of the first day, day two of Wireless is not exactly a buzz with thoughts like OhMyGodWhatWillTheStrokesAndAllThoseOtherAmazingBands - breath - BeLike. Thursday’s start is very chilled (not busy). Programmes cost £7 outside so loners buy them as a means of company and meeting new friends.

Micah P Hinson breaks beautifully into the fourth hour of the afternoon. The nerd – if appearances are anything to go by but God forbid we go by those - that is he only seems to know a few sentences that hang him in his thoughts. "Thoughts", he lets us know (several times), "are all I’ve got to hang myself with". This collective of similar emotions, suit him and his band’s sound just fine. Harmonica and voice are atmospheric, crazy, muted even; and the songs build up aside guitars and his suicidal tendencies. He utters, then splutters "Don’t forget about me (darling!)’ in 'Don’t You' so many times that we certainly can not (darling!), and just why would we want to? The notably shortest song, at four and a half minutes, comes last. It seems shorter though due to the excellence of its lengthier predecessors. Being backed up on stage with an audience, even one as undernourished as this, surely brings Micah and his previous life of hell (out of jail and homeless at the age of nineteen) out of its shell.

Speaking of lengthy songs (and meagre connections) there aren’t many that can compete with the Two Gallants. Songs at an average of eight minutes, and drum beats at an average of? Very fast. 'Las Crucas Jail' starts the set off full of energy. Drummer Tyson Vogel literally bounces through ‘Two Days Short Tomorrow’, so much in fact that assistance is required to put him and his set back together again. From then on the pieces keep falling down bit by bit due to the fact they’ve put a manic drummer on what appears to be as sterdy ground as a trampoline on jell-oh bad idea? Poor Tyson has to constantly pick up his microphone to scream in it before beating it down again.

Singer (etc) Adam Stephens seems angered in general, but still gives as good as the Devil gets and treats delights such as ‘Steady Rollin’ to intro "running in the buggy, get the baby some beer". Cracking treats ‘Nothing to you’, ‘Long Summer Day’, and ‘My Baby Gone’ to end. This man who left his lumberjack back home tonight broke the line "my baby is gone" so high and croaky dry some times before turning to scream it out so ****ing  loud, that our hearts all ballooned before he quite burst them all over the newly bloodied place.

They deserved a later set and a sterdier stage. Adam told this reviewer; ‘I would rather have my eyeballs shaved by a leper than play this festival again.’ Deeming redundant the question of their returning next year…

This tent seems to be the one tonight. Festivalwise pops in to witness the man with the purple trousers and dotted shirt, otherwise known as Robyn Hitchcock and the minus 3, sway and saunter a bit. Eyes hurt, legs switch to walk outside where the sun is bright but less intense. And stroll back again for John Cale doing some Velvet Underground, ‘Venus and Furs’. Nearly seven and either the people - we know, we know, day jobs, home to shower, or the sensible eat before they drinkers - have been elsewhere, or they’re finally ready for some festival action. That’s right; the tent is finally filling up.