As you ascend the incline of the Royal Kilmainham Hospital Dublin, you would be forgiven for thinking you had got the wrong place. A huge 17th century building stands like a sentry before you, and the cries and sirens of city life dwindle in the background. The air is calm, birds are singing and bar a few security staff slowly ambling around you would be checking a map for directions. Was Forbidden Fruit really around here? But, as you snake your way around the corner of the building and the beautiful manicured garden to your right, it all begins to make sense. Just before you, a little in the distance, can be seen brightly coloured flags, a large stage and what looks like giant flowers. Ah yes, this must be the place. Either that or someone let a college art class loose for the weekend! Rounding another corner and the main entrance lies before you. The June bank holiday weekend plays host to Forbidden Fruit, now in its third year, a two day festival designed to be an in between event, not as large as other European festivals’ but not so small that it cannot boast some top international acts. There is no camping, the music is spread over three stages with a fourth one for comedy acts. Within easy walking distance from Dublin city centre, it is the ideal festival for those who do not want to spend their whole weekend trudging around muddy fields after the bands are gone home. For those who just want to turn up for one day, check out some new music, and go home again, it is the perfect antidote.
Under overcast skies and with the revelers slowly trickling in, The Trinity Orchestra kicked proceedings off with Queen covers. Ireland’s only entirely student run orchestra graced the original stage opening with Flash Gordon, and if that didn’t get you pumped for the weekend you might as well have gone home. Meanwhile, over on the undergrowth stage, Daithi was preparing to perform his first live show since his debut single ‘Chameleon Life’ had it’s airing. After numerous radio plays and endless retweets as “the sound of the Summer’, the Clare lad must have been brimming full of confidence for this festival. Casting only a small shape on the large stage, Daithi, fiddle in hand, let loose. What began as a very small audience quickly grew, and photographers’ rushed in to get those elusive shots. Certainly his most visual show of recent memory, the lights danced around the blue tent as My Love, Poison and Chamelon Life filled the airwaves, but Daithi never once allowing the visual element to eclipse the music. It was impressive to see him stood up there on such a large stage, having matured and grown as an artist, master of his domain, proof of what he had now become and a pre text of just what the future might bring. If you ever thought a fiddle player could not leave the confines of a small pokey pub, stuck in the corner rehashing old Irish tunes for American tourists, you were, I am glad to tell you, very sadly mistaken.
Just as Daithi was finishing his set, Dublin band Fight Like Apes were opening theirs back on the original stage. May Kay, dressed all in black, fingernails red and black, bounced around stage shouting lyrics at the gathering crowd below as the clouds overhead grew threateningly darker. Ever the performer, she thrashes her hair about as she plays synth, happy to be let loose from the confines of the corner of a pub where they played their Camden Crawl gig. Flanked closely by samples/synth player Pockets, the two feed off each other, creating an energetic performance, possibly celebrating the recently funded Fund-It project for the upcoming third album. Being almost the antithesis to Apes, Swim Deep, an indie rock band from Birmingham, took over on the undergrowth stage. Comprised of four guys, all emaciated sporting long hair and oversized t-shirts, you’d be forgiven for thinking you were back in the 90’s. A large banner is emblazoned in the rear of the stage with the words of their debut album ‘Where The Heaven Are We’ in white across it. Those who are watching look happy and contented, due in no small part to the poppy, happy go lucky escapism nature of their music, perfect festival fodder. Endlessly featured in the British press, one suspects you shall be hearing from this young band in the no so distant future.
“They are one of the most interesting bands you will see play live, they play mostly on their knees”. This was my education from a Phantom Radio employee as I waited for American noise rock band Health to take the stage. Once they did they were not standing for long as the lead singer thrashes his almost waist length hair around while playing guitar, then drops to his knees to continue playing. May Kay of Apes might just have met her male alter ego. This Californian’s band music is guitar driven, with layers of synth. The original writer’s of Crystal Castles ‘Crimewave’,(and watched from the sidelines by Alice Glass) they are a band with an undeniable energy and a unique live presence. As Health were tearing up the stage, James Blake was doing the opposite a short walk across the field on the original stage. Sat in the corner behind his synth, in slim jeans a shirt and a jacket, he delivered his tortured soul music to the fans below. Unfortunately, during the middle of the day and on a stage as large as this, Blake’s music simply does not work. It has no life, no pulse. It is mellow, heartbreak music and in a more intimate setting the long melodic beats of songs like ‘Wilhelms Scream’ would allow the listener to disappear into their own dreamlike state and be taken over by the music. Instead, in the middle of a Summers day, the music almost falls on deaf ears, which leaves everyone to watch Blake perform. That in itself is an issue as there isn’t anything to watch. He looks emotionless, bored almost, and I cannot help but feel some of the audience share that sentiment.
If there was an award for most confusing name IamamIwhoamI would certainly have won. And if there was an award for most sensual yet mad as bats performance that too would have gone their/her way. Self described as an electronic music multimedia project by Swedish singer/songwriter Joanna Lee, the show opens with a giant white cube centre stage. Everyone is left wondering whether she will appear from inside it, behind it, do a Marilyn Monroe and pop out of it? Instead, she appears inconspiciously from side of stage, dressed in a tight, black catsuit and her hair hanging loose. Standing in front of the cube and casting a silhouette, she begins to dance sensually and it all begins to look a bit like a Bond film opening credits! The ambient, synthpop/dreampop muisc pours out of her musicians as the audience begins to be spellbound. As the gathered press are then ushered out of view and not told to reappear until she dons the “hood” we are left waiting for twenty minutes. Then the hood appears, looking less like a hood and more like an oversized, shaggy rug which she spins from one side of the stage to the next receiving cheers from the crowd as she goes. It had to be said it looks spectacular and with the music in unison it turns out to be Forbidden Fruit’s little piece of much needed theatre. The Swedes may do minimalism, buy by god do they do it right! With the rain now beginning to fall, although only lightly, the tents were beginning to fill as the crowd began to grow. There was a jubilant, buoyant mood among everyone and overall the atmosphere was relaxed and contented.
“Yer one is a bit of a nut job” one member of security tells me as I am informed that media will not be permitted to take photos at the front of the stage, or anywhere near the front for that matter, orders given to them by Crystal Castles lead singer and mistress of mayhem, Alice Glass. Looking on perplexed, the stage is set with a huge replica of the cover of their third album spread across it. As the opening notes of ‘Plague’ play out the two appear. Alice, hair dyed pink, eyes with signature heavy makeup and sporting a navy army jacket with army boots, takes to the centre of stage screaming out her vocals as she casts her eye’s to the heavens like a woman possessed. It’s not long into their set before she has left the stage and runs towards the fans, jumps on the barrier followed by security. Fans hands adorning her she stands there in a trance, Christ like in her pose. Always on the verge of insanity the band rarely disappoint live, and even if their third album was a major let down they have enough brilliant material from the first two to thrill the assembled faithful. The closing act was reserved however for British rock band Kasabian. With the assembled masses waiting patiently at the original stage, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the side and out popped Kasabian. With fists pumping the air, and laddish roars, Ennio Morricone’s ‘Ecstacy Of Gold’ began to sound out as a banner was slowly raised. The light’s came up and the lad’s strolled out, lead singer Tom Meighan sporting a rather glitzy jacket. Looking well up for it and supported by a boisterous, cheering, crowd they reeled off their best tunes alongside lesser known songs. Kasabian are brilliant when playing familiar songs such as ‘Club Foot’ and everyone can sing along, but they struggle with their lesser known material. They are a stellar band who have achieved a lot of success but never quite reaching the dizzying heights of headline mammoths to be reckoned with and filling an hour and a half set seems to be slightly out of their reach. There are slight lulls as they play the album fillers but it does not seem to diminish the atmosphere of night as everyone rocks out to the Leicester band and the skies begin to darken. And with that day one of Forbidden Fruit was over.
That was unless you ditched Kasabian in favour of Dublin based techno synth “grid v’s guitar” live dance act, Le Galaxie. By far one of the most energetic bands you will ever witness live, whether it be on a main stage or in some scruffy tent holed in a corner of a festival you cannot remember the name of, they are an absolute treat! Combining savage synth and grinding guitar, their sound is unique and pleases the dance heads and the indie kid’s. Doused in strobe lights and generally wearing extravagant outfits ( last year they were the dead presidents) they are a band utterly committed to a live show, massively impressive in the energy they emit (one wonders when the Duracell sponsorship is going to come calling) ensuring that everyone dances the night away in a swathe of sweat. Joined later on stage by Elaine Mai and a sax player after a Twitter call out, they are without doubt one of the finest band’s in any festival, on any plot of grass. Usually ending the night with the now obligatory theme to Jurassic Park (as you do) and saluting their audience, there was no such honour this night as the sound engineer cut them off. It ain’t that easy to keep Le Galaxie down!
With a considerably brighter sky and a noticeably larger crowd even from early morning, Ocho kicked off proceedings on the bank holiday Sunday. A Dublin electronic band they attracted a small crowd as everyone made what they could of the rare sunshine. Smaller than they deserve as they are a neat little group, but the audience that was there clearly appreciated them and it was smiles all round. Solar Bears certainly know how to make noise as anyone who could not see the original stage ( British band Everything Everything were standing on tables in the artist area trying to get a look over the fence) were craning their necks too see what the noise was. Daughter were on-stage at this point but might as well not have been. Looking bored and worried at times you would wonder whether or not they actually enjoyed playing music. Dedicated fans surely turned up but I doubt they walked away with many new ones after their performance. One of the most anticipated sets of the weekend failed to materialise as Bondax had flight issues and could not make it so it was up to (ironically given their name) Flight Facilities to play an extended set. The boys were in relaxed form, smiling and chatting lit up by a screen from behind as everyone danced to their disco tunes. Then the inevitable rain began to fall and the tent became a shelter from the elements. There was a collective “should we just stay here and dance all night” thought among the audience but gladly the rain stopped and people dispersed to see the other acts. Outside, among the now much busier crowd, there was a real sense of relaxation in the air ( and a certain familiar smell wafting about) and as you looked around at all the trendy apparel and daft outfits you realised that everything had clicked into gear and boom, your at a festival. It was pleasing to see that even those who were only coming for the day made the effort and elevated it from a Sunday event to a proper weekend party.
Anyone in any doubt as to who was next on the Original stage soon had that dispersed as a huge Everything, Everything banner was raised in blue and yellow. The British alternative rock/pop band and darlings of the British media have garnered a lot of attention of late but are relatively unknown on these shores. What would the boys deliver? Whatever it was it would be done in subtlely coordinated outfits as they all wore navy with some form of yellow across it. Looking in good form and rearing to get going, they worked through their material from their two albums for the now growing crowd. Described as having an ambitious sound which combines rhythmic approaches with laptop programming, the band are the geeks of the festival creating a musical niche and proving that they are more than white men with guitars from Manchester. Anyone wanting to lose themselves to dance ( as Daft Punk tell us we should) would have done well to have caught Austra’s set. Women swirled about the grass inside as if war had just ended and the men looked stoned as monkey pigeons as the Canadian electronic group worked their magic. Named after the goddess of light in Latvian mythology it is no wonder the band have such a euphoric effect on everybody. Wearing daft headgear and funky clothes they entertain the crowd saving the best til last as everyone screams in delight for the final song. Canadian synthpop act Trust was bringing his one man show to the undergrowth stage (what was once a duo with Austra member Maya Postepski is no more) Dressed all in black and bathed in deep red and blue lights, his set was moody, charged and brilliant. His music may be described as pop but this is verging on gothic as the beautiful man in black delivered his dark lyrics. The night though was all about one band, and one band only,Chic.
The original stage was full. Brimming in fact. The sun was high in the sky, there was an excited energy in the air. An anticipation. People smiled, cheered, whistled and whooped. The stage sat ready and waiting. The photographers’ were ushered in. You knew it was close. Daft Punk’s ‘Touch’ played out over the speakers. Then, as casual you like, he strolled on out. Nile Rodgers, singer, musician, producer, legend, graced the stage of Forbidden Fruit 2013 in the most impeccably clean white suit you have ever seen. The damn thing sparkled. Smiling like a cheshire cat he proceeded to take photos of the huge crowd gathered. Looking on in adoration and seemingly truly humbled by what he saw, he took a moment to observe and then left the stage. Reappearing with his band and two of the most beautiful black women you have ever seen, both dressed in impeccable white, they stood for a moment of appreciation and the turned their backs. This you could feel was going to be good!! With the whole band smiling they began to play and Nile and the two women began a choreographed dance in perfect timing. Nile Rodgers was dancing! With guitar in hand and looking fresh as a daisy for a man of his age, Nile and Chic reeled off hit after hit! With the year’s seemingly having no effect on Mr. Rodgers he shimmied from side to side of the stage, stopping at times to play the guitar off Jerry Barnes in true rock and roll style. Le Freak, I Want Your Love and We Are Family all followed closely, Nile quick to remind the crowd that they are “not a cover band”, they were doing this before Madonna and company. And one can only agree with the man. Having worked with people from Bowie to Daft Punk, the man is a god, his hand having touched music for the past 30 years, and tonight it shows. You only had to look outward at the thousand’s of people getting their groove on. What can only be described as an outdoor disco, people dancing like they were the only person in a room, was very much in full swing. And this is the point of music, music created by the likes of Chic. It wasn’t created to sell records or to make people rich, it was created to touch people, to move them, both emotionally and physically. Rodgers didn’t create music because he wanted to. He had no choice. It was buried within his soul. He had to create music. It oozed from him. He was a conduit from the God’s above. Just watching them on-stage you could feel that euphoria all around you. Daft Punk may have owned the Summer of 2013 with their disco music, but Chic, they damn well invented it and they proved not only to be the band of the day but the band of the entire festival. There was no equal. Following on from such a spectacle would always have been a challenge and that challenge fell to Scottish rocker’s Primal Scream. Bobby Gillepsie and co. took to the stage and played a what must be at this stage their standard festival set, reeling off the hits that made them big in the first place. With a good stage presence and impressive light show the band lit up Forbidden Fruit as the night sank her teeth in.
As the stages fell quiet, as the bars closed and as the punters slowly ambled through the grass kicking empty plastic beer glasses along, Dublin said goodbye to the June bank holiday weekend. Everyone left happy and in high spirits, the rain (mostly) stayed away and an eclectic mix of music was heard. There is not much to criticise about Forbidden Fruit. It is well organised, the staff are friendly and helpful ( no power tripping security, which is a rarity) and the clientele are good, music loving people. ( You cannot imagine anyone setting tents on fire here like a certain other Irish festival, if indeed there were any tents). The only gripe I have is the organisers’ decision to only let people in at two when the first act is on at half two. It seems slightly absurd and unfair to the artists. The whole point of a festival is that you can chill out and enjoy the atmosphere, soak everything up and choose what act you want to see. Giving people only half an hour seems tight and must slightly dent the atmosphere for the first few acts.
It is however only a small gripe. If Forbidden Fruit were a fairytale it might well be Goldilocks. For just like she found the right bed, Forbidden Fruit seems to have found the right formula. Not too small, not too big, just right.
Photography : Clive Mulvey © CHASSEUR MAGAZINE