Saturday 04/08/07 Tales of the Jackalope Festival, Kimberley Hall, Norwich

All festivals suffer line-up casualties, but it's rare that a headline act, a proper big pull, a real pant-wetting prospect pulls out. So there are a lot of glum faces splattered around TOTJ when the word that ESG have "had problems with their flight" (lame excuse, get another one?) and wont be turning up. It's an effing good job that there are plenty of other delights on today's line-up to get Norwich's fun hungry faithful nice and messy, and with it’s reputation as quite the showcase for talent for the year to come, TOTJ promises to be quite the banger this year! On the Main Stage, Florence and the Machine (joined by former Test Icicle Dev Hynes) get things cracking, with a relaxed set of wailing and upbeat acoustic guitars, topped off with the atmospheric 'Girl With One Eye', and a tidy/unexpected cover of Green Day's 'Hitching a Ride'. A quick jaunt over to the Other Stage sees Florence and Dev joined by friends to perform as Lightspeed Champion: the sound is very different, with a full band as backing including a brilliantly countrified violin backed with some limp beats. Dev and Florence's harmonised vocals on tunes such as 'Galaxy of the Lost' are strong but delicate; another cover, this time Weezer's 'Buddy Holly' is again unexpectedly welcome, and it looks like the band have as much playing it as the crowd do listening.

Stumbling around the tiny festival site (early evening, sunshine boozing doing it's trick) we’re drawn to the distant fuzz of a over-distorted metal riff … time to turn things up a gear and get our rocks right off with Bristolians Turbowolf. As the name suggests, these lads are no airy fairy acoustic tripe. "Let's do it like it's 1963" wails the lead singer, which sounds like good fun, so we do. Slamming metal infused guitars into ravey synths makes for a lock-shaking, ass-wiggling set, with tunes such as the rucked-up 'Do Me Wrong' pulling waves of sun-worshipping revellers off of the grass and into the tent. From underneath his monumental moustache, the lead singer introduces the set closer 'Humanoid' as "a song about the death of ... well, everyone". If this is what the apocalypse feels like, bring it the fuck on! A deliciously kick-ass disco/metal treat.

Things start to get really demented as dusk falls, and after a quick, grimey DJ set from ragga selecta Prance Hall, and a bit more vodka, it’s time to get our spot for Late of the Pier. Sporting matching outfits, the Nottingham four-piece wobble their way through half-hour of dancey, crowd-friendly bangers. To look, and to listen to they are slightly reminiscent of a youthful Whirlwind Heat, with their colour coordinated attire and offkey, bassy beats. A confident bunch of trendy wanksters, they themselves accept that they are trying to be "too big for their own tiny cocks" by playing a new song that "isn't even finished yet". Cockybabyfacedubertrendytwunts they may be, but even their unfinished new numbers smash the crowd right in the chops and leave them needing a good sit down.

When it comes to interesting outfits, however, you can't beat a couple of stickers. Over your nipples. And a pair of pants. That's it. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Comanechi. From behind her drumkit, in the aforementioned 'outfit' Akiko smacks seven shades of shit out of anything to hand as Simon stands legs apart in such a classic axe-wielding pose he might as well have a wire hanging out his arse, and been dragged straight out of Guitarhero off of the playstation (he even executes one of the best onstage tantrums seen for a while, throwing his guitar into another bands readyandwaiting drumkit - good lad). It's a pleasure to see two people make such a fucking massive noise; riotous drums and blood curdling grinding guitar makes for a slap-in-the-face of a sound which drags in gobsmacked crowds from all around - admittedly, gobs might just be open as a myriad of blokes perve over the obvious, but anyone who managed to get past this novelty will have witnessed one of the hottest shows of the day. "Rubbish" shouts one clearly deaf idiot from the back of the tent. "You fuck off, you buy a fucking donkey" responds Akiko, as the band quite aptly fly into 'Death of You', whose lyrics ("You suck big cock" and "You're a fucking retard") send the heckler right back to his rug.  

Bad organisation means that it's a toss up between a selection of headliners, but there is still a chance to catch half of synth-rock masters Shy Child's set, most notable for 'Drop the Phone' which sees the first true heaving crowd of the day going totally apeshit. Pete wields his keytar with dexterity, while Nate rocks right out on his skins. Lovely stuff. In fact, if it weren't The Fall playing the other stage, it'd be impossible to drag oneself away from these New Yorkers, but Mark E Smith awaits!