The fashion accessories of choice last weekend at Longitude were booze-smuggling binoculars and Keds. Vampire Weekend captured that mix of hip and hops perfectly. There were butterflies, bubbles and a roll of toilet paper flying over a happily buzzing crowd when the lads launched into the energising A-Punk. We chanted "'Ey, 'ey, 'ey, 'ey" with gusto, feeling like festival mode had hit fifth gear.
Django Django found a similar groove on Friday, Derry dude Vincent Neff greeting the crowd with a heartfelt "dia daoibh". Hot Chip provided unapologetic electro-pop fun and, on a sunny afternoon, a little bit of a bop never goes astray.
The pedigree of the acts on the bill couldn't be argued with, but where Villagers were musically marvellous, the atmosphere at the mainstage dropped considerably during their set – it just wasn't the right place and time for them. Foals and Phoenix put in solid sets on Friday, but neither set the night on fire; Foals' tour manager conceded that the boys were a bit tired.
Kraftwerk, Sunday night's headliner, divided punters. They were always going to be a slow, cerebral burner, not providing any explosive moments, but plenty of opportunity for rhythmic chin-stroking and appreciative nodding. The 3-D chicanery did add an interesting element to proceedings, but it felt like we were being sedated before being sent home, rather than whipped into a festive frenzy.
The setting and scene for this shindig was picture-perfect. MCD and Festival Republic pulled out all the stops on the organisational front; it was pretty slick. Temporary bridges across streams and ponds, an army of helpful security, great stages (the Live Project stage looking particularly good and hopping for Gold Panda and TEED) and atmospheric woodland paths leading to great spaces, all created a perfect setting for a swinging session.
PEES AND QUEUES
There was a blip that applied pressure to ladies' bladders at Longitude, but this was addressed by importing more portaloos on Sunday. You couldn't bring any drink with you, which never sits well, but not being allowed to bring any food either was taking the piss with more efficiency than the ladies' lav block. Timetables were being sold at the gate for a fiver a pop; this doesn't sit well with me either. After shelling out for a ticket, surely a timetable, map and permission to bring a ham sandwich could be thrown into the deal?
One of the joys of festivalling is hitting upon some decent acts that you've never caught before; Matt Corby, Marcus Foster and Young Wonder did that job for me nicely. The Minutes rocked out and packed out the Woodlands stage with a thumping, electrifying set, playing outta their skins. The Speakeasy tent began flat but picked up momentum as the weekend went on and the crowds picked up. Hula-hooping burlesque in the woods will always get my festival vote – bravo, shir!
This was a really good festival, but I couldn’t help but feel there was something missing. Possibly not having camping on site meant that people didn’t throw themselves fully into the festival experience. It might have been the fluctuating energy/intensity levels from the line-up. One person suggested to me it was a lack of drugs (the young fella masturbating in the woods, out of his bin on Ketamine, scuppered this argument somewhat) or maybe it was just that we’re just not used to so much sun. Unlike the woodland fiddler, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
It's no secret that the organisers of Longitude have put in an application to run a festival on the same site over the August bank holiday weekend next year. The site can easily be expanded and part of me feels that Longitude was a couple of massive commercial festival concerns testing the water for bigger things to come in Marlay Park. I suggest you watch that space.
Safe travels, don't die.
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