Picture the scene.

You’re sat in a field eating a greasy Chinese meal that cost £6, while the Proclaimers are on a huge stage 500 yards away bellowing out Letter From America. In half an hour’s time, literally thousands of people who have formed 100ft queues to buy pints of lager will head over to the very same stage and sing along to Editors’ and their pounding gloom-rock in the Essex sunshine.

Welcome to Saturday afternoon at V Festival 2007.

The annual two-day music event has always been a strange anomaly in the British festival season since its conception in 1996. The old romantics covet Glastonbury, while rock fans cling to Leeds and Reading for dear life. Even the more hairier and angstier music fan has Download. So exactly what kind of music fan does V and its eclectic line-up actually cater for?

Well, it initially seems it’s for people who think 2.30pm is an ideal time to see Editors live. The organisers obviously seemed to think it was a good idea, but many people probably found the set a surreal experience to cope with as the likes of Munich and An End Has A Start were belted out in the best weather of the weekend. However, none of the powerful grandeur of Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors was lost in the afternoon sun – and the anthem’s massive reception suggested it may quickly become the band’s most loved song.

Following Birmingham’s finest was Paolo Nutini. The Scottish singer raised a lot of questions during his set, including quite how his insipid, dull and dreary songs have ever managed to gain an audience. This writer didn’t actually realise people actually bought his records, yet the amount of people singing along to his awful music suggests otherwise. A deeply irritating new song about him trying his first joint only served to confirm the utter terribleness of it all.

Fortunately, Kanye West’s set proved that standing through Nutini’s nonsense was completely justified. The rapper knows how to put on a show, and his performance confirmed his place as hip-hop’s brightest star. Highlights included a run through older tracks like All Falls Down and Through the Wire, as he acknowledged some of the brilliant music he made before he became the genuine superstar he now is. He was even humble enough to admit he made a mistake in the verses of Gold Digger and performed the parts again with only his string section as backing. Mr West may be the coolest man in music right now.

The same couldn’t be said of The Coral, who clambered on to the 4Music Stage in their anoraks with about as much presence as a feather in a thunderstorm. However, it must be said that not many bands boast such a great back catalogue of singles to rely on. The older songs got the warmest reception, but the new material – in particular single Who’s Gonna Find Me? – sounded like it would fit right into their pantheon of great tunes. However, the decision to open with the monumental Goodbye was just plain confusing.
Less confusing and more predictable were Snow Patrol. Quickly becoming the most reliably dull rock band in music, their staid anthems were a big hit with the huge crowd watching on at the V Stage – and to be fair only the hardest hearts wouldn’t have been melted by a powerful rendition of Run, which was the massive highlight of a relatively workmanlike set.

Dave Grohl was anything but workmanlike during the Foo Fighter’s rather mindblowing headline slot. Emerging on his own to begin a stirring Everlong, the former Nirvana drummer showed how he is fast becoming one of the best frontmen of his generation. The rest of the band were also on top form as they powered through a set that reminded the huge crowd of just how many great songs they have written. A special mention goes to This Is A Call, which made one writer not a million miles away very very happy.

As for Sunday, the best of the day’s line-up could be found on the 4Music Stage, where The Cribs played a typically brash and loud set to their ever-growing fanbase. The likes of Hey Scenesters and Men’s Needs were blasted out with the usual vitriol, while a spirited rendition of current single Moving Pictures was also warmly received.

Next up was Mark Ronson and his acclaimed covers band. The usual problem with wildly inventive records is that occasionally they don’t translate well live, but Version works brilliantly and creates one of the best atmospheres of the weekend. A special mention must also be made to Phantom Planet’s Alex Greenwald, who stole the show from the rest of the supporting artists with his take on Radiohead’s Just and then got the teenyboppers singing loudly with a performance of The OC theme tune California. It was hardly Californian weather in Chelmsford, but Ronson’s great band brought a little bit of sunshine to the audience.

Despite being less of a draw to the 4Music stage than the New York DJ’s ensemble, Guillemots continued the feel-good, great music vibe. While it is true that their freeform, pop explosion isn’t for everyone, they raised a lot of smiles with a set that included Trains to Brazil and Made-Up Lovesong #43. Their epic nine-minute closer Sao Paulo also thrilled as many people as it bamboozled.

However, while Guillemots’ individual take on pop music wasn’t the most popular music of the weekend, it certainly had more style and spontaneity than Mika’s painfully synthetic and calculated batch of tunes. Catchy to the point of maximum annoyance, the singer’s music lacks any form of subtlety. The biggest example of this is the 20ft inflatable ‘big girl’ that the singer has onstage to remind everyone without shame that he wrote that irritating song about ladies of the larger variety. However, this reviewer’s personal grievances weren’t shared by the masses who flocked to the stage and danced their way through his depressingly chirpy disco pap.

Thankfully, Lily Allen’s performance was lighthearted without being slick. The singer’s down-to-earth nature appealed to the majority of the audience, even though she threatened to alienate the male audience by singing her ode to small genitalia, Not Big. The only problem facing Allen however, is that her ‘everywoman’ demeanour and personality is threatening to overshadow her songs, with more people walking away talking about her jokes about US immigration than her actual set.
On the other hand, the Manic Street Preachers make it all about the music. Apart from a few sympathetic words about the weather, James Dean Bradfield stuck mainly to blasting out the band’s blistering back catalogue and a few songs from new album Send Away the Tigers. The band are in fine form at the moment and the likes of Motorcycle Emptiness were dispatched with the verve of a much younger band. A rousing A Design for Life brought their time to a close, with Bradfield throwing his guitar into the pit after suffering sound problems throughout their set.

The Killers cruised through their umpteenth headlining slot with all of the style of men who know how to play the crowd. However, after sticking around for the likes of Bones, Smile Like You Mean It and brilliant opener Sam’s Town, their slick and comfortable delivery of their back-catalogue encouraged more open-minded people to look elsewhere for their entertainment on the festival’s final night.

With Bright Eyes missing from the Saturday night line-up due to illness, the ranks of acclaimed singer-songwriters at the event had taken a massive dent and – no matter how hard he tried – Damien Rice’s efforts in his Sunday headlining slot in the JJB tent were not enough to make people forget about Conor Oberst’s absence. While his harder edge makes him more interesting than most acoustic guitar-slung troubadours, it could also be a side of him that alienates people who are unfamiliar with anything other than Cannonball. It also wouldn’t be unfair to say that Rice’s particular brand of misery wouldn’t be many people’s ideal end to a largely fun and upbeat weekend of alcohol and rain-drenched music.

All in all, after spending a whole weekend trying to figure it out, it remains an absolute mystery what kind of music fan V Festival was created for. However, amidst the extortionate food prices and huge, snaking beer queues, the festival line-up guarantees that every type of music fan will probably have to watch someone with their tongue firmly in their cheek. But isn’t that what it’s all about? A bit of entertainment over the weekend?