Stop Making Sense
Tisno, Croatia | August 1-4
Whoever had the bright idea of constructing The Garden in Tisno has not only succeeded in creating a man-made bay structure feel as idyllic and natural as one could possibly hope, they’ve also crafted a perfect balance between partying and holidaying in veritable bliss.
So, after jumping on the Argonaut boat for the FACT party on Thursday evening with the continually ascending, PMR affiliated artist T.Williams, we set sail into sunsets with a hip-hop soundtrack provided by Tom Lea. A foray into classic 90s rap was exactly what we craved as we sat up on top deck and sucked in the anticipation for the weekend. And following Lea’s excellent decision to drop a certified Juicy J club banger, Mr Williams blasted through a much-appreciated bomblast of yesteryear UK garage to a rapturous response.
There’s a beautiful pace of life at The Garden which is wholly reflective of the late-start, intelligent programming that allows the punters to languish in the crystal clear waters or re-fuel. Whether it be diving from the jetty or aimlessly floating around the enclosed bay in an inflatable seat, the relaxation level here matched the partying and thank god. Croatia is not the new Ibiza, and for that reason Crack felt sunned, refreshed and like life was a whole load more palatable upon our return. And SMS’s soundtrack played a large part.
After dancing round the beach stage to a set of progressive, emotive electronica from John Talabot, we meandered our way to Barbarellas, the out-of-town nightclub in the middle of nowhere that caters for the Garden’s night time needs. Outdoor and open-air, there’s a real Ibizian terrace feel to the venue which also contains a whole load of beds for those who’re taking a break from the dance floor. Treats in this space are supplied in ample portions over two nights with current Crackcast mix star San Soda proving once again he’s a name on the rise with a set of sleazy house and disco. On Friday night, we returned to see a rejuvenated Steve Bug pushing a new strand of tougher upfront house sounds than we’d ever seen him deploy before. Having straddled the remit of wired, wonky techno for sometime, Bug’s set was a musically astute, staying true to the blueprint he laid down within minutes of coming on. It was a fitting climax to a night spent embracing 4/4 with a notable subsidy of low end heft. At the Beach Bar earlier in the evening, Appleblim funneled his encyclopediac knowledge of leftfield beats into an accessable, groove-focused set and Midland flaunted of his trademark bass-driven house sound as the dancefloor filled up and the technicolour prisms of the stage’s lighting reflected off the surface of the ocean.
Saturday morning arrives, and some of our team are flagging, especially those who’ve flown here straight from Ibiza or Eastern Electrics. But this is Stop Making Sense, so while at many festivals you’d spend your morning trying to re-hammer your loose tent pegs with an un-opened tin of baked beans, here we got to recover on the beach and then head into Tisno’s town centre to grab some food. ‘If you have any complaints, please don’t tell everyone, just tell us’, it says in the menu at the good times friendly, affordable joint we chose. Fortunately, we had no complaints, although the ingredients of their seafood pasta dish remains something of a mystery. A few Malibu and pineapple juices later, we’d have been content with forming a conga line to Mambo No.5, however we returned to festival site to catch Prins Thomas’ astro-disco set before heading over to the Woods stage to check out Sebo K. The Mobilee stalwart appeared to be playing a tougher set than usual, to the desired effect of making the crowd go totally nuts. It was possibly the most kinetic audience response of the weekend, and it was definitely the first time we’d seen crowd surfers at a tech-house set.
We boarded the Argonaut once again for our very own Crack party on the final day. Our residents Pardon My French warmed up with some down-tempo Balearic grooves as the boat’s engine got going. In anticipation of Radio Slave’s arrival, the duo delved into some techier material, with the crowd pleasing Carl Craig remix of LCD Soundsystem’s Sound of Silver being thrown out mid set. Not one to cause a scene, Radio Slave began following us on a speedboat, and climbed on board just in time for his hard hitting set that was epitomized by Matthew Dear’s hyperactive Audion cut Mouth To Mouth.
The climax to our weekend took place at Barbarellas, where –as predicted – Âme and Dixon’s back to back set proved to be festival’s most euphoric experience. With pretty much every weekend ticket holder present to watch the sunrise, the Innervisions pair roamed deep territory with a set that juggled obscurities and era defining anthems such as Ten Walls’ Gotham.
With the sun fully risen, we released it was time to peel ourselves away and head to the airport. We’re exhausted, of course, but the aftermath wasn’t as brutal as we’d have expected after a marathon party session, because with an uncrowded, niche line-up and an unspoilt location, the vibe of Stop Making Sense is refreshingly serene. And if the organisers can preserve this unique charm, then there’s no doubt that we’ll be back at The Garden next summer.
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Words: Thomas Frost & David Reed
Photos: Anomalous Visuals
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