The Bees
The Bees Knees
New Tent - Friday
Take seven lads from any country pub on a Saturday night. Dish out seven instruments at random. Transport them in an Austin Powers whirly time machine to 1969 and then bring them back. And there, in a nutshell, you have The Bees.
The Bees make music that makes people happy. All groove-laden psychedelia and spangly pop melodies, the Isle of Wighters seem the perfect band to take on the maddest, muddiest festival on Earth.
The main reason why The Bees are such an enjoyable live act is the fact that they seem to love what they are doing even more than the crowd does. You won’t find any sulky Gallagher-esque posturing here - throughout their set The Bees wear the sort of honest grins you would cheerfully buy a second-hand car from or take home to meet your mum, their happy expressions mirrored in the blissed-out, sunburnt faces of the crowd.
It says something when an English band can orchestrate a festival sing-song in another language but “A Minha Menina”, their stomping classic from Mercury- nominated first album “Sunshine Hit Me” got one of the biggest responses, the crowd shouting along to every Hispanic syllable. New material from the bands imminent, eagerly anticipated second album “Free the Bees” was lapped up and you can guarantee they made a few more album sales with this performance. One of the most refreshing things to hit Glastonbury since the invention of the wet wipe, The Bees certainly impressed tonight.
Will Saunders
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