Latitude 2010 - Review (Part 2)

Saturday at Latitude 2010 brought a touch of early morning rain that disappeared shortly before the live music started. From thereon it was another day of sunshine rays and sunblock.

Pat Grossi aka Active Child may produce solemn frozen electronic hymns, but his engaging smile and greeting of “morning campers,” to those who had turned out early for his set at the leafy Sunrise Arena belied the idea that he was some sort of gloomy chill wave monster. Plucking at his harp whilst his laptop added beats and washes of weighty eighties influenced synth sounds, his eerie falsetto weaved its way through the trees during I’m In Your Church At Night, threatening to call out the forest ghosts. It was a devine sound and Grossi knew it - kissing his harp at the end in thanks. The music of Active Child may be coldly computerized, but his words are often warm, human and emotional, from “I’m so far away from the warmth of your body,” to “take shelter in my arms.” Finishing with When Your Love Is Safe, his icy sound managed to warm the soul.

Over at the Lake Stage 18 year old Rachel Furner was the latest young pop hopeful bashing out songs such as Human Nature - a ditty about how you can’t help who you fall in love with - on her keyboard. She was clearly enjoying herself, full of youthful positivity and big smiles. It’s hard not to like her enthusiasm, but easy to dislike her songs a blend of highly commercial X Factor meets Scouting For Girls blandness. She can sing, she’s sassy but she offered no delight other than mainstream hollowness.

Not everything mainstream need be hollow, as the next act - Clare Maguire (pictured above) - proved. One of our Ones To Watch 2010 Maguire positively boomed out her songs to the “crazy Latitude people,” as she described them, with a voice awash with soul and richness. Ain’t Nobody, Shield and the Sword and Last Dance were all incredibly potent, fully justifying the argument that real talent still counts in the music industry - Maguire having been signed to Polydor Records. She also helped continue the Fleetwood Mac revival following the emergence of Lissie and Florence and the Machine’s recent Glastonbury performance of The Chain, by delivering an immense version of Big Love. Forget X-Factor. Forget Britain’s Got Talent. The real deal is Clare Maguire.

“I believe in guitars, bass, drums, three minute songs, Elvis Presley, Bruce Springsteen and rock ’n’ roll,” Frank Turner passionately announced from the Obelisk Stage before getting the crowd to yell back “I believe,” to his own musical religious mantra. Turner may not be a patch on Presley or Springsteen - but his set is workmanlike, honest and full of conviction. His acoustic strum-thrashes delight those at the front who sing along to every word, and its hard not to be moved by the touching Long Live The Queen- a positive song about a friend of his that died.

The reformed James get things exactly right for their late afternoon slot. Starting with the song Bubbles the best track from their inconsistent album Hey Ma, their now bald and goateed singer Tim Booth sang gloriously “I’m alive,” and it felt like a new birth for the band. “We were going to do lots of new ones, but......,” he joked before leading his group through a greatest hits set that included Ring The Bells, Sound, Sometimes, Laid and inevitably Sit Down, which he performed off the stage (see video clip below). It was perfect for the time of day and became a joyous crowd pleasing celebration of the bands career. Booth danced like a madman, contorting his arms and body in a trance like state and during Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) pulled a John Travolta Saturday Night Fever pose as he sang a line about the actor. Good to have them to have them back as Bruce Forsyth might say.

Back at the Lake Stage Nedry brought something of a very different nature, their heavy trembling basslines and edgy beats getting heads bobbing. Lead singer Ayu was resplendent dancing childlike in in a pink shiny dress as she wailed and chanted playfully, her two laptop whiz-kids Chris and Matt rowing in rafts of post-dubstep illustriousness. Ending with a new slightly more techno-laced track than what they have produced before they no doubt won a few new fans.

Riot-electro-art-punks Teeth continue to divide opinion. With simply a single laptop, live drums and the robot-effect vocals of Veronica So their raw intense bleepy shouty d.i.y sound left some audience members shaking their heads, whilst others, at the encouragement of the band formed a circle pit - the kind of thing you would expect at a metal gig rather than a rather more sedate festival - although this circle pit did feature children and placid forty year old men - this was Latitude after all.

Back to the Obelisk stage, the festival was about to witness its most controversial performance. Alice Glass from Crystal Castles looked like a crazed vampire in a Smiths tour t-shirt. She vacantly stared at the audience, swigged from a bottle of Jim Beam and shrieked over the digital hardcore and dirty rave blasts that emanated from Ethan Kath’s box of electronic tricks, backed up by a live drummer. News of the rape that occurred on Thursday night had slowly spread around the site and Alice angrily urged that all rapists should be castrated before launching herself into the full-on mosh pit. After crowd surfing for some time she pulled back and shouted “You touch my tits, I kick you in the f*cking head,” before lashing a series of blows down on one audience member. From thereon Glass barely sang at all, instead she prowled the stage, knocked over a drum riser and exited to a number of boos from the back of the crowd. Provocative and with a performance more akin to Reading Festival than Latitude, if nothing else Crystal Castles know how to grab headlines.

Musically opposite to Crystal Castles, Obelisk stage headliners Belle and Sebastian brought a lot of love and fun to Latitude 2010. Playing their first show in four years the Scottish twee indie-pop heroes charmed with humour and great songs. Stuart Murdoch joked that he was going to take his top off, but “That would be like walking in on your dad in the shower.” Later he explained that the band had been having bad dreams about playing live again - that their guitars turned to jellyfish or his tongue into a cactus. Another dream involved Latitude itself and Murdoch turning to guitarist Stevie Jackson and saying “play Jumping Jack Flash.” They then turned the dream into a warped reality and rock out to The Rolling Stones number - a moment of surreal crowd pleasing. Wheeling out many of the classics - Funny Little Frog, Judy And The Dream Of Horses, Fox In The Snow, Legal Man, I’m A Cuckoo they then got a crowd of young fans from the front row up on stage to dance during The Boy With The Arab Strab. Whoever said that only big rock bands, anthems and huge light shows could work as a headline set at a festival begone. A victory for the small people.

From the sublime to the ridiculous the last musical entertainment of the night finished with Gaggle on the Lake Stage. Bearing weird colourful headpieces, face paint and banners that declare “This Is Merely A Distraction From The Inevitable” the 17 piece all female alt. choir spat out “How can tell if my mans a liar,” with venom, bemusing the crowd that had gathered to see them. Rather like other multi-member costumed bands such as The Polyphonic Spree, Gaggle are an interesting diversion because of their uniqueness, but this uniqueness is not particularly addictive. A ‘must see’ once - but that is enough. For now they remain a one trick pony.

With that Saturdays musical entertainment at Latitude 2010 was over. Until the next day where amongst others Mumford and Sons, The Antlers and Grizzly Bear awaited.

Summer Sundae 2009 - Part 2

Saturday of Summer Sunday Weekender 2009 brings exactly what the logo and strap line of the festival promise, namely “a musical treat” and lots of ice cream. It’s even possible to buy an ice cream called the ‘Bon Iver’ and the stall selling them seems to be doing a brisk trade. Thankfully the weather forecast from two days before is horrendously wrong and the sun shines all day. This means that the main stage area is once again full of picnic blankets. Luckily folding chairs are banned from the site otherwise moving across this particular area could have become a highly challenging assault course. The emptiest area by the main stage is actually right at the front, which is zoned by shade, making it relatively easy to turn up five minutes before a band are due to play and stand right against the barrier without being crushed if you so wish, whilst picnic types fight for space behind.

Like vampires a small audience initially take shelter from the sun in the De Montfort Hall to enjoy the experimental acoustic looping of David Thomas Broughton. The man is either a warped genius or just warped. With a folkish vocal tone not dissimilar to a deeper Antony from Antony and The Johnsons, Broughton uses loops like many of his contemporaries to layer and build tracks, but unlike many of his peer group his approach is much rougher, erratic and unconventional. He seems to want to destroy songs with uneasy noise and distortion with little regard for the enjoyment of his audience. By the end members of the crowd are covering their ears to avoid the high pitch squealing pain Broughton has induced over subtle and delicate acoustic tones. There are no gaps between his songs, no communication, no concession. This oddball maverick approach also applies to his physical performance which includes standing at the microphone self-consciously singing with both hands in his pockets, throwing himself across the floor and head butting the microphone. His lyrics are also both comic and disturbing. “I’m going to charge through this china shop, I’m going to drink till I stink, such is the nature of a drunk,” he operatically growls. Utterly memorable and perversely enjoyable.

Next up, outside in the sun Minnaars bombard the crowd with spikey post punk guitars that scream Foals at us in large capital letters. We almost expect them to cover Cassius and rename themselves Horses. Three years back this stuff would have seemed intelligently exciting and fresh , but now it seems dated, faded and worn. The indie kids at the front love them (they are local so that helps) and I’m sure the director of Skins will soon be in touch, but frankly the bus left two years ago and Minnaars are still waiting at the stop.

The Joy Formidable are however on the bus. Or rather they are the bomb on the bus in the film Speed. Ticking with a powerful fizz ready to explode, the Welsh trio show that exciting indie Brit guitar pop can still be made that doesn’t have to pay references to Blur, The Libertines or the like. Lead singer Ritzy is dynamite, her scuzzily sonic guitar becoming a little too aggressive for the good townsfolk of Leicester, the band being instructed to turn it down a little. Their sound is brash, frantic and has hints of bands such as Belly, Throwing Muses and Echobelly as well as atmospheric hints of Mogwai. Having first written about the band last January it’s good to finally catch them live and find that they live up to expectations. Leicester is theirs, easy.

“I’m not sure if our music is suited to a warm sunny day in Leicester,” says the lead singer of Broken Records and unfortunately he’s right. Despite the quality of the sound that mixes traditional instrumentation of accordion, cello, acoustic guitars and trumpets something is missing. Many of the songs meander with lots going on but nothing really hitting home. Even the epic closing number Slow Parade lacks potency. Maybe their songs work better in a dark sweaty club, maybe it was just an off day, or maybe the songs lose impact from being singularly formulaic in their attempts to fill the space with grandiose bombast. “This is a village fete not a festival,” they moan berating much of the crowd for sitting down, and then later when they ask for help in pushing their broken van seem surprised when no one volunteers. They seem to have forgotten the golden rule of not insulting your audience.

“It’s so hot in here there’s actually sweat dripping off the ceiling. It’s lovely isn’t it?” James Yuill (pictured) questions. His music burns us up as well. With a full booming sound system that gives just the right balance between his punchy laptop synthtopia and acoustic guitar plucking Yuill shows us exactly why we put his album in our Top Ten of 2008. No Pins Allowed, This Sweet Love and Over The Hills are all gloriously pumping, beats diving in all directions. Yet despite the maxed up dance power of his songs the audience prefer to stand and stare. This is the dichotomy for Yuill. His electronic side suits the dance party but his singer songwriter approach, acoustic moments, tie, glasses and general nice lad demeanour are more suited to a folk club. Yuill finds himself in a gap, but he’s building bridges with some aplomb.

Our next performance is a so called ‘secret’ set by Frank Turner on a tiny BBC Leicester stage next to the signing tent, which is announced from the main stage just seconds before he plays. Frank rips his way through two songs Long Live The Queen and Dan’s Song, with his typical acoustic punk passion, one of which Breaking More Waves captured for your viewing pleasure below.

Breaking More Waves first saw St Etienne play live over fifteen years ago and their Summer Sundae set is one of the best we have seen them play in all of that time. The band have discarded the notion of trying to be a proper ‘live’ band, instead adopting an approach similar to the Pet Shop Boys. Much of the music is pre recorded, Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs standing at the back of the stage twiddling knobs and samplers leaving Sarah Cracknell and a single backing vocalist to carry the live weight. And whilst music snobs would criticise this as not being real it gives them a much more focussed and powerful dance sound, with a shimmying feather boa clad Cracknell providing heightened sophistication. Spring is gorgeous sixties pop combined with dub, This Is Tomorrow space age electro that isn’t a mile from the bands younger contemporaries such as Little Boots, and any band that can open with a song so perfect as the sublime Nothing Can Stop Us Now should at least be knighted. Even after all these years St Etienne show exactly how pop music can be uber cool, and they get the picnic blanket brigade dancing.

Its virtually full to capacity for The Airbourne Toxic Event in the De Montfort Hall and from the word go the band excel. The bands debut album did very little for Breaking More Waves, lacking imagination and being full of indie rock clichés. Yet it is exactly these qualities that work so well in the live arena. From the cavalcade of noise that marks their entry, to the soaring violins, chiming guitars, and pounding bass Airborne Toxic Event seem to take tiny elements of every acclaimed commercially successful indie rock band of the last ten years and manufacture their own stomping rock beast from it. As the band sing “Sorry I really lost my head,” on Happiness Is Overrated we almost feel ourselves doing the same. Airborne Toxic Event play with a brooding urgency that’s impossible not to be moved by.

Still with us ? It was a long day, but fear not we’re nearly there.

The Radio 1 / Kanye West effect of Supernova means that the audience for Mr Hudson is full of over enthusiastic teens at the front and he plays up to them coming to the edge of the stage to elicit sexually repressed squeals from the young girls hugging the barrier. Mr Hudson has become a proper pop star. With this of course will come accusations of selling out, but at least the man isn’t ignoring his first album which he announces he was incredibly proud of and recommends the audience buy on I Tunes “It’s probably only two quid the way things are going,” he jokes. There’s plenty of crowd surfing and girls on shoulders and yet with the exceptions of the skanking Too Late Too Late and the mass sing along to Supernova we find the whole thing slightly lacklustre, but then maybe we need a big shot of youthful adrenalin.

Youthful adrenalin is leaking out everywhere for Chipmunk. “Any under 18’s in the house?” he asks. The room erupts. If the Airborne Toxic Event use rock cliché after rock cliché then Chip Diddy Chip does the same for MCing. From his commands to “Put your hands in the air and bounce,” to his blatant self promotion, with numerous mentions of his forthcoming single Oopsy Daisy and “Who’s coming to see Tinchy Strider on tour,” before adding that he’ll be playing as well, Chipmunk is certainly self assured and confident. “Everybody say my name now,” he asks before throwing CD’s out to the audience. There’s lots of “Hey ho, hey ho,” arm waiving and “Who’s gonna buy my album?” requests, and we wonder if maybe a few indie rock bands should watch and learn from Chipmunk. They might actually sell some records then. Diamond Rings is of course the best moment whipping Leicester into a late night storm and then he’s gone. What’s his name ?

Camp Bestival 2009 - Part 3

Saturday. After some early non musical fun and games we head for our first musical adventure on day two. In the Big Top Alessi's Ark are incredibly late, having got stuck in traffic. They arrive just fifteen minutes before their allocated time finishes, set up in what must be the fastest time ever and then race through a very short set. Alessi is full of apologies, apologising for being late and apologising for clashing with Alela Diane on the Castle Stage. The brevity of the set means that the band never really get the chance to settle as they quickly tiptoe through songs such as The Dog and Asteroids Collide, Alessi’s face animated in her expressions, her voice adding a sugar coating to her soft country rock sound.

To display Camp Bestivals musical diversity we jump from Alessis’s Ark to Goldie Lookin' Chain. From chart success with Guns Don’t Kill People Rappers Do, to celebrity Big Brother shenanigans, you could easily be forgiven for thinking that Goldie Lookin’ Chain were no longer a going concern having faded into obscurity. However it seems that Adam Hussain, Maggot, Eggsy and crew are still one big gang, bringing their energetic stage stalking track suited comedy hip hop to a big appreciative crowd. Funny and as puerile as ever GLC tackle everything from Michael Jackson “He’s dead now - he did do some bad things though,” to farting “I put farting powder in Adams coffee,” as they race through a set of tracks old and new. Their tongue in cheek lyrics, colourful leisure wear and comic banter go down well with the audience, with plenty of hands raised in the air (see picture above) Hit singles may now be a thing of the past, but Goldie Lookin’ Chain can probably make some money from a career out of festival appearances such as this for some years to come.

Musical journeyman Frank Turner returns to the UK from touring the States with The Offspring to bring some good old fashioned singer songwriter ideals to the Camp Bestival main stage. Frank seems to spend his whole life incessantly touring, building up a loyal fan base from it. New single The Road, played with jaunty enthusiasm seems to celebrate this fact with its lyrics of fear of staying in one place and the irony of “only being shackled to the road can ever I be free.” Turner is a troubadour with strong principles and his heart on his sleeve, a man who seems like he's grown wiser after taking some kicks, but getting back up again. On the eloquent Long Live The Queen he sings the words of someone who he has lost “You’ll live to dance another day, it’s just now you’ll have to dance for the two of us.” It's poignantly beautiful. There are hints of Billy Bragg in Frank Turner, if Billy if had decided to play acoustic punk rock with a folk twist. Turner is obviously a grafter, and we’re sure that this will pay dividends for him in the long run.

Last year at End Of The Road Festival Bon Iver played the most absorbing and enchanting set we witnessed in 2008. A year on and Justin Vernon, who effectively is Bon Iver has become more accustomed to playing to big crowds, and as a result his set loses some of the humble magic that made it so special a year ago. With a slightly smoother sound and a little bit of chat Bon Iver play through tracks from For Emma, Forever Ago, our album of the year last year, plus a rockier version of Blood Bank and a cover of Yo La Tengo’s I Feel Like Going Home. Skinny Love finds Justin on scratchy guitar and three drummers driving the song home, whilst on Re:Stacks he plays solo, the music meshing with the lyrics to portray exactly how the song sounds “it’s the sound of unlocking and lifting away". Creature Fear ends wrapped in warped noisy derangement and final song Wolves (Act I and II) sees Vernon using the crowd as backing vocals, gradually building in volume as they sing “What might have been lost,” over and over again. It’s good, but it lacks the emotion and awe that we have seen before, although the audience give rapturous applause after every song.

The evening is then left to PJ Harvey to play her headlining set in the Big Top. Earlier this year Harvey astounded us in Brighton (review here). At Camp Bestival she performs a totally different solo show which she states will consist of her own personal favourite songs, performed stripped down, the way they were originally written. From the stunning gutsy blues of opening song To Bring You My Love to the stark ending of Silence the performance feels more like a recital than a euphoric festival set, but it works perfectly. The audience are very respectful listening in almost near silence as Harvey performs everything from well known tracks such as Down By The Water to B Sides such as Nina In Ecstasy which Polly described as “a very small quiet song.” Some songs are played on piano, others on guitar. A new track samples the old tin pan alley song Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by fifties group The Four Lads, looped whilst Polly sings with a bizarre musical minuture harp type instrument. It's an odd yet intriguing piece.

The set confirms Harvey as a major and unique talent, her voice ranging from an unsettling girlish tone to a powerful strong woman. This show had a feel of being something rather special. It may not have been right for those who want a big singalong, clapalong, lowest common denominator headlining set, but for those who want something born out of pure integrity and quality PJ Harvey ticked all the right boxes. A superb way to end a great day.