Wireless Festival - the inthenews.co.uk review
Wireless Festival - the inthenews.co.uk review
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Greg Ash finds the dance duo are the perfect closing act for a perfect summer's evening. |  |
Tuesday, 07, Jul 2009 04:14
Greg Ash and Lewis Bazley on two sun-drenched days of music in the capital.
Saturday
To the man who gave me half his pizza, I salute you. It's got to be the sun, but the atmosphere at Wireless on Saturday is great. An eclectic line-up featuring the Streets, St Etienne, Sneaky Soundsystem and Basement Jaxx is mirrored by a mixed crowd. They're all here, from the London lads in their Chelsea shirts to the Scenesters in their boat shoes, and the girls dressed in ridiculous fancy dress. Given the heat, Wireless today is literally a melting pot. But the vibe is good, and there's some very good acts on show.
A tranquil, yet pleasing set from St Etienne is the perfect soundtrack for relaxing in the sun, as we conserve our energy for the more hectic sets to follow. An intensive 45 minutes from Digitalism in the sweltering Second Stage tent gets the pulses racing. The tent is then swarmed by even more people for the appearance of the Streets. Confined to an enclosed area, rather than the main stage, Mike Skinner's vocals sound great, despite being bombarded with bottles by a pumped-up crowd. Dry Your Eyes has every one singing, mobile phones held aloft.
Next up I decide its time to try something new, venturing up to the Tuborg tent to sample N.A.S.A., the space-inspired funk and soul project. Despite deserving credit for most inventive dancer costumes (a trio of choreographed aliens), I am largely underwhelmed, with this sounding like an average DJ set, rather than an act in their own right. The sense of fun is well meant though, and seems to grace the whole festival. It's only the scenesters who are taking themselves too seriously. Afrika Bambaataa certainly know how to enjoy themselves, and their outrageous costumes and infectious beats slowly start to win over a static crowd.
Despite the raft of good acts on other stages, the focus is now fully on the Main Stage. Out steps local boy Dizzee Rascal, a man who knows a bit about not taking yourself too seriously. No longer just a 'grime' artist, Dizzee's slowly compiling a growing list of crowd-pleasers to his repertoire. His vocals sound as sharp as ever, with outstanding track Bonkers a perfect example of his ability to transcend genres. His set comes to a joyous end with Dance Wiv Me, paving the way for Basement Jaxx to ramp up the energy levels still further. A sharp set, with classics Romeo and Where's Your Head At? still sounding great, and a sprinkling of new material that suggests at an exciting new direction for the band. It is their motley bunch of costumed dancers who are most impressive, bouncing round the stage with seemingly boundless energy and enthusiasm. As the sun sets behind Hyde Park, this crazy pantomime unfolding on stage seems a fitting way of uniting this eclectic crowd into one euphoric mass.
Greg Ash
Sunday
After five days at Glastonbury the weekend previous, arriving in Hyde Park after the short Tube journey to Wireless is a jolt to the system. Everything that can be branded, is, with Dominos, Gaymers and Tuborg tents, while Barclays adverts playing on a loop between acts and the crowd that can be divided into four easy-to-remember segments; i)music snobs, ii)rude boys iii)tweens iv)WAG-wannabes.
The above sounds like I had a rubbish time and saw the second day of Wireless as an exemplary representation of all that's gone wrong with British festival culture. But I didn't and I don't. Yes, it's even worse than V in terms of catering to those who want to go to a festival but don't really want any of that nasty camping or dirt, thank you very much, but with glorious weather, a cannily-designed area and a bill full of chart-friendly hip-hop, dance and R 'n' B, Wireless provided a brilliant opportunity to make hay while the sun shone.
An unmistakeable aroma - and I don't mean the Dominos pizzas - lazed through the air as that indomitable urban trio N-Dubz took the stage and left even the most sceptical of observers of their mp3 phone-friendly R 'n' B impressed by their professionalism. While Tulisa is a poised and powerful singer, ringleader Dappy - clad in a beanie, rather than his usual flapped headgear - is a terrier of a frontman, with the same incorrigible cheekiness of Dizzee Rascal and a confidence that belies his small stature. Achieving platinum sales with a debut album is no mean feat and with this north London three-piece building a passionate fanbase off their own back, the rapturous reception for Ouch, Strong Again and the surprisingly moving Papa (Can You Hear Me) made a great deal more sense than Dappy's rallying call of "na-na-nai".
Calvin Harris might have superseded N-Dubz' success in the singles chart with recent smash I'm Not Alone - as well as proving he's a dab hand at pop culture satire after producing this response to a depressingly awful interview request after his Wireless set - but failed to replicate their crowd control. While the entirety of the field seemed to throw up digits as N-Dubz raced through Number 1, Harris' chart-friendly rave fails to move anything other than the front rows until he pulls out Acceptable in the 80s. Girls and I'm Not Alone are well received but the Scot - as attuned to modern dance as he is - needs to give up those dreams of being a pop singer and get back behind the keyboard, tossing bangers generously throughout his set-list, rather than leaving the audience waiting impatiently.
The composition of the crowd is the only possible criticism to level at a brilliant Q-Tip, whose exemplary hip-hop is wasted on a field filled with people who consider Flo Rida a rapper and for whom Grandmaster Flash sounds like a bathroom cleaner. For those with an appreciation of Tip's history and contribution to modern rap, this set of "real hip-hop s**t" is mann from heaven, with a throbbing bass and DJ Scratch's ADD-turntables layered over smooth, speedy rhymes from the man with the mic. Breathe & Stop and Can I Kick It? are surprising omissions - and might have won over a disappointingly static crowd - but Vivrant Thing and a storming Check the Rhyme prove that after more than 20 years in the game, Q-Tip's still at the top of the league.
Sunday night headliner Kanye West has always shown the potential to surpass the achievements of his forefathers and the ambition and daring shown on last album 808s and Heartbreak is commendable. Unfortunately, as West's confidence has grown, so has the distance between his onstage persona and his fanbase, between the grinning up-and-comer of The College Dropout and the design-obsessed egomaniac of 808s. Even in front of his most dedicated fans, opening a show with Coldest Winter, a mournful effort about the death of his mother, would be a risky enough venture, so to pull out its self-pitying refrain for a crowd who know his anthems and little more seems hugely foolhardy. Our attention's swayed by the multi-layered, gold foil effect stage, as well as a quartet of scantily clad dancers/models, but with the likes of Touch the Sky, All Falls Down and Good Life given 90-second outings in favour of a six-minute Say You Will in an 808s-dominated set, there's a feel of deflation, not excitement in the air. He wins the crowd back with Diamonds From Sierra Leone, Jesus Walks and Stronger, but it's a sadly sombre close to an otherwise sun-drenched, dance-filled weekend.
Lewis Bazley.