Daddy Daddy! Bad Spidey just kicked Scooby
Apart from most weekend warriors’ deep need to enlist the services of the vet once Monday jumped out from behind a hedge to surprise and torment us, Electric Picnic didn’t disappoint any campers I came in contact with. There were grumbles about increased numbers; the crowds bottle necked at the main gate on Friday evening were overwhelming.
Some people talked to me about the Electric Picnic buzz being different than it had been in previous years, the festival feeling a little more hectic than expected. They’re probably right, but down at Body&Soul there was still plenty of room to pan out and soak in some sparkly and sonorous vibrations.
Aindrias de Staic and The Latchikos set a suitable mood for the weekend when they dealt out some magic mushroom musings that skipped through the pools of Poulaphouca, along the banks of Lough Corrib and up through the woodlands of n
orth Co Leitrim. Aindrias is the originator of Gyp-hop and there’s no doubt he added a few more Gypsters to his rambling roadshow of rí rá last weekend.
TuneYards stole Friday’s show from the Body&Soul main-stage when the innovative, edgy and intricately African-spiced sounds that Merrill Garbus cooked up, created the kind of excitement and awe that Blondie used to.
It was great to be with people who’ve never witnessed the Chic machine before, just to be reminded of how good a festival band they really are. When they sing “Theseare-the-good-times”, it’s darn difficult to disagree.
St Vincent’s second Stradbally stormer on the trot and a set from Beck that moved seamlessly from the symphonic sumptuousness of Wave to the silliness of a croaky snatch from Do You Think I’m Sexy saved Sunday.
Yet again I managed to miss more acts than I caught, and what I thought of those I saw doesn’t really matter; there are as many paths through a festival as there are people at it. The majority of my entertainment was provided by the misfits, miscreants, freaks, fools and friendly folk who populate the Picnic. There will always be a prick or two knockin’ around, but so long as the majority of them are kept corralled within the VIP area, Electric Picnic will remain a colourful and chaotic garden of hedon.
Safe travels, don’t die.