FOR a while there it looked as if Radiohead's Big Day Out in Galway was going to turn out simply wet, wet, wet. But sound carries even through water and so the music cut through the sheets of rain with surprising clarity.

Yesterday's rockiest in a field began at lunchtime with rank unknowns Edge City, and continued with a performance by hotly tipped newcomer Ron Sexsmith. Fermanagh man Neil Hannon, a.k.a. The Divine Comedy, kept things cool and classy while the storm clouds gathered overhead.

Swedish band The Cardigans were like a colourful brolly to keep the tears at bay and they won the early part of the day with their cuddly yet abrasive pop. Fronted by the cute and charming Nina, The Cardigans craft a jazzy style of indie, sounding deceptively melodic and misleadingly middle of the road.

Songs like Gordon's Garden Party, Daddy's Car and Step On Me, however, veer into some strange, quirky territory, sidelining the listener with some inventive musical manoeuvres. "We write songs about miserable things and we put beautiful tunes to them, announces Nina, forgetting to mention that The Cardigans also put a lot of imagination into them too."

In lesser hands Celia Inside could have been a twee, subgothic ballad but when Nina wraps her psyche around it, the song becomes a beautiful, delicate piece of porcelain. The new single, Love Fool, has the harder edge that the casual listener often misses and Hey! Get Out Of My Way proves that The Cardigans can knock the stuffing out of the teddy bear image.

The band finished with the bright and brassy Rice And Shine, a final wake up call to anyone who still thinks they're just another bunch of sleepy Scandinavians.

A lot of people were expecting The Bluetones to fly but Hounslow's answer to The Stone Roses didn't quite achieve lift off they did, however, show, their jumbo sized grip on things, turning in a strong, focused set which put them well above their more fey contemporaries.

Singer Mark Morris's exuded poise and confidence as she swaggered his was through Bluetonic, Cut Some Rug and Slight Return, only pausing to kick back a football which had been bouncing around in the crowd.

This was certainly not the same band which had played Dublin's Whelan's only last year, sounding tense, tentative and not just a little tremulous.

Now that they've found their stride, let's see if they'll go the distance.

We haven't seen much of Neneh Cherry since her 1994 duet with Youssou N'Dour, Seven Seconds, but she's back on the road with a fresh enthusiasm after the birth of her latest child. She's was there at the birth of the Bristol trip hop movement and her new single, Woman, still has echoes of the Massive Attack/Portishead lazy beat style.

Onstage, Cherry and her band went for all out funk attack, going mental on a cover version of Jimi Hendrix's Crosstown Traffic and giving the crowd what they wanted with Seven Seconds. "It's wicked to be here," she told the crowd, and seemed clearly, delighted to be out of the house and up on the stage. Despite her exuberance, however, she didn't quite have the required freak out power.

Power was not a problem for Radiohead, and when they burst into My Iron Lung, they knocked the wind out of the 15,000 fans who had waited all day for the anti heroes of the day.

Two days before, the band had played a warm up gig in Dublin's Olympia Theatre, ripping heads with their tight, frenzied attack. Here, in the wide expanse of the West, the music sounded bigger, more embracing, more, dare I say it, universal.

Dammit, even the small but perfectly talented Thom Yorke looked bigger as he led his devoted followers through Planet Telex, High + Dry and C.R.E.E.P, and his smile seemed to span the entire stage as he led the band through songs from Pablo Honey and The Bends.

In the festival setting, the new songs sounded warm and welcoming but the cold shouldered kick of songs like Just was undiminished by the extra space. Yorke consolidated his position as the vengeful busker by doing a solo spot on the acoustic guitar, then reminded us of

Radiohead's strength in numbers by bringing back the band, for a head butting finale of Fake Plastic Trees and You.