The Incredible String Band played in direct competition with the FA cup Final, screened  to an audience in one tent , the RCA caravan and at the local working mens club.

       Its been said time and time before that the Incredibles are ideal festival fodder. Old Chris Welchy reckoned he sensed a flavour of wood about their material. while others would have plumbed for moss, or perhaps hedgerows . 

Whatever the flavour , Robin Williamson and man of many moods , Mike Heron , spun music of great whimsy. great beauty at times and forever a sense of old England ( even though they are both Scottish ). May dances and all those things so unique to the band. 

       It was half way through their set that Donovan arrived and a very smart looking Donovan too. He stood with his lady while the Incredibles fiddled and smacked Tambourines and drums. The land directly below the stage was totally awash because a tank- filed with 5000 gallons of water for a death dive- burst its seams. Splash. 

           A couple of wacky encores from the Incredibles and Andy  harmless and very nice , Dunkely was back at his turntables . He played records day and night , was fed on cheese rolls and D and just kept  playing . Admirable . 

   Donovan , in a blue velvety suit with black waist band , was the afternoon's star. Roadies rigged up some weird magic carpet on stage. Donovan casually walked over  to sit cross legged and played a tremendous set. 
    He kicked off with Catch the Wind  which just about everybody was and carried on with a complete nostalgia trip. Former Beatles press captain Derek Taylor, operating in strange circles and with tinted bee -bops summed it all up by saying ,
I Love the music of the sixties.

   Donovan was beautiful;. Jennifer JuniperÌ Hurdy Gurdy Man  and superb el-ec-trical banana's bought a near tear to many an eye. You finally realized that despite it all , Donovan did write some mighty lovely stuff and there it was in the heart of 1972 and just as relevant. 
 

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    Above all he knew exactly what he was doing . He was possibly  the most together act of the entire festival . There was a sense of neatness, a sense of old time professionalism about him. 

    His delivery ,his sheer approach was perfect . And everyone just loved him. Between the oldies but goodies  he slipped in new songs which were indeed good. The change was there to be heard- the new ones being not quite so musical , the strength lying more in the lyrics - Ordinary family Ï- for instance , which contained some absurdly working class lines like  make sure you're wearing clean underwear - just in case you're in an accident. 

     There were those about who didn't dig Don. and took those lines with sniggers , but it was they who who were doing the kidding. 

      Universal soldier could have been played anytime during the past seven years , meaning no more and no less than its first appearance. The wind started to blow wild, but Donovan remained unruffled with a head full of song and a mouth full of words. 

    Another new song led off with  we don't want to see your teeth Mr Heath  and the whole field  was laughing and yes ,Donovan had come right back and won and there was a big sparkly smile on his lips and in his eyes. 

     Then he stopped playing , bowed a little , put A  pair of white clogs on and went back to his lady . There were thousands begging for  an encore , but Don just chatted to his friend and then walked quietly and casually  from the stage. 

   Clowns followed on a side stage and nobody really took much notice 

     Bickershaw by night was a strange spectacle. The floodlights shone only a little brighter than those in the nearby colliery, but camp fires were  blazing seemingly every three yards or so and the whole air was filled with a buzz. When you can't really see where the buzz is coming from it becomes weird. Roger Chapman was lurking around backstage , rubbing his hands together , chatting with Gourvish. Family - confronting the rumours that they're a finished band. They got rid of those nasties that night. 

    They took their set by full storm, playing with such fire and enthusiasm that Poly Palmer twice crashed his hands into the side of a piano. Chapman bust his mike stand half way through the first number , stalked right round the stage and due to the lack of a roadie had to put the thing back together himself. 

Linda Lewis.

Sound devils were really doing their best to bug the band  -Chapman having no idea of what he was sounding like at all, but they steamed into the Weavers Answer  like  a bunch of wolves -Whitney in particular who threw out some heaving chewing  guitar that was taken up by John Whetton , filled out by Palmer and thrown about ten miles out by the crazed Chapman.

     Then its boogie at a hectic rate. 

      It crashes it storms and dips about - the television camera on stage transmits Chapmans contorted face onto a large screen to the right.. The music pumps on and changes from boogie to good old rock and roll. Its along while since I've seen the band play with such hot lead in their veins.

    A break and Chappo talks to the darkness. Yer what , he shouts . A hundred voices shout back at him . He laughs like some evil blighter back at them  and shouts out  COOKIES  and then laughs again . 

    They cooled it right down then for some new stuff. Calm at first and then building up into a lot of rollock and rock. For those who've always dug Family it was heart warming t to see them fighting every bit of the way.

      No they ain't lazy, they blew a volcano that night and even then they weren't pleased about it. 

.Must have been a million watts out there tonight and I can't hear a bloody word I'm singing, 
says Chappo, shaking his head and blagging a fag backstage. 

    The wind blows in from the field with an almighty strong smell of dope. 

      Ray Davis appeared in white suit and dicky and camped about in fabulous fashion .Music ranged from The Banana Boat Song ,Hootchie Cootchie Man to Bobby Darin's Baby Face, interrupted briefly by a beer throwing fit  from Davies during Alcohol where he emptied half a can over Mick Avory and then set on bassist John Gosling. 

    Gosling threw beer back and then threw his organ over. Chaos and fun and laughter. The Kinks were after fun and they dealt it out like nobody's business. 
But they did play at times and with  the brass section they actually got it on like I've never heard them before. Davis was ace. Posing with face and hands he swooned and spoke like a Hollywood actor. There was brother Dave slamming out chords.

      They were great and the surprising thing was that the audience thought so too. The Kinks succeeding in their own homeland? Could  this be true at last? 

     Roger Chapman reckoned they were Fearless and when they belted into You Really Got Me at about 78 m.p.h. the whole place erupted .Dave Davis playing the SAME guitar break and Ray teasing through the gap between his teeth  .Too much. More drinky winky and they had to do an encore. 

    Best number was Ray's Acute Schizophrenia Blues  but the whole act was a gas from start to finish and it was so good to see the audience behind them .Ray's a star and there are really few about . His songs his magic and doses of musical outrage. A breath of air. 

       The killer is the waiting. Waiting between bands .You sit around, listening to records but you want a band on. There were two stages ,one being on wheels, but it still takes a couple of hours between bands. The poor devils out  front are covering them selves with anything that keeps the wind out- and that includes polythene sheets already filthy and wet. You don't realize how hard its raining until you look  through the beams of the floodlights .And there it is ,thick, silver. Some poor guys are in terrible states. You can't even light a bloody cigarette.

 Those messages you hear Dunkley read over the mike. Somebody lost, or starting a fund for those busted and who can't afford a fine. ThereÌs nothing joyous, nothing great about it. 
        Its horribly sad. 

At the very front of the field underneath the stage - where the death dive  tank is busted -there are two rockers brawling in the mud. About a yard away is a huddle of blankets , topped with a cocoon of polythene. At the top is a small gap and you can see the dirty nose. Now that's pitiful, for thats a person and thats his freedom! 
 

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