Live Review: Parklife 2012

Today's inclement weather conditions may limit walk-up sales, but ticketholders dress responsibly and only a couple of pairs of streaky, spray-tanned, bare legs in hotpants are viewed throughout the day. Our reconnaissance of the grounds exposes many discarded empty 375ml Smirnoff plastic bottles and we wonder why other booze brands don't follow suit – there's a big market out there for smuggle-friendly, festival receptacles. Some randoms try to initiate dance-offs before we've even had a chance to neck a bevo. It's way too soon for that. Security guards suck on Chuppa Chups and happily pose for photos with overenthusiastic munters.

The drizzle makes UK quintet Citizens! feel at home as they set up on the Atoll stage and we bust early moves to Mediate by INXS as it pumps through the sound system. The pale fivesome take the stage and perform their set in note-perfect fashion, but there's a certain energy lacking. We wanna dance to warm up our limbs, but the music doesn't demand this from us. As we negotiate the hill over to the main Sahara stage, suave Citizens! offering, Reptile, fades into the distance.

Scoring a primo posi for Plan B (aka Ben Drew), we're thrilled by Faith SFX's beatboxing intro, which incorporates The Prodigy's Smack My Bitch Up and Boom Boom Boom by The Outhere Brothers – “Boom boom boom/Now let me hear you say, 'Wayoh'”; “WAYOH!” You'd swear the band were playing offstage the way Faith SFX accurately imitates instruments. The British rapper opens with She Said and his effortless transitions between soulful crooning and spitting rhymes is his weapon of voice. When this reviewer last admired Plan B, he was dolled up in a smart three-piece suit. This time he's strutting around in a double-denim disaster: acid wash jeans and black denim jacket. Plan B's backing band is extraordinary, incorporating two sassy BV vixens with matching Balinese-style hair braids. After exploring his …Strickland Banks persona, Drew intros Lost My Way with his prominent geezer accent: “This one's for all my lost boys and girls.” The sounds achieved are astonishing. “Before we get into it, I'm gonna play something for your mums and dads.” Stand By Me is given a dubstep flava thanks to Faith SFX's vocal cords, but then this turns into a gnarly take on Seal's Kiss From A Rose. If Plan B had already played ill Manors, this would've sent us fleeing in search of sonic salvation. The “where's the mosh pit? “shouts that follow are fairly lame also, but Mosh Pit's instrumentation is banging. And then ill Manors tears the Bowl a new one, as anticipated. Drew's a superstar.

The Atoll stage draws us over the hill like a super-strength magnet thanks to Wiley plus a sudden burst of sunshine. Witnessed on the incline: a dude in a panda suit who's given his mate the head to wear while he smokes a durry. Revellers happily bop along and get involved while Wiley and his two offsiders demonstrate rap majesty. Wearing My Rolex is massive and it's impossible to not grind along with Boy Better Know's Too Many Man (“We need some more girls in here/There's too many men…”). We wonder which came first, BBK's track or Flight Of The Conchords' similarly themed Too Many Dicks (On The Dance Floor). Wiley's inclusion of a take on Blur's Parklife is a novel idea, and hearing Damon Albarn's vocals is always a welcome treat, but it doesn't quite work. As the bass for Cash In My Pocket rumbles, we scour the area for Daniel Merriweather. Unfortunately he doesn't appear and the crowd is urged to sing his challenging chorus hook.

Tame Impala are up next on this peripheral stage and we're frothing over the prospect of experiencing their new tracks live, having barely given our ears a break from second album Lonerism over the last few days. Before too long, the unassuming-looking (now) five-piece wander on stage and belt into Desire Be Desire Go. It's tumultuous and as the wind picks up, we all flail about, possessed. Frontman Kevin Parker's guitar tuning and pedal obsession wrench such dirty distortion from his axe that it's screwfaces all 'round. Front row fans push a snapper in the photography pit aside when she obstructs their precious view. Solitude Is Bliss further livens up the masses and barefooted Parker is clearly in the zone as he screws up his nose, eyes closed, to achieve the sustained “Feeeeel” of this chorus. Parker claims to have fucked up a song early on, but Tame Impala sound perfect to this set of ears. We all wish we had a “big grey trunk” to shake “'round for the hell of it” throughout the mighty Elephant and a bouncer raises a shoe in the air – it must've dislodged from a crowd surfer's foot. Then in roll the clouds, sending many scurrying towards the shelter of the Bowl.

Why anyone would ever prioritise Nero over Tame Impala is baffling. Finding a nook up in the VIP balcony, it's immediately apparent that the British duo wish they were Daft Punk. They don't even come close. Daniel Stephens and Joseph Ray wear matching futurist black wraparound sunnies and twiddle knobs high up on an elaborate console built from boom boxes and speakers. Visuals are impressive and many dudes in the crowd are overheard remarking on singer Alana Watson's hotness. Dangerously tall human pyramids spring up throughout the stalls. Gotta hand it to them: Promises receives the reaction of the day.

There's more ladies applying lippie in the bathrooms than queuing for a slash – one must always look their best despite sporting an ugly poncho. Taking over Sahara is Justice DJs and they open with a cheeky track featuring the following repeated lyrics, “Ecstasy/One for me”. The dapper French twosome always look dashing and do a wicked job maintaining the vitality of festivalgoers. There's lots of smoke and mystery. Justice's own (Vs Simian) We Are Your Friends alternating with T Rex's Get It On (Bang A Gong) is inspired.

Time's ticking towards The Presets o'clock and it's been way too long between live sets for the Sydney duo. The third two-piece on the trot to grace Sahara stage, Julian Hamilton and Kim Moyes make a ridiculous amount of racket and those assembled can't get enough by song two: Talk Like That. Wish we could fast-forward latest single Ghost, but its thankfully followed by a gorgeous, extended Chicago house-style piano intro for This Boy's In Love. Kicking And Screaming becomes Youth In Trouble and the latter track's breakdown equals aural poppers. Hamilton's phrasing is impeccably fresh (“With the music taste a-bom-in-able”), but he often comes across smug during minimal between-song banter. If I Know You navigates us down into the bowels of a happening underground club and Are You The One? still devastates with its clap-along pattern that's impossible to resist. Judging by audience reaction, sinister new album track AO has infiltrated our collective national identity.

We're granted an encore and Push our bodies to their physical limits. Whatever you think about how The Presets come across in interviews, they are undeniably, “Very good/So clever”. And what a win to include I Go Hard, I Go Home in their set tonight!

Robyn can be heard warbling away on the Atoll stage as we make our way toward the exit and an overheard punter comment from earlier accurately describes Parklife 2012: “This is good, but the turn-out's fucked!” And so is the fact that Robyn neglected to play Konichiwa Bitches.