A music festival, like any good carnival, should blast daily life away. Glastonbury began in this vein, a party in Michael Eavis's oversize back garden, served by a makeshift stage and a beer tent. Similarly, the Cambridge folk festival was conceived as a musical expression of a better life, driven by its founders' socialist ideals. The Isle of Wight event saw Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix and the Doors headlining by its second and third year. Facilities were basic, conditions insalubrious, security lax, but tickets were cheap and the free spirits who gathered did so in a spontaneous celebration of musical and political counterculture, enraging the locals as much as their parents.
Nearly 40 years of refinement later, there are so many festivals to choose from that everyone can go. Glastonbury and T in the Park have become predictable. The cost of a ticket is operatic, and the sheer volume of events has meant that confusion (and dehydration) is the most common complaint in the first aid tent. Sanitary attendants, luminous stewards and Thai chefs parry for space within secure and oppressive perimeter walls. Worst of all, the atmosphere has lost its edge - increased police presence has sent tent stealers, pickpockets and drug dealers packing, while a carnivalesque spirit of excess, has been replaced by the anodyne commercialism of sponsors like Nokia and Radio 2. Anyone would be forgiven for mistaking this year's V festival for Chelmsford high street on holiday.
But an event which may retain an element of surprise is one held at the Eden Project in Cornwall. Unlike most festivals, which cram hundreds of acts into one long weekend, the Eden Sessions take a more civilised approach, spreading a series of night-time concerts across July and August. Ticket-holders can picnic in the grounds before the show, sample world food, or promenade through plant-filled geodesic domes. For the conscientious pop star, the Eden Sessions have become some of the most sought-after dates on the touring calendar, both for their environmental associations - the project aims to improve man's relationship with plants - and for their setting - bands play before a grassy bank of 4,000 souls, backlit by two gigantic biomes and a silvery lake.
Now into their third year, the Eden Sessions have always selected their guests according to their environmental empathy, not just their commercial draw. This year's stars include psychiatric outpatient Brian Wilson, erstwhile leader of the Beach Boys. Wilson has fought shy of festivals in the past but has chosen the quiet counterculture of the Eden Project to perform his rediscovered work, Smile. Revealed to great acclaim in January, many of its themes are drawn from nature, his co-lyricist Van Dyke Parks having conjured some of the most beautiful images in pop.
Also on the bill are members of the world music organisation, Womad, who are returning to Eden for the second time. Their appearance is further evidence of festival culture's about-turn. Where festivals once played host to good causes (coffee at Glastonbury is fair trade), it is the charity which now plays host to the festival.
Plants, as the Eden Project's pedagogues will confirm, are the atmosphere's great filters, hence their decision to invite the aptly named French duo, Air. In today's increasingly insular world of manufactured music, Air still look to collaborate with other genres, lately with bestselling Italian author Alessandro Baricco, who reads from his novel City over Air's cinematic backing. No doubt they will find a way to collaborate with the Eden Project itself, exploring its visual power. Their shameless plundering of the easy listening catalogue has provided them with a seemingly limitless number of ethereal jingles and filmic beats, all set to tempos so leisurely one cannot help but relax. Simply playing tracks from this year's album Talkie Walkie - their best to date - should, however, be enough.
The Eden Sessions, St Austell, Cornwall. Brian Wilson performs on 16th July; Air on 13th August; Womad on 27th August
