Playlouder - Music is the Network

Leicester.  A truly forgettable city.  But once a year it opens up all three of its acres of grassland to the public and plays host to the Summer Sundae Weekender, the family-and-environmentally-friendly music festival held in the back garden of De Montfort Hall.  This event has managed to grow steadily in size since the first one-day, two-stage affair in 2001 whilst still maintaining all the elements that draw the “I'm not really a festival-goer” festival-going crowd.  It has the internet. The toilets are usually clean.  The main site is not too big but well spaced out, and the two campsites are in a large enough field so that it kind of feels like you're in the country if you squint and ignore the sound of passing cars just over the hedge.  

This year's Sundae boasted a WHOLE TENTFULL of real ales, more overpriced world cuisine than you could shake a wooden fork at, a confusing array of recycling bins (surely a paper plate can go in the same bin as a paper cup? But what if it still has some paella on it?) and of course the obligatory smattering of marquees peddling healing crystals, dream catchers and hilarious hats.  And it enjoyed a pretty good line-up, too. 

Friday 

Local chaps Dead Slow (did they win a competition or something?) played early on the Musician's Stage.  The audience might have come for the free fairtrade tea and coffee, but they stayed for some more tea and coffee and ended up hearing these guys.  A bit loud, especially given that they were playing in a slot labeled “acoustic café”, but the musicianship was tight and satisfying and I found my head nodding occasionally between sips of ethically sourced bean water.  To be honest they were the first band I saw and it was a long time ago and I can't really remember what they sounded like, but I'm sure they have a MySpace if you'd like to find out for yourself. 

After I irritatingly missed all but the last few moments of an unannounced Noah and the Whale set in BBC 6Music's 'too-cool-for-a-schedule' area, Fight Like Apes thundered on to the main stage, did their best to disinterest the whole crowd by running through a repertoire of in-jokes, then berated said crowd for not responding positively enough.  When they did eventually play some music I was too busy doing The Guardian crossword to pay much attention. 

Following on from FLA, Royworld indulged in some awkward crowd-work then spluttered into a set that started promisingly.  Swirly, synth-heavy pop ballads that recalled elements of late Roxy Music mixed with chunks of music stolen directly from other 80s bands, namely Buggles (and yeah when I say “Buggles” I do just mean “Video Killed the Radio Star”, OK?) and Kate Bush – the latter being particularly well mined for melody in “Man in the Machine”.  They should have stuck with plagiarising good bands, because it ended up sounding like Bryan Ferry doing an album of The Calling covers. 

Hunched over their laptops, occasionally straightening up to dance and avoid spinal curvature, experimental noise mongers and unnecessarily rudely named duo Fuck Buttons sent out wave after wave of wonderful melodic mess over those gathered to watch them at the Rising Stage.  They stuck toy microphones halfway down their throat and screamed – we cheered!  They wielded an adapted Nintendo Gameboy and made funny sounds come out of it – we reminisced!  These two talented geeks have received glowing praise, and they showed why with a 40 minute set that left everyone exhausted and elated.  Shame I don't feel I can mention them to anyone without swallowing the first syllable. 

Finishing up on the main stage, The Coral and Supergrass paraded their back catalogue of chart hits to the pleasure of all listeners, whether crushed up against the barriers or queuing for a burrito.  They were, as is to be expected, as expected, and after a day full of watching patchy acts everyone appreciated being able to sing along and relax in the safe, comforting arms of well-written well-played pop.  The Coral in particular reminded those that may have forgotten just why they are so big, throwing out beautifully layered harmonies on top of acceptably jangly merseybeat guitar.  He does have a silly haircut, though.