- Having never previously attended a Future Music Festival in Sydney, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. A nice intimate festival below a sunny sky? A few lazy mares wandering around Randwick Racecourse chewing grass? Soothing sounds from some of the finer electronic DJ’s and artists from across the world? Imagine my shock, then, when I entered the gates and was welcomed by what surely must have been about 50,000 people, what seemed an endless amount of stages and not a single horse in sight.
Before we begin with the review, though, an appeal: Would it be legal for festival promoters to ban the removal of shirts (for beefy men in particular)? I mean surely I’m not the only one who doesn’t like the look of a sweaty, shirtless roided-up Muscle Mary giving it the ‘Look at me, I spend 16 hours at the gym every day and aren’t I a he-man?’ (Thankfully, I’m not a good looking 19 year-old female that probably bore the brunt of the egos of these battlers.)
In any case, there are things that Future could control. Set times and arena choice. In both respects, I have to criticize the organizers. Why did Sven Väth and John Digweed have to clash? Why not put Väth after Digweed and move Roger Sanchez? Why was Sven Väth in the Fanklub arena playing in between Datarock and Who Made Who? Why is Fanklub spelt with a k? And who the hell booked Tenzin?
Datarock. Not a fan. Who are they and what is their purpose? I think I counted four blokes on stage, all in matching tracksuits. It looked like a theatre production of The Royal Tenenbaums. I wished it was to be honest. Instead, they came off like a bunch of drunken bogans having a singalong.
Soon, though, background hip-hop stage music signalled the welcome conclusion of Datarock’s ‘performance’ and Sven appeared behind the decks to a warm welcome. He indicated to the stage manager that it was time to cut the backing music. The music faded out, and Sven dropped his first kick drum…only seconds later to be met with a hip-hop bassline working its way into the mix. Unbeknownst to Sven (and possibly Mr. Stage Manager) the hip-hop hadn’t been switched off, it was merely in between songs. The result spoke for itself. A few seconds and offensive gesture later and Sven was finally on his way. Phew. (Not the smoothest ride from electro indie live rock to techno the Cocoon label manager and club owner has seen over his years.)
Luckily, Sven was up to the task at hand and the energy levels increased tenfold during the hour I saw of him, playing an energetic set that kickstarted the day for me and a host of other revellers. Sven was much more riveting as a performer than Datarock, which says a lot for both parties involved. It helped that he started his set with a track from Ink & Needle, which I can safely say was a lot more pleasing then Datarock’s horrid finale, a grim cover of Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes ‘(I've Had) The Time of My Life’.
As much as I wanted to catch two full hours of Sven, his set clashed with John Digweed. The fellow superstar DJ marked his territory immediately with Pryda’s ‘Pjanoo’ and worked his way through two very impressive hours. Beginning things with his trademark epic melodic sound, Digweed gradually moved his way to some angry moments—like the ferocious sounds of D Dub’s mix of the Phoenix’s classic ‘Rise Up’. Speaking of classic, I don't think I've ever seen such a disappointing reaction to Jam & Spoon’s mix of the ‘Age of Love’. (Perhaps a sign of the new generation of Aussie partygoers that haven’t been exposed to such records from the mid 90’s.) If they didn’t recognise that, they surely would’ve been familiar to the uplifting riffs of Bedrock’s ‘Heaven Scent’, John’s last record—but, alas, another subpar reaction. Digweed couldn’t have been impressed.
James Holroyd followed Digweed for half-an-hour and, with regards to his set, I’ll simply say that I won’t be disappointed if I never see his name on a festival line-up again. Nobody wants to hear uninspiring club music during peak time at a festival on the main stage. And before I get bombarded with abuse reminding me that he's the Chemical Brothers warm-up DJ, do you honestly think the Chems need a DJ to bring the crowd to comatose levels to make them sound better?
Holroyd’s crash-and-burn took some of the sting away from the Chems, unfortunately. I’m not sure what it was, but something was missing. They were good, yes, playing pretty much all their classic hits, but the performance never hit fifth gear. (It hovered more around the safe speeds of third.) The visual support was great, though, and it was nevertheless a strong performance that was probably the highlight of the festival for most.
Overall? The entire festival was entertaining, well short of being life changing, and bar the performances of Sven Väth & John Digweed, quite frankly could have been a lot better.