Chappell Roan arrives on the main stage at Reading Festival in a rustle of black taffeta and scarlet silk, bat fascinator perched atop her flaming locks. For all the looming grandeur of her set, which could be the castle of a Disney villain or a Meatloaf music video, it’s a strangely muted entrance. Blame it on the sound, which unless you’re plonked directly in front of the speakers, is a little muddy; the chatter of teenage fans on the outskirts actually threatens to drown out her slinky opener, “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl”.
When it comes to one of pop’s biggest breakout stars in a decade, though, nothing stays muted for long. Leading a band that probably evens out the always-uneven gender split at Reading by 10 per cent, she delivers each song with unmatched panache, striding about like a beatific queen to a tight setlist that is non-stop bangers. It’s the most alive the festival – best associated with feral teenagers, tents being set alight and Lord of the Flies-level anarchy – has felt all day. Yet the genteel and only mildly inebriated gaggles of youths are seemingly here for Roan and her alone, having earlier watched with polite bemusement as Australian actor Rebel Wilson rapped “Gangsta’s Paradise” with The Kooks for a scene from her next film.
