Where and when: The Other Stage, 11am

Dress Code: A look of damp anticipation. The Libertines? Prince? The first of Fat White Family’s 37 sets of the weekend? The soggy-but-breathless hordes gather to learn the identity of the "special guests" opening the festival in what’s witheringly known as “the Beady Eye slot”.

What happened: Total hit-storm. Rather than spinning to face us in five huge revolving chairs, the Kaiser Chiefs wander on to a stage wittily bedecked with flags on poles and instantly prove why they’re still major-festival party-starters. From the opening surf-guitar chimes of I Predict a Riot, Ricky Wilson is out there: standing on the crowd, launching himself from atop the bass drum, sprinting across the stage, starting Mexican waves and beating himself in the head with his microphone. New track Coming Home suggests that Wilson’s stint on The Voice has infected him with a mild dose of Snow Patrol, and, in the chilly light of day, his lyrical gags about crisp dinners and Pac-Man clunk and clang like a 3-2-1 turn – he even quietly changes the “can you fix it for me?” line from We Are the Angry Mob. But when Never Miss a Beat, Every Day I Love You Less and Less and Ruby fire out in quick succession, it’s clear that the Kaisers could lift spirits in a collapsed mine and start mosh pits at a G8 summit.

High point: Oh My God – it’s like the Levellers never stopped headlining.

Low point: “It’s gonna be a Glastonbury to remember!” Ricky bawls. “YAAAAAR!” the crowd agrees. “Now this one’s called Meanwhile Up in Heaven, it’s for anyone that’s lost someone this year … ” It’s as vibe-killing as Skrillex having a minute’s silence for Frankie Knuckles.

In a Tweet: Prince who?