Beacons

Funkirk Estate, Yorkshire | August 16-18th

FRIDAY

We needn’t harbour any doubts about the dedication behind this Yorkshire festival given the biblical volumes of rain that led to the cancellation of its inaugural outing just two years ago. Many feared Beacons purged from the earth after such a ruinous hiccup, but Crack knows better – as do the 7,000 attendees at this year’s third term of tenure at the idyllic Heslaker Farm in Skipton.

The perpetually awesome 4/4 bastion Move D is the first to reward us for our faith, amorously toying with his minions over in the Resident Advisor tent for an early evening gorgeathon of his house/disco inklings. Over in the Loud and Quiet tent, Friday’s headliner Bonobo has less luck, struggling to calibrate his instrumentally transcendental oeuvre to the tin-pot PA system. His band make every effort to compensate – as does guest vocalist Andreya Triana – who just ends up sounding like a muffled cast-away pleading for salvation behind a quiver of fragmented bass. Friday climaxes finishes with John Talabot unleashing swathes of cuts from his exquisite 2012 album Fin in contrast with more ardent 4×4 instantly gratuitous leanings, transfiguring the hipsterific mid-night mass into an anamorphous unit of fist pumping adulation.

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Words: Joshua Nevett

SATURDAY

First to soundtrack Saturday’s torrentially rainy afternoon was none other than the twee gone gawky grungers Wolf Alice. They’ve stirred up a reputation for rawkus shows, but the charm of Ellie Roswell’s vocals is lost on stage, and jubilant tunes like Bros come off as nothing more than plain, slapdash indie rock. Donned with floral prints and shaggy hair, Parisian chanteuse Melody Prochet, ie, Melody’s Echo Chamber steps things up with some much needed vivaciousness, as the charming vocals of I Follow You permeate the packed-out tent with an essence of goosebump-raising bliss while a glimmer of sunshine appears outside.

Later we decide the best way to spend Saturday evening is among the care-free, two-stepping, flailing party-goers residing over at Resident Advisor’s tent. The Bondax brothers unleash one of the least pretentious sets of the weekend, dropping Lil Kim classics and Navy Shade’s Oh My Love among their own infectiously catchy, dance-floor tailored tunes. Bicep duo Andrew Ferguson and Matthew McBriar bring the vitality-levels to boiling temperatures as a vintage blast of Inner City gets bodies intertwining. Heck, even Hessle Audio honcho Ben UFO opts for hands-in-the-air euphoria with diva-tinged vocal and piano keys thanks to Robert Hood’s Floorplan track Never Grow Old transferring like a bone fide classic. One of the most engaging artists we witness all weekend is Machinedrum, who kicks off his two-hour set at the perfect pitch time of midnight. Brazen with his freshest workings, including a head-spinning BPM elevation of Eyesdontlie and plenty of post-jungle workouts, his set inspires a ridiculous amount of people to clamber on shoulders.

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Words: Leah Connolly

SUNDAY

And lo, with the lingering fug of Saturday night compromising all good intentions to hit the smaller stages early (wholly worth it for Machinedrum though) we wander through the noticeably more heaving festival site for in search of lunch (Patty Smith cheeseburger, good stuff) and something to nod quietly to. The relentless, tent-rattling bluster may not have quite ceased, but the defiant sun compliments Floating Points’ jazz-inflected set. The Eglo Records co-founder—widely considered one of the more cerebrally satisfying DJs currently working—sates, but not exceeds, expectations, and we leave for the Social and Iration Steppas. The Leeds crew are down to two members this afternoon (and, alas, sans live bass), but are hugely satisfying, and a nice break from the straight 4/4 theme that dominates much of the weekend’s grooves, despite their dubwise throb suffering slightly with the lack of straight, bassweight volume, a problem which carries over to Channel One Sound System afterwards. This, as well as the ludicrously early curfews each night, presents the only noticeable—though hopefully correctable—blight on Beacons as a whole.

We arrive at the Resident Advisor tent for the culminating power-session that is Theo Parrish‘s closing slot, and tonight the infamously ornery veteran actually looks overjoyed. Rampantly soulful classic house and funk excursions from a deeply respected selector turns out, as if we doubted it, to be a more than appropriate way to end the weekend.

It’s impressive enough that Beacons has sustained itself after its first-year cancellation and a 100% increase in size from last year, but it’s genuinely pleasing to see a festival totally fulfil the potential shown through nuanced curation, extremely well-considered partnering, a bucolic setting, atypically low cost and a genially chilled atmosphere.

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Words: Tom Howells