Forbidden Fruit, Part 4 – Music Sounds Better Without You

The fourth and final part of my account of my attendance at the Forbidden Fruit festival.

If I did not have a ticket for both days I would not have gone back on Sunday, but as it was we decided to head down early to catch the Trinity Orchestra (i.e. the student orchestra of Trinity College Dublin) performing the album Discovery by Daft Punk. This rather did what it said on the tin, and was a big bag of fun. They may have cheated a bit by having a proper drum kit and electric guitars and bass, but it still was entertaining to hear those uplifting dance tunes played by different instruments. They also had people (perhaps from the Choral Society) doing vocals, both lead and backing. Of these I particularly loved the bloke doing the high vocals to 'One More Time' and then the closer 'Too Long' (for which he was joined by another bloke on high vocals). They also had a woman singing 'Digital Love', who was endearingly mad for it.

So basically, Trinity Orchestra = total awesomeness. I hope they do this Discovery show again sometime*. Maybe they could broaden their repertoire slightly and throw in Stardust's 'Music Sounds Better With You' or some tracks from the JUSTICE album as encores. But whatever they do, they're fine by me and were definitely worth trekking up to Kilmainham for.

After them, however, there was nothing on I wanted to see until the evening. And even the things on in the evening (Caribou, Battles, the Aphex Twin) were acts I would like to see, but I would not like to see them at Forbidden Fruit. So I cut my losses and went off with my beloved to have afternoon tea in Café Notto (catching them just before their erratic closing times) and then came home. After a bit we went out for a nice Indian meal, a far more pleasant way of spending the evening than enduring whatever questionable delights Forbidden Fruit had to offer us.

Looking back on Forbidden Fruit, I find myself feeling all nostalgic about Indietracks – a festival not full of wankers and run by people who have given some thought towards what makes for a good festival experience. Who knows, maybe I will be crawling back there again next year. I won't be crawling back to Forbidden Fruit.

* They did, but I was going to Richard Thompson that night.

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Forbidden Fruit, Part 3 – Some Positivity

this is episode 3 of my account of the ghastly Forbidden Fruit festival

After Yo La Tengo I was seriously thinking of just cutting my losses and heading home for a nice sherry or a warming cup of cocoa, but my beloved persuaded me to stay on for the headliners, who were admittedly the main reason I had come down to Forbidden Fruit in the first place. And these people were… The Flaming Lips, a band I had basically not seen since their tour after the first Bowlie Weekender (or maybe I also saw them at an early ATP). Back then, they were a somewhat avant-garde indie rock band, sometimes associated with Mercury Rev, who were beginning to achieve some recognition on the back of bizarre live shows and the sheer attritional force of a band that will not stop plugging away. Since then, the Flaming Lips had become surprisingly popular and were now almost a default festival headliner band, largely on the strength of a truly spectacular live show. My beloved persuaded me that this was something we had to see – that no matter how squalid Forbidden Fruit was, we had to bear the horror and stay to see the elephant.

I appreciate that, at this stage of the game, I am basically the last person in the world to see the Flaming Lips spectacular live show, so maybe I do not need to say too much about it. Still, something must be said. It is… spectacular. They come on through a door on a screen on which super-bright images are projected, while the audience is bathed in strobe lights. The sides of the stage are filled with randomers dressed as characters from The Wizard of Oz. Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips gets into a giant ball and rolls across the audience. Balloons, confetti, and various other objects are blasted in the vague direction of the audience. Basically, this is the thing to show anyone who moans about how today's bands don't know how to put on a show*. The Flaming Lips had me grinning like a lunatic and seemed to, briefly, create a sense of genuine audience community. I fact, I actually had a pleasant conversation with a stranger who asserted that she was the actual giant woman on the screens behind the Flaming Lips (she had changed her hairstyle in the meantime, apparently).

And the music? You do hear people saying that for all the Flaming Lips amazing visual treats, the actual music is a bit pedestrian. I cannot agree to this, it still sounds way more avant-garde to me than anything you would normally get headlining a festival for trend people. OK, so they are not Boredoms, but it is intriguing that this kind of music can still find something approximating to a mass audience. That said, they do occasionally drift off into bland ballad territory (e.g. that dreadful 'Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots' song) but they soon come back to something off the wall.

I am surprisingly unfamiliar with the Flaming Lips on record, but they did play some songs I know. Sadly, not so much from the recent album Embryonic, so we did not get to join in with the animal noises on 'I Can Be A Frog'.

Still, all good things come to an end. The initial sense of audience community largely wore off as drunken munters started telling each other i) how much they were enjoying the gig and ii) how drunk they were. Once the Flaming Lips finished, I made my excuses and left.

* I am indebted to Sarah Dorman for this insight.

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Forbidden Fruit, part 2 – Some Actual Music Content

This continues my account of the recent Forbidden Fruit music festival event in Dublin. Part 1 here.

That said, I did manage to see some bands. Jape were coming towards the end of their set when we arrived. Last time I saw these, they were the one-person electronic-pop act of the ubiquitous Richie Egan. Now they seem to have mutated into a fairly generic Irish indie band. I thought they could have tried harder with their stage costumes. Jape's music does still have this quirky electronica aspect, but the blue jeans* and characterless short-sleeved shirts they sported did them no favours – surely this is a band who should be wearing spangly capes and silver jump suits?

Spies are another local band. They suffered from my having taken against the festival and also from being a bit too loud to hear properly, but maybe they were not all that bad. They had a certain Joy Division influence, but I could have done without the singer's shouting all the vocals. Or maybe his mic was just turned up too much. Still, nice haircuts.

I actually liked Kid Karate, another local band. These are one of those bands with only two members, one of whom sings and plays guitar, the other of whom drums. To get away with this kind of stripped down line up, you need to be good at what you do – and Kid Karate were. They were probably the hardest rocking band we saw all weekend, and I wish them every success. The singer wore very tight trousers.

[I subsequently discovered that one of Kid Karate featured in the lamer "reality" TV programme Fade Street (the one set in some friends' old flat on Fade Street), so I am embarrassed at having admitted to liking them].

I thought Yo La Tengo played well, but they are less fun at festivals than at normal concerts, because the shortened time available means they just play the music and cut out the amusing chit chat that makes them normally so entertaining. Or maybe they have cut out the chit-chat at normal gigs as well? It has been a while since I saw them. Still, I was impressed by their music, but I did not enjoy their set at all. Having all their beautiful quiet songs drowned out by festival goers' inane conversations really sucked the life out of me. I really do not understand why these people go up in front of a stage to converse loudly with their friends, surely there are any number of other places they could go where they would not be annoying people who were trying to listen to the music? Sadly, I fear that those of us trying to enjoy the music were something of a minority.

* Never trust a man wearing blue jeans.

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Forbidden Fruit, part 1 – The Horror Begins

I had this great idea. There was this festival on called Forbidden Fruit – and I would go to it. This festival was on in the grounds of the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Kilmainham, so I would be able to walk down and back from it without having to bother with any unpleasantness about camping or travelling to a festival site in some remote location. And there were people playing at it I liked the idea of seeing – The Flaming Lips, Caribou, Yo La Tengo, Battles, The Aphex Twin and various other we're-here-too acts. Nothing can go wrong, I thought, as I bought myself a two-day ticket. My beloved did the same.

A sinking feeling descended as I arrived at the festival site. In retrospect, I find myself wondering whether the problem was with me rather than the festival, but a number of rubbish things struck us almost immediately. Firstly, the music was too loud. OK, I know, that sounds like a real old man complaint, but the music here genuinely was too loud, with massive sound leakage from the different stages to each other. In front of the main stage, the sound was so loud that it was ear splitting and also ended up sounding too distorted for the music to be properly appreciated. This seemed to be the same on all the other stages we went near.

It was also striking that for all that Forbidden Fruit site looked very nice, it was all still being run on the classic take-the-money-and-run model of Irish festival organising. When you go to a proper festival, one thing they always do is give you a programme of what is on, where it is on, and maybe some kind of information about the acts so that you can go "Oooh, Anal Plexus – never heard of them before, but their write-up sounds interesting, let's check them out on the Internal Probe stage". Well there was none of that here. We had the forethought to print off a running order from the Internet before coming down, but it gave no information on the performers, so there was nothing to indicate whether any of Spank Rock, Carte Blanche, Ham Sandwich, Cast of Cheers, or Ignored Playaz would be worth checking out*.

The other thing that is always nice to do at an outdoor festival, especially when the weather is nice, is to drink an alcoholic beverage of some sort. One immediate problem with Forbidden Fruit was that it was sponsored by Bulmer's, makers of a [redacted for legal reasons] cider beloved of [redacted for legal reasons]. The festival may have been part of their ongoing attempts to re-brand their product. I was open to the idea of at least giving their repulsive alcoholic fruit juice a try, but this proved impossible. Despite the festival being sponsored by a manufacturer of alcoholic drinks, there were so few bar outlets on site that it rapidly became the case that to sate one's lust for booze would require enduring a queue of at least 45 minutes before you got near the bar. Now, I like a drink, but I hate queuing, so this became, for me, a dry festival**.

Some of the other festival attendees were a bit more dedicated in their quest for alcoholic refreshment than I was, so later on the day the place became rather messy – it became increasingly apparent that this was a festival for boozed up event people. Loud as the main stage was, it was increasingly difficult to hear bands over the sound of people telling each other how drunk they were or carrying on their inane conversations. The poor toilet training that afflicts so many Irish men also reared its head. Rather than make their way to the perfectly adequate toilets, for a great many it was preferable to urinate against the perimeter fence, in full view of the entire festival. Some of the fellows who did manage to make their way to the toilets could not fully grasp how these things work – rather than wait a minute or two for a free portaloo or a space at a urinal, they simply expelled their liquid waste at the nearest inanimate vertical object. Small wonder this country is in such a crisis.

* These are all actual bands who were playing at the festival.

** With all the "what is this shit music?" consequences that implies.

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