This year's V99 -- the Virgin brand, two-day outdoor music festival -- like all of the products that bear Richard Branson's commercial stamp (whether it be cola, cosmetics or your bridal gown) is highly stylized, hip and a good value for the money. Its inherent corporate bloodlines guarantee that everything is well-sponsored and runs like clockwork -- from the MTV, Reebok and Wella sponsored stages right down to the free Internet access provided by Starburst Fruit Ices.

With God on Branson's side, there is warm, sunny weather and not a single drop of rain at either of the festival's locales -- Hylands Park in Chelmsford, Essex, England (a small town 30-minutes outside of London by train and the social equivalent of Staten Island to Manhattan) and Weston Park, Staffordshire, Northern England -- on Saturday or Sunday.

And, thanks to a large battalion of Hulk-like, neon-orange coated security guards patrolling the Chelmsford site and manning all stages and entrances, only 31 arrests (23 drugs related, 8 minor offenses) are reported in crowds of 55,000 each day. While Woodstock '99 ended up being the South Central, L.A. of summer music extravaganzas, V99 (like its predecessors in 1996-'98) is a comparable Disneyland.

But all that glitters with big name backing is not gold -- at least as far as musical talent is concerned. The two top acts on the weekend bill do not deliver as expected. Spice Girl Mel C, who has taken the adult step of lengthening her name to Melanie, and James Brown [ tickets ], the now geriatric grandpappy of soul, leave their audiences stoical and motionless instead of bouncing and cheering.

V99 is meant to be Melanie C's first major outing as Solo Spice, however, it ends up little more than a storm in a soda bottle. The most obvious change in Melanie, for those who haven't glimpsed her recently, is that she has ditched her trademark track suits and long black ponytail for a new cropped blond 'do, purple plaid skater shorts, and tight 'White Trash' top. Mel's aim Saturday afternoon on the main V Stage is no longer to be Sporty. Instead she is rock chick without a cause. Highlights from her 20-minute set of prancing up and down the stage and making 'I am tough' faces at the audience included her new heavy grunge single 'Goin Down' and a scratchy version of the Sex Pistols' ''Anarchy in the UK.'' Granted, she does, impressively, sound like the female version of Johnny Rotten if you dare to imagine it. However, she's lost without the pre-molded dance routines and guaranteed style council that come with being a Spice Girl.

Compared to hippy band The Levellers, which are on before her, there is not a ripple in the crowd of thousands who turn out to see what the lone Spice Girl can do. People are disappointed with the lack of.. everything in her set. Melanie knows this as well, saying after the second number: ''Some people don't want to see me up here, but I don't give a f**k. My band are wicked if you think I'm s**t.'' Melanie C has the power behind her voice to be quite dynamic, but she lacks the one big thing that is crucial to succeeding as a pop star: her own identity.

On the other hand, James Brown, who headlines the MTV on Saturday night, has the attitude but not the energy. One does not get the Godfather for an entire hour-and-a-half as expected but the 'James Brown Show' straight from Las Vegas. Or so you'd gather from the full brass band decked out in bright royal blue tailcoats and trousers and the MC decked out in a bright white suit.

Having to wait half-an-hour for the man himself is cruel and unusual punishment, not to mention downright boring for the wide band of teens who have come to experience authentic funk and soul for the first time. Blond Vegas singer Tanya Ray singing a cover of Janis Joplin's ''Mercedes Benz'' is a useless distraction with the audience shrugging their shoulders, questioning what they are actually witnessing.

Finally, though, an age-worn legend in a light blue, rhinestone-lined leisure suit thrusts his carcass onto the stage for a comparatively short but luscious burst of classic tunes including ''Sex Machine,'' ''Living In America,'' and ''I Feel Good.'' And, between spandex clad dancers and shimmying back-up singers, promising material from his new album ''I'm Back''' is showcased. Brown's golden numbers are as good as always, but the filler before and after leaves a young British audience -- with a healthy appetite for a thumping beat -- voracious for more.

The strongest performances of the weekend come from the homegrown UK talent. Indie Welsh trio The Manic Street Preachers, who have a love-hate relationship with America due to poor album sales and a cancelled tour of the US (Oasis syndrome strikes again), demonstrate the meaning of 'inspired live performance' as they headline the V Stage on Saturday night. Vocalist/guitarist James Dean Bradfield (yes, this is the man infamous for saying Michael Stipe looked like an AIDS victim a couple of years ago) engages in rapport with the rest of the band and the audience between a tight rendition of hits including ''You Stole the Sun from My Heart, ''Tsunami' and ''You Love Us.'' The Manics, as they are fondly known in Jolly Old, Jolly Old, also play live for the first time their richly-layered upcoming single ''Masses Against fhe Classes.''

Offbeat English pop veterans Suede also more than earn their keep as Sunday night's V Stage headliners. The ever-svelte and high-cheek boned Brett Anderson is in top form as he performs ''Trash,'' ''Beautiful Ones,'' and ''Animal Nitrate.'' By the time the group closes on ''She's In Fashion,'' the audience is swaying gleefully like a bunch of prairie dogs on a warm afternoon. Suede's eloquence of old, as heard on their self-titled debut LP ('93) and on ''Dog Man Star'' ('94) is still ever-present, and the crowd's adoration accounts for Monday's announcement of their first UK tour in three years, beginning this October.

V99's appeal, like Disneyland's, is its solidly entertaining and virtually perfect approach and delivery of an open air music event for thousands of people en masse. It's not wildly rebellious like the UK's Reading Festival or introverted and loony like Glastonbury. Instead, it's a practical event for practical yet fashionable mainstream rock and pop fans who want their cappuccinos and top ten bands in equal quantities. This year's V-fest proves that there's safety in conformity, but also a lot of fun (and profits) to be had.