This is how brat summer ends: not with a bang, but the uneasy sense that what we’re moving into is just a distorted simulacrum of the UK as it existed in 1997. One cynical gang of class traitors from that era has just launcheda world tour seemingly designed to punish those who can least afford it, while another hasformed a governmentand is already promising a budget that will do the same. Cool Britannia, baby! At this year’s Forwards festival, at least, there are glimmers of joy on offer that transcend nostalgia, austerity, and doing keys of co*ke in compostable portaloos: the three little toxic treats that Britain can never seem to quit entirely.
For a start, a lot of the deeply Bristolian energy that was on show atMassive Attack’s historic live show here the previous weekend– as well as some of the actual exhibits, merchandise, public speakers, etc. – makes a return appearance. The city has always carried a proud tradition of protest, rebellion, and fighting the good fight, and that spirit is wisely carried into everything Forwards does, to their credit: signs are everywhere about the importance of consent, respect, and generally looking out for others, which appears to be well-observed all weekend.
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Saturday is decidedly heavier on the electronic euphoria this year, and the bar is set sky-high early on when Romy takes to the East Stage, delivering an immaculately mixed show that manages to capture the pleasures of both a live pop performance and DJ set. Dashing back and forth across the field – there are two main stages, though a smaller third one captures some wonderful shows from local heroes Danny Chaska, Laimu, LICE, Cousin Kula, and more – the run from here on out is pretty special.
Greentea Peng and Floating Points are the kind of acts that feel made for summer festival days, and while discrete in genre terms, both bring jazzy elements to their respective R&B and electronic palettes that are most welcome. Four Tet also remains at the top of his game, expertly swaying the crowd and as night begins to close in; his almost comically eclectic set somehow works perfectly, and provides another weekend highlight.
Finally, Loyle Carner offers the crowd an energetic and emotional headline set, interspersing flashes of poetry with gratitude at the sea of fans here to see him, and closing with a rousing version of ‘Ottolenghi’. Some of the later bars feel like a particularly artful way to close the day:“This life can be good one minute/ And next minute it can turn bad/ So don’t look down on nobody/ ‘Cause that’s how life can turn for everybody.”Amen.
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When Sunday afternoon rolls round, the traditional summer festival downpour is in full flow – though with Irish songwriter CMAT about halfway through her set, the storm has been deemed sufficiently dangerous to stop the music. It’s a shame to see such a ridiculously fun performance being interrupted, though it’s soon back on; besides, if anything, the thunder and lightning arguably provides a fitting backdrop to Ciara Mary-Alice Thompson’s glorious drama-school dancing and facial expressions on stage.
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Baxter Dury and Yard Act are back-to-back this afternoon, forming a neatly packaged 80 minutes of men yelling over their own approximations of post-punk, though only one singer ties his scarf round his head to complete the impression of someone’s embarrassing uncle at a wedding disco.
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The Jesus & Mary Chain complete today’s more rock-oriented offerings, though the Scottish legends are leagues ahead in terms of performance and depth of setlist today, even with the occasional early technical issues with Jim Reid’s monitor; their closing salvo of ‘Just Like Honey’ and ‘I Hate Rock ‘n’ Roll’, in particular, provide two of the weekend’s finest moments.
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Underworld, meanwhile, prove they still know their way around a festival audience with a predictably well-received set. More unexpected, perhaps, is Jessie Ware – not for her ability to thrill a large crowd, which has been a constant in her career for some time, but the sheer joyous audacity of dropping in a cover of ‘Believe’ by Cher, which sends the audience at Clifton Downs into raptures. Ware’s energy is generally astonishing throughout, interpolating dance routines – some of which she teaches to the crowd – with dashing down to the front row, collecting flowers, and cavorting with her backing dancers. Wonderful stuff.
At last, reaching arguably the biggest draw of the weekend, it’s time to dance ourselves clean. It’s probably worth stating at the outset that LCD Soundsystem, in their current incarnation, are more or less incapable of delivering a bad performance. They are an exquisite live band, and perhaps the closest thing this generation has to Talking Heads at the peak of their powers. Tonight, though, is the last show of the night, and it’s hard to shake the feeling that the band are a little tired. The bangers still bang – ‘Tribulations’, an emotional ‘Someone Great’, and the eternally perfect ‘All My Friends’ are especially on point – but there’s not a lot of crowd interaction, and the omission of certain crowd-pleasers (‘Daft Punk Is Playing At My House’) and fan-favourites (‘Losing My Edge’) in favour of a Harry Nilsson cover, for example, feels like a misstep.
Nonetheless, the weekend ends with people generally happy and dry, and for what’s on offer, Forwards still feels like one of the most eclectic, entertaining, and best-value festivals going. Across back-to-back weekends with the Massive Attack show, it’s further tribute to a city that feels much more concerned with the future, and how beautiful it could all be if we’re willing to make some changes, than looking back in nostalgia – or indeed, anger – for a past that wasn’t as great as we often fantasise.
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Words: Matthew Neale
Photography: Derek Robertson
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