EASTERN ELECTRICS
Knebworth Park | August 2nd-4th
Taking the step from sporadic club nights and sun-soaked one dayers to a full 3 days of festival endeavours; while it seems a perfectly logical step for promoters, it remains a highly ambitious one. With a line up which practically screamed out of the page to party goers and 4/4 aficionados, this resounding success from customary chameleons Eastern Electrics proved they were fully justified in their refusal to sit still.
On Friday’s arrival we ventured into the small, and pleasingly accessible, festival site consisting of two big tops, one where the main Transformer Stage had promised to be but for whatever reason did not materialise, plus three smaller bespoke venues rolled across a long strip of lush greenery complete with a hidden forest. A great deal of the crowd were immediately drawn to The Switchyard stage, enclosed by a circular surrounding of disused shipping containers with elevated platforms and a dance-off stage. Adamant to catch Theo Parrish for his 6pm set, we soon had to tear ourselves away as the maestro warmed up with full on Detroit house and disco flavours, whilst sporting indisputably the bucket hat of the weekend.
Then came Moderat. After some delay, they ambled on to a hyped-up crowd, remaining suitably taciturn themselves. All manner of synths lay synthily in front of them: boxes with lights, blinking away perkily; keyboards with knobs, threatening noise. A soaring, melodic start signalled their main intent – to tear through material from their new album – but as they went on, they made excursions to older tracks, satisfying what seemed to be a fan-filled crowd. Several hundred beaming faces was their (well-deserved) reward.
We caught Dixon midway through his set, and the Innervisions boss was his usual, sensei-like self, blending a few peak-time rattlers with ‘more challenging’ material (lesser-known, more atonal but still extremely danceable techno, basically); precision and grace from the side-parted German.
While Levon Vincent’s warming New York flavours filled the Substation, it was the addition of Man or Mistress that built it to fever pitch. Our favourite stage, however, quickly became Igloovision. A round tent with a 360 visuals, it came kitted-out with four Funktion Ones, ensuring enveloping (but not abrasive) sound. The man of the day was DJ Koze, standing brazen in his iconic coat and goggles like an intrepid explorer as a self-assured smirk crept the length of his face. A two hour education, he ended with Jon Hopkins’ magnum opus Open Eye Signal, transforming it with all kinds of fades and switches acting as a conduit to the song’s inherent beautiful chaos. Smug, he swaggered off to rapturous applause. He knows he’s that good.
Dave Clarke seemed his usual dour-on-the-outside, loving-it-on-the-inside self, kitted-out in (what else) a black coat and jeans. Nodding along smile-lessly to thumping techno, Clarke showed-up the earlier acts, giving us a tour through the more relentless side of the spectrum.
As the night came to a close we unfortunately stumbled upon Blawan, standing demure against an uncompromising palette that fell on a tuned down system at 5am. Venturing to the switchyard where the Dirtybird showcase had been dominating proceedings for the past few hours, Eats Everything played out his usual bass soaked charisma as the sun came up on the stage that became a firm favourite for many throughout the course of the weekend.
The soon-to-be omnipresent Gotham by Ten Walls greeted us as we entered the main stage on Saturday night, with Frank Wiedemann of Âme doing a decent job of out-Dixoning Dixon. Flawless mixing, track selections from the ever-expanding analogue house/techno continuum, and some restrained FX tweaking made this one of the best sets of the weekend.
Back at the Igloo, an undoubted weekend highlight was Roman Flugel’s take on the mind-bending space, from futuristic Italo disco he delved into the type of kaleidoscopic acid odyssey that has come to characterise his sound. It’s no great surprise the man used to call himself Acid Jesus.
This was also the perfect setting for Planetary Assault Systems, Luke Slater’s most famous incarnation and probably the most intense live electronic experience out there. Clips from sci-fi films whirled above our heads, Detroit pads soared and dipped in surround sound, and Slater occasionally departed from his laptop to urge on the crowd whenever he was about to release the percussion. 15 years hasn’t dampened his enthusiasm, and the crowd responded with endearing Coordinated Techno Fist-Pump action.
But Saturday’s headliner was Richie Hawtin, and the majority of the day-ticket holders (let’s call them “day walkers”) were there mainly to see him. A suitably epic intro, with gallons of dry-ice and a shifting stage heralded his entrance, and Hawtin immediately launched into M-nus style thumpers. The arena was packed with all of Eastern Electrics various style tribes, all sardined-together to appreciate one of the dance music world’s very best.
As Sunday crept into life, the avuncular Chez Damier looked slightly out of place in the industrially-staged Switchyard, but the music won us over nonetheless – Detroit house, disco, jazz keys and bleeding-gums saxophone solos. Damier smiled on beneficently as more and more of the final day’s weary attendees re-charged their disco batteries and readied themselves for more.
After a chance meeting with him at The Switchyard, we headed to the Just Jack stage for a set from Detroit nu-breed Kyle Hall. Unapologetically storming through penetrating acid and lo-fi bangers, including grainy birthday track Skeeter! to some truly devoted listeners supporting from their last legs, Hall’s nonchalant immediacy brought a refreshing rawness to the palette of the weekend.
Such was the rich choice of closing sets on Sunday we opted to boozily run between them all. We caught about 15 minutes of Gerd – 90s house, some disco edits, consummately-mixed – before catching some of Masters At Work on the main stage. A crowd had formed behind them, dancing with unguarded abandon to a slick set of recognisable tracks from their extensive back catalogue. Then we headed to the Star of EE, where Skream pulled off an impressively accomplished disco set, and undoubtedly won over a raucous crowd by finishing on the full 20+ minute version of Ain’t No Mountain High Enough. Then, finally, bed.
Curiously orange, muscle-bound & shirtless men; preening Dalstonites with very expensive (later mud-covered) Nike Airs; fabulous glitter- and lycra-clad queens; nervous-looking first-timers; neon-bound old-timers; university students carefully projecting nonchalance; grizzled music hacks. All these different groups, and more, decided to go to a large country estate north of London to listen to dance music. The music was excellent, the sound was above-par and the vibes were strong. Older heads constantly and wistfully reminisce about the feeling of community raves of the 90s had, compared with which today’s festivals apparently come up short. Events like Eastern Electrics show the love remains strong, and long may it continue.
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Words: Anna Tehabsim + Rob Bates
Photos: Mark Sethi
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