Hawkwind

The festival is drawing to a close and we’re faced with a choice between the alt country, kraut-tinged twang of Wilco and Hawkwind’s thundering space riffs. Moods are checked, options are weighed and in the end we opt for the psychedelic warriors. They may not be the freshest looking bunch to play Green Man, but that doesn’t stop Hawkwind from storming through their back catalogue, with ‘Silver Machine’ serving as a highlight for the eager mass gathered before them. Exhausted by this stage, our critical faculties leave us and we’re left to simply nod along as we decide that yes, Hawkwind can still call forth the rock.

The Doran verdict: "Don't get me wrong, I love classic Hawkwind — but given the amount of drugs I've taken I shouldn't be standing here noticing how Spinal Tap a lot of this is. The thing about cardboard scythes is they're always going to look like cardboard. And a bleeding edge 1992 rave light show, complete with fucking fractals bought from a bankrupt rave promoter 15 years ago, is always going to look a bit naff. 'Silver Machine' and 'Wraith' are amazing though."