Chic at Forbidden Fruit on 2nd June 2013-1-62-banner

Words: Stephen Byrne and Elizabeth McGeown

There was a noticeable increase in attendance on day two of Forbidden Fruit. The main stage Sunday mentality soon set in, with a host of people plonking themselves down on the hill for the duration, putting their ‘impress me’ faces on while they waited for the main attractions of Chic and Primal scream.  However, there were more than a few hardcore music fans wandering around the rest of the site – some definitely looking a little worse for wear it has to be said – braving the excessive heat to seek out lesser known, but equally compelling acts on the other stages. Once again Irish acts didn’t disappoint with I Am The Cosmos and Solar Bears doing themselves proud on the main stage. Here are a few of our choice selections from the final day…

Chic

Nile Rodgers funkadelic disco jukebox was the undoubted highlight of the entire festival. Chic are quite possibly the tightest band on this or any other planet, with each member a true virtuoso on their chosen instruments. The band blasted through the highlights of their career and other disco classics such as Sister Sledge’s Lost in Music. However, Rodgers is eager to stress that they are not a covers band as they play through the hits they have written for other artists such as Madonna’s Like a Virgin and Duran Duran’s Notorious.

As the show progresses it is truly astonishing to realise how many songs Rodgers has either written or produced for other artists. It becomes easier to fathom how Rodgers has played on $2 billion worth or record sales in his career to date. Chic’s rendition of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance was a spiritual experience  the highlight of Chic’s set and indeed the entire festival – as a capacity crowd bounced and sang along in unison. It even had the on-looking Edge dancing. The last hurrah of Good Times seguing expertly into the Sugar Hill Gang’s Rappers Delight saw Rodgers introduce the band to the strains of his latest hit Get Lucky by Daft Punk before leaving the stage to rapturous applause. Even the late great James Brown would find it hard to beat Chic. Simply superb.

 

I Am The Cosmos

I Am The Cosmo kicked off day two of Forbidden Fruit on the main stage. The 2:30pm kick off meant that there weren’t many people around but those that were lucky enough to venture in early were treated to a master class in ’80s leaning bouncy happy/sad electro. The duo of Ross Turner and Cian Murphy were joined by additional musicians ensuring that everything was recreated as live as possible during their impressive set of material from their début album ‘Monochrome.’  The influence of the Human League, New Order, Talk Talk and The Cure permeates their catalogue of songs, creating a serene yet funky palette of sounds which are counterbalanced by the bleakness of the group’s forlorn vocals which echo Ian Curtis on songs such as Look Me In The Eyes. On the basis of this performance I Am The Cosmos have the sound, the look, and the material to force themselves to the fore in Ireland’s thriving Electro scene. With songs like Take What You Want and Lost Rhythm it’s only a matter of time before they arrive.

 

Mykki Blanco

Micheal Quattlebaum Jr. aka Mykki Blanco is an hilarious, cross-dressing, American rapper and poet but, above all else, a born entertainer. A highly sexualised Blanco strides the stage freestyling from persona to persona at breakneck pace. One second he personifies camp the next he embodies the macho street edifice you’d expect from a street rapper. When Blanco sings I Wanna Be Loved By You half Betty Boop-half Marilyn Monroe, it’s funny. When he straddles a microphone stand and makes love to it, it’s hilarious. Mykki Blanco’s set was captivating because you couldn’t tell what he was going to do next. In a world of stale rappers and pantomime gangsters, Mykki Blanco is one of the few pushing the boundaries of the art form and bringing any danger to the table.

 

Rainy Milo

There’s a full sound spilling from the Undergrowth stage – curated by Bodytonic today. It’s a good weather sound; a gritty London soul female vocal over some laid back drums, minimalist jazz piano and a belly-tugging bass, that calls us to visit. Imagine our surprise when we call in to find only two people on stage; the drummer, and Rainy Milo herself. Despite this, she’s utterly watchable, all undulating hips and streetwise style, taking us through what could be a great summer album. If she were on an outdoor stage it would be the perfect background to a lazy day. Unfortunately clashing with Solar Bears a mere handful watch her, trying to make their applause loud enough to fill the tent. A full band set-up, with perhaps a brass section, should see her stage show rocket to a main stage.

 

Trust

To grab a crowd at a festival you need a unique selling point. Canadian band “Don’t call us an Austra side-project” Trust have such a selling point. They have something that every band needs but so few have: a charismatic leader. Robert Alfons is a terrifying frontman. Clad in a little black dress, he shakes his head and affects all sorts of poses as if rehearsing for a photoshoot. Between making eyes at the audience he finds time to sing, revealing a seeming ability to speak in tongues. A monstrous Hammer Horror of a voice pours forth from his pouting lips, growling gutteral sweet nothings to us, before startlingly switching an octave here and there to reveal a sweet alto. Trust are a Goth band whether they know it or not, with the heaviest synths you’ll hear this side of industrial trance as Alfons croons us a seductive warning. An exciting prospect.

 

Woodkid

Not many sets begin with short, sharp bursts of doom brass, the sound of impending disaster approaching from the blacked out stage. It’s French-born Yoann Lemoine’s  AKA Woodkid  first Dublin show and if you haven’t heard of him, he’s going to blast them into submission. The visuals are as severe as the noise assault: stony-faced sentries face each other, moving only to bang drums hanging from the ceiling as if banging a gong to announce a visitor. It’s perhaps a touch reminiscent of the Blue Man Group. Percussion is everywhere and the audience responses are as bombastic. Images of mountains and cathedral interiors appear on the backdrop, alien landscapes mixing with clouds and all instilling a sense of awe.

It’s probably not the saddest music you’ll ever hear, but you’d be forgiven for thinking it is in the heat of the moment. It’s the school of film scoring: every bar is epic and makes you feel. It tugs on the heartstrings while making you uneasy and, when he breaks the fourth wall and makes eye contact with the audience, he could incite them to insurrection, casting himself as the rabid revolutionary and the audience as the proletariat. He spoils the picture somewhat by sporadically grinning at the audience, but he provides such sheer sonic beauty here that a little giddiness is permitted.

 

Everything Everything

Even we have to admit that listening to the first Everything Everything record can be challenging. So much happens in such a short space of time that sensory overload makes us feel like we’re running a race, and as for predicting what will happen next musically? Forget it. Behind that craziness on recordings lies a real discipline; their creativity honed to perfection. Jonathan Higgs’ louche insouciance and deft falsetto the perfect hipster front for one of the most intelligent acts around, their intelligence prompting them to make second release ‘Arc’ slightly more accessible and more singalong. This is no bad thing on a sunny day in June.

It gives Higgs more room to breathe physically and creatively, which the audience respond to. Their live show also proves that you don’t need to be Fleet Foxes to execute a perfect three-part ghostly male harmony. There’s no studio jiggery-pokery involved in tuning these vocals. A slick, cheekboned delight.

 

Primal Scream

Given it meant following Chic, headlining a festival has never before been such a short straw. Bobby Gillespie and Co rose to it well regardless, playing like they had nothing to lose. Their set was captivating in its own, sleazy rock and roll way. Gillespie’s wiry frame is still as captivating as ever as he shimmys across the stage belting out Country Girl  his voice in fine form and his spirit seemingly reinvigorated by Primal Scream’s latest album ‘More Light’; their best since ‘Screamadelica.’

And it was from these two entities that most of the highlights were drawn. Moving On Up still entrals twenty years, on as does Loaded, which is dedicated to the on looking Shane MacGowan. Goodbye Johnny reeks of sleazy gangster tremolo and horn parts perfect for a Vincent Vega killing spree, while the middle eastern tinged River of Pain displays their versatility. Swastika Eyes showcases Primal Scream’s darker, electro side through a hail of strobe lighting before the extended spaced out gospel of Come Together brought the festival to a close in considerable style.

Forbidden Fruit 2013- Sunday – Photo Gallery

Photos: Aisling Finn