Who: Sheffield's most charismatic pop musicians. And yes, Pulp and Arctic Monkeys, we mean that.
Dress code: Former neuromantic Phil Oakey is going with the suited-and-booted dignity. Happily, Susan and Jo are keeping it real with full-on lace and basque-ness.
Who's watching: A small hardcore of devotees, people who missed Grace Jones, and people who are waiting for The Winehouse.
In a nutshell: I've seen the Human League roughly once a year for the past seven. The first time was at one of those depressing Here and Now 80s tours, but a strange thing has happened since then. They keep playing bigger and better stages, and what you might once have dismissed as a novelty act turns out to be among the weekend's biggest draws. The set is truncated due to all the special guests, but maybe that's good. Because they left all us novelty sea creatures wanting more.
Bestival: Together in Electric Dreams. Absolutely and completely. Actually, the fact that the League's defining moment isn't even really their own song only adds to the brilliant pathos with which it was intended.
Worstival: Nah, changed our minds. The bloody brevity of the whole thing. The Winehouse hoo-ha might just have gone too far by the fact that they didn't get to play One Man in My Heart or Human.
