Despite its billing as London's "psychedelic summer fete", this newly minted one-day bash did little to distinguish itself from other outdoor gigs, and sadly struggled with the logistics of looking after 10,000 people partying in the park. Gargantuan queues (over an hour for a beer!), high prices, bad food, squalid toilets - aren't those the things people go to these so-called boutique festivals to avoid?

The rock/rave/folk-spanning lineup looked promising on paper, but somehow failed to satisfy, often for silly, avoidable reasons. Sitting on a haybale in the sun listening to James Yorkston's classy folk could have been a pleasure had not the bass thud of the dance tent a few yards away been so distracting.

Chromeo's mid-afternoon set drew a big crowd, but initial enthusiasm seemed to wane as the prosaic truth of their painfully affected retro-electro set in. The much-tipped Foals made some pleasingly weird sounds with their guitars, but ultimately sailed too close to latterday post-punk cliches, and suffered in comparison with the superb Battles. But, despite being the band with the most startling, original and exciting ideas on the bill, the absurdly quiet main stage sound rendered Battles a little inert.

It was left to the Archie Bronson Outfit to deliver the one truly great set of the day, their rumbling, sinister fuzz-blues hitting a stride and power like no one else - and for this they were rewarded with the noise-fearing authorities pulling the plug on them before they had even finished. Later on, Four Tet's multi-disciplinary electronica was brain-tickling fun, and Justice's stadium electro was clearly working. Some redemption late in the game then, but there were just too many gripes to call the day a real success.