I headed to Brockwell Park last weekend with more than a fair share of trepidation. Weeks of negative headlines had put the event firmly in doubt; not only the last minute bid by self-appointed and self-interested so-called guardians of the local community to get the whole series of events here called off, but also a growing controversy about Field Day’s owners, Superstruct, recently being taken over by the private equity company KKR - whose other investments include arms companies that supply Israel and companies operating in occupied Palestinian territories. That prompted hundreds of musicians to sign an open letter calling for Field Day to condemn KKR, and when that didn’t come a steady stream of artists started to withdraw from the lineup - including big hitters like Midland, Mall Grab and James Blake. While a statement did eventually arrive from the organisers expressing support for a free Palestine and insisting that the festival remained independent, there was a distinct feeling that irreparable damage may have already been done. So, as I arrived at Herne Hill station on a train surrounded by a group of obnoxiously loud, Dark Fruits-wielding, vape-chugging, borderline feral young ravers, I was certainly fearing the worst.
But, when it comes to festivals, the last quarter of a century has taught me that they have a canny habit of making you have a good time no matter how much you think you won’t - particularly festivals which have consistently given you a great time for so many years. So, not long after picking up a pint from the amazingly extensive craft beer stall and heading into The Green (one of the handful of bizarrely quaint names given to tents at the event) any lingering worries slowly ebbed away as Chloe Robinson delivered the type of expertly constructed, deliciously upbeat set that could have only been improved if it was on much later. It was a real Goldilocks selection - just the right amount of deviation from the techno blueprint to stay interesting for still mainly sober minds, but not too out there to scare off the many still easing themselves into their first outdoor dancing action of the season.
After fuelling up with a legendary Buddha Bowl and making another pitstop for beer (congratulations to Brew By Numbers for delivering the best of five brews I sampled), I took a trek up the hill to the temporary home of the legendary promoter Bugged Out! who had predictably programmed an absolutely stunning lineup. Fatima Yamaha was my first taste of their offering for the day and he certainly didn’t disappoint, weaving an exquisite palate of live electronic noodling fit for chin-stroking connoisseurs for the huge crowd packed like sardines inside the tent. He frankly had them eating out of the palm of his hand, prompting mass singalongs to his most famous riffs in a manner I’ve never witnessed for wordless melodies outside of a darts arena. As enjoyable as it was however, the sheer heat emanating from the rapturous crowd was a bit much for this comfort-seeking old-timer, so I ducked out before the end and made my way back into the refreshing outdoors and down towards the main stage for the first time. There I found Bubble Love - my first encounter with Ross From Friends’ new upbeat, disco-inspired alias. It certainly didn’t disappoint - blasting out a faultless selection of feel-good tunes and crafting the perfect soundtrack for an afternoon festival crowd. As you’d expect, the mixing was impressively precise, with the track choices interesting enough to keep it exciting and accessible for a wide demographic. And any set that ends with Kylie is a certified winner in my book.
As the closing refrain of “On A Night Like This” rang out across the field, I turned on my heels and raced back up the hill for my most eagerly anticipated set of the day from Dixon. Having previously only seen extended sets from the techno legend, I was keen to witness how he dealt with a much shorter slot. The result was absolutely spectacular. He leapt right in, hard and upbeat, not wasting any time to build an atmosphere - but in a manner that didn’t feel at all sudden or jarring. He didn’t let up for a moment, unleashing an unrelenting and joyous aural concoction that pleased and energised in equal delicious measure without a moment’s rest. He stood almost still and imperious throughout, towering imposingly over the decks, occasionally fixing his disciples with his alluring gaze - all while leading everybody assembled there on a sublime journey through the joys of electronica like a Dick Whittington clone sent from a better future.
After that, anything that followed was likely to be a bit of an anticlimax, but I pushed on in search of something to match those heights. First, I set my sights on another legend of the game, Pangaea, down on The Bandstand. He laid down a predictably eclectic and intriguing soundtrack that definitely sat firmly in the chin-strokers camp, which was refreshingly relaxed after the sensory assault that it followed. But despite its obvious quality, it was a set I struggled to get truly into at that time - not helped by the tiny crowd, with many probably not even being aware that he had been added back onto the lineup that morning having previously been among the pull-outs. I decided to cut my losses and head back to where my day started for Modeselektor. Anyone who read my review of Wide Awake for this site last year will know that I’m a huge fan of the duo, so it made sense to try to fill that Dixon-crafted void with the hard hitting, no nonsense Berlin techno heavyweights. They certainly provided what I expected - a pounding palate of blistering beats, carefully curated, and littered with the occasional well-known refrain to toe the line of accessibility needed for a successful festival headline set. But despite that, something just wasn’t quite landing - maybe it was an inability to escape the shadow cast by Dixon’s colossal triumph earlier, maybe it was the slightly bizarre decision of one of the duo to repeatedly walk to the front of the stage and scream into a microphone while an epic drop built, or maybe five hours is now the limit of this middle-aged raver’s fun reserves. But if I’ve learned anything on the dancefloor over the years, it’s that there’s no point in flogging a dead horse until the bitter end if it’s not shifting, so with all the other stages shutting down imminently I made an impulsive and highly unexpected decision to make a final foray to the main stage. As you’d probably guess from the other acts I chose during the day, a Peggy Gou set isn’t usually my bag, but I strode down to the front barrier with an open mind and a willingness to be surprised. While that didn’t happen, I can at least say that it’s clear that she does what she does very well, and thousands of people seemed pretty happy with that. Flanked by two giant silver lucky cat statues, bathed in stark bright stage lighting and surrounded by equally incongruous visuals, electronic music’s greatest fashionista cut a jarringly refined figure - a setup that matched her impressively tight, effortless mixing of thoroughly mainstream dance hits. Sets like this won’t take up permanent residence in the memory of many of those present - in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the details were forgotten by the majority before they even reached the station, barring a lingering sense that a good time was had. But that’s ok, for those that merely require a recollection of seratonin doing its work. We can’t all be Dixon, and life would be boring if we all were. Sometimes it’s ok to just slap on “Freed From Desire”, try to not look too bored as you pack away your headphones bang on your contractually obligated time, let off some rainbow confetti cannons, and ride off into the sunset safe in the knowledge that your inflated reputation remains firmly intact.
And therein lies the real beauty of Field Day. There are few other places that meld such disparate strands of the electronic music continuum on one site, with the more bass-centric stages not even mentioned here. This blissful coexistence and eclecticism is something that should be cherished and celebrated, and I for one hope Field Day successfully navigates its recent problems to continue doing that.
An annual music festival held in London, UK, known for its diverse lineup of electronic, indie, and alternative artists, as well as its focus on cutting-edge and experimental music across multiple stages.
London, England