“I feel old”, my fellow festival goer mutters to me. “Or maybe young. I think it’s in-between actually.” He was not experiencing some kind of hyper-speed Benjamin-Button-like hallucination, but was referring to the extraordinary number of pram-plus-child-combo accessorised stroller mums and dads on the Festival site, seemingly outnumbering the rest of the punters by many-fold. 

Situated on Blackheath (which for those not in the know, is so called due to its history as a burial site for Black Death victims, but is actually extremely pleasant nowadays…how times change), OnBlackheath promised more chances of getting knocked into by a full-pelt five year old than a stumbling inebriated 25 year old.

And that’s certainly what OnBlackheath does best – family-friendly-fun with a sprinkling of John Lewis sponsorship and a good dollop of celebrity chef demonstrations (featuring the culinary geniuses behind establishments like Duck and Waffle and Cerviche, and perhaps more surprisingly, the Le Cordon Bleu trained Kelis. Yes, Kelis. Yes, the one who sung something about milkshakes bringing all the boys to the yard.

What that meant was there was space (lots of it) at the main stage, with the inhabitants of the prams and their big folk enjoying the myriad of child friendly activities in one corner of the site. We practically marched up to the very front of the enclosure to see Anna Calvi’s extraordinary set. I’ve rarely seen guitar playing quite like it – drawing an unbelievable range of noises, from thumps and screeches to soaring melodies, out of her instrument. And it’s hard to believe that she only picked up singing as an adult – she’s equally virtuosic at that bit of her job. It isn’t crowd pleasing, but it sure is enthralling if you listen hard enough.

From one guitar hero to another – James Dean Bradfield’s guitar playing was equally impressive, but in a more conventional way. The veteran rocker’s Saturday set, in which he reveled in the opportunity to drop the maximum number of f-bombs in front of the tenderest-aged audience I think he will ever play to…‘Rock and Roll’, was musically satisfying enough – Mr Bradfield’s voice (once warmed up) evidently still boasting much of the versatility and range as 10 years ago, but many of the tracks felt just a little bit dated.

After an obligatory Pieminster dinner, where the previously extremely manageable queues had shot up by epic proportions (clearly seven-year olds will not move their dinner time in order to beat the rush), on came Elbow, Guy Garvey with the obligatory pint in hand. Make that pints. Soaring nostalgia and dad-friendly regret was the order of the day; drinking the theme. It was beautiful and more than just a little bit sad to see.

Sunday is more fez-attired affair than Saturday – Madness was clearly a big draw and a lot of the DJing and supporting acts are drawn from the world of reggae, two tone and ska. Replete with their irrepressible energy and that very British glint in their eyes (well, I assume so – I couldn’t see through their sunglasses), Suggs and the rest of the band closed the Festival out in style.

Review: Tom Philpott Photos: courtesy of On Blackheath