Review: Field Day Festival

Photograph: Everything Everything

After a ridiculously smooth journey down to London, we arrive at the seventh annual Field Day festival to glorious sun. A great start to the day, and as we’re heading in through Bethnal Green we bump into some friendly locals who will no doubt be thankful this hip festival has made its home in leafy Victoria Park. To say the line-up is eclectic is an understatement, from critically-acclaimed underground noodlers, to pioneers of dance music sounds, to a selection of NME-sanctioned indie & alternative pop, to dancefloor bangers for club-kids and club-grown-ups. And it’s all squeezed into a 12-hour greed-inducing musical melee.

With great music from the off, we plant ourselves straight in the Bugged Out tent for Daniel Avery’s set. The half-empty tent is steadily filled as slow burning house builds skillfully to techno bangers, with the sleazy vocals of “Taste” regularly layered over the top. The majority of the arriving masses are clearly in here for the yet-to-appear Seth Troxler, the vests are a dead giveaway. The atmosphere is electric, but this middle-of-the-road house music doesn’t work for us at this time of day. Music is often about context, and a festival tent can be a strange place to experience dance music. Still, the afternoon ravers love it, a sea of sunglasses and neon fills the space.

It’s a bit of a walk to the opposite end of the festival, and as we pass the Village Mentality area, revellers seem to be punting radishes or something equally rural. You could see the festival as two sites, split along the Village Mentality axis, 8 stages of dance music and fun, indie music and serious experimentation.

We arrive at the Laneway tent in time to hear Chvrches lead singer Lauren Mayberry calling Matt Bellamy of Muse a dick. But rather than some good old-fashioned rock’n’roll beef, Lauren’s just peeved her own mum went to see Muse instead of this: her daughter’s triumphant London festival gig. As the anthemic “Recover” sweeps out across the too-cool-for-school indie crowd the alternative twentysomethings erupt, betraying their studied calm exteriors. Just as quickly, the set closes and the hordes spill out blinking in the sun, all heading off to grab another overpriced drink or chug from their smuggled-in contraband.

Celebrated East London live music venue The Shacklewell Arms host one of the smaller stages, and I manage to catch a late afternoon set from local psychedelic rockers Splashh. The sun is well & truly out, the girls have flowers in their hair, the summer vibes are palpable. Elsewhere, the highly-anticipated Savages seem like that band you’ve seen at every other festival while waiting for your next favourites. Despite going at it like jackhammers, to this writer their set feels a little underwhelming.

Wandering back across the festival site, we pass a game of Tug of War, further evidence of the giant village fete atmosphere. (The girls’ team won.) Arriving at the Desperadoes stage I get the impression this is one I would normally avoid: a heavily beer-sponsored novelty-looking stage. However the grins on the faces inside draw us in. We make camp in the middle of the young crowd, as Lil Silva & Mele tear through future garage and post-dubstep like it’s going out of fashion. Great vibes and a not-taking-yourself-too-serious attitude make this a favourite part of the day. Sticking around long enough to make some new friends (Hi Jade!), we also witness the Night Slugs team of Bok Bok & Girl Unit jamming live on synths & sequencers to great effect.

In the meantime, the Hessle Audio triumvirate of Pearson Sound, Ben UFO & Pangaea are laying down the sub-bass in the Bugged Out arena. Around us, afternoon dancers let loose to the four-to-the-floor, while we chat amongst ourselves and decide the weather should be taken advantage of. So out into the sunshine we go.

Taking another walk across the site, we stop on the way to pick up an excellent empanada from the Venn Street Market stalls. The food selection was cracking, but spilling grease down my shirt was a definite low point. Still, we arrived at the main outdoor stage in time to catch the glorious Everything Everything. Their eccentric pop echoes across the park as we take in the last of the evening sun.

A date with deep(ish)-house(ish) Disclosure called, and we arrive back at the Bugged Out tent to find the largest crowd of the festival spilling outside. Choosing to brave it and dive in, we end up sandwiched between a group of the tallest men on earth and what felt like the entire festival pushing at our backs. From what we could see, Disclosure delivered a solid set. Live drums & bass guitar, vocals delivered with style, topped off with a cracking light show. The girls love it: every one of the Lawrence brothers’ hits and B-sides belted out around us by the inimitable sound of a thousand half-drunk female voices. It all got too much, we escaped to more breathable air.

A need for something a little harder propelled us towards the Bleed & Lanzarote stage for what promised to be a bit of a pounding from techno duo Karenn. Mesmerized by the kickdrums throughout their on-the-fly set, the sound is hard but the vibe is playful. Drum machines & synthesizers jam up against beats & produced tracks from the CDJs. Exciting. Again, probably better suited to a dark sweaty basement rather than early evening in a park as the sun goes down behind us.

Wandering about in a bit of a daze after this onslaught, we stumbled into the last half of an amazing set by Fucked Up. What a cracking way to follow up Karren. Vocalist Damian Abraham screams topless and bearded, or at least that’s the impression I get from the one or two glimpses I catch as he disappears into the friendly mosh-pit, mic cable stretched from the stage like a tightrope. I briefly consider the implications to their punk credentials if he invested in a radio mic, before becoming entranced by the raw power & rhythmic intensity of the Fucked Up sound.

As is the way with festivals, misplaced friends and time constraints mean we missed a good deal of what was on offer towards the end of the day. We hear Django Django ringing out of a nearby tent, but only pause for a moment before heading on to catch about 5 minutes of TNGHT’s bombastic trap, then back across the site for Animal Collective on what is essentially the festival’s main stage. We realise at this point that our day is essentially coming to a close, the nightclubs of Shoreditch are calling. Animal Collective noodling away may have been an amazing afternoon offering, but here it feels a little late. Still the excitement on site remains electric as massive inflatable balls are batted around the park, which seems to be de rigueur for festivals this year. We wander off into the night and towards Bethnal Green, reflecting on a glorious day in the sun with a fantastic bill of music and the most welcoming up-for-it crowd I’ve experienced for a while.

For my northern brothers & sisters, Field Day is basically Parklife without the chavs.

Words: Matt Fawbert

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