The Wireless festival sets out to appeal to everyone: across its four days it offers a lineup of crowd-pleasers, flavours of the month and genuine talent. But it felt more like a package holiday, with bands strewn together aimlessly before a largely indifferent crowd.

On the second day, the smaller stages hosted the more intriguing acts. Among these were openers Lazenby, whose understated jazz styles, a combination of svelte and mettle, provided some early class. With the band all dressed in black, their female singer in fiery red, there was something of the dominant 1950s housewife about the show.

Ralph Myerz and the Jack Herren Band's off-kilter performance injected some life into the inert crowd. Their berserk set, laden with heavy basslines and pounding rhythms, had wit, style and self-conscious humour. It was also littered with festival games and crowd participation: at one stage they recorded the audience, improvising with the tapes.

But ultimately it was the Mitchell Brothers who were to be the day's stars. They provided a healthy dose of profanity that saw families leave the arena. The flow was slick, professional and the production pummelling, but it was hard to decide whether the duo are genuine, or simply caricatures of an urbane - more than merely urban - reality.

These were entertaining performances, but with the atmosphere already subdued by grey clouds and chill winds, the festival felt more like an exercise in brand awareness for the sponsors, O2, than anything else. Like the title implied, it was all a bit too disconnected.