Review: As One in the Park @ Victoria Park

While many European cities’ gay Pride events seem only to get bigger, London’s has become a shadow of its former self. Where once the capital’s gay community would take over a London park with an array of club tents and live acts for one of the biggest parties of the year, the focus is now much more on celebrating the cultural side of gay life. As such, club promoters Orange Nation – the minds behind London club nights such as Beyond, Orange, A:M, Later, Deelooded and Gravity – saw a gap in the market and took their As One night, held since 2010 at Vauxhall's Fire, to Victoria Park.

The organisers must have been punching the air on Sunday morning, as the sun decided to make a guest appearance for the inaugural As One in the Park and stayed for the whole event. It probably made a huge difference to the turn out, but even then, while the atmosphere was buzzing and there were plenty of people around, this fledgling festival didn’t feel full to capacity.

Potential punters might have been put off by the overly chart-pop line-up. The first talking point of the afternoon was infamous X Factor contestant Rylan, who injected even more camp into the likes of Psy’s Gangnam Style and the Spice Girls, and then talked a lot as well to a generally bemused crowd.

He was later followed by fellow X Factor alumni Union J, who did a bunch of covers and shamelessly aped every 90s boyband cliché they could. One Direction won’t be concerned about the competition.

In-between the X Factor re-run, though, As One in the Park capitalised on unexpectedly making headlines the other week by getting former foe Helen Mirren to come on stage and introduce the Batala London drummers. It was all a far cry from her storming out of Gielgud Theatre in full dress as the Queen to berate the drummers outside promoting the festival. She did, though, still complain the music was “too loud”.

Aside from the main stage, As One had a host of dance tents that made a reasonable attempt to represent the diversity of London’s gay scene. From cabaret at Madame Jo Jo’s to the female-centric FindHrr Girls Arena and the unfortunately tucked away Popstarz bandstand, there was, as they say, something for everyone. But easily the most popular area was the Circuit Arena tent, packed out with primped and preened muscle boys and playing host to a number of DJs including Roger Sanchez and Boy George, the latter of whom drew a large crowd with his pleasing, straightforward house set.

Back on the main stage Katy B did her best to bring some class to the proceedings. Dressed down in jeans with just two dancers backing her up, she’s one of the most laidback performers you’ll see. And yet she’s both compelling and able to whip a crowd into a frenzy. It’s mostly down to the tunes. While breakout hit On A Mission is sounding a little stale now, bigger hits such as Lights On and her collaboration with Magnetic Man, Perfect Stranger, sound incredible in the sunshine. Even less familiar music from her recent Danger EP has the crowd unable to resist, and she cleverly introduces Jessie Ware duet Aaliyah by singing a mash-up of songs by the pop star with whom that song shares a name. 

Holly Johnson felt a little incongruous in the Top 40-heavy line-up, and the poor showing of audience members reflected that. Undeterred, he and his impressive band ploughed through a bunch of lesser-known songs before bringing out the big guns. Solo hits Love Train and Americanos met with bemusement, but Frankie Goes To Hollywood classics such as Relax and The Power of Love finally got the crowd excited.

You got the feeling most were merely getting a good spot for headliner Rita Ora, however. Wearing a bobble baseball cap and disconcerting trousers with a face on, she looked every inch the pop star compared to the more casual Katy B. The crowd, by now pumped up after a few hours at the festival, showed their appreciation as she ran through hits such as Hot Right Now and How We Do (Party), the latter song’s refrain “party and bullshit and party and bullshit” ringing out across the park long after the song’s end.

That Rita Ora’s decent enough but hardly mind-blowing performance seemed like the highlight of the day goes to show that As One needs to up its line-up game for next year. But the fact that the crowd still seemed to be having an awful lot of fun in the sun says that this festival has got huge potential to run and run.

Review: Orbital @ The Warehouse Project

(Written for skiddle.com website, originally published here.)

It’s been an amazing year for Orbital. In April they surprised critics by returning with an excellent album – Wonky – that secured their return to prominence, something they’d been carefully working away on with a string of successful live shows since their reformation in 2008.

Old ravers who remember the heady days when the duo released their first single Chime, would not have been able to resist grinning at the sight of Orbital opening the Paralympics this summer alongside unlikely vocalist Stephen Hawking. It was a moment when you could almost have considered them national treasures, such is their contribution to music and the length of their tenure in the charts.

But that’s not to say Orbital are old-fashioned, or now an act based on nostalgia. Seeing them at the exhaustive Warehouse Project series, ensconced in a line-up that includes electronic music heavyweights such as Apparat, Joy Orbison and Modeselektor shows that Orbital are as relevant now as they’ve ever been.

The immense Warehouse Project venue is exactly what its name suggests – a huge, warren-like warehouse. It’s all concrete walls, metal awnings and the plastic drapes most often seen in abbatoirs or hospitals. This unforgiving environment is complemented by a pushy and up-for-it crowd that fills the space so efficiently you find yourself wading through elbows and shoulders at every turn.

It sounds intense, and it is, but that’s not to say it’s not fun. The crowd are as determined to enjoy themselves as they are to navigate the bottle-necks as quickly as possible. This much is clear during Apparat’s set – opening for Orbital – in the main room. Going against expectation if all you’ve heard is his recent, very mellow, album, the German producer played a stuttering, playful set that the crowd were lapping up.

Joy Orbison also had the crowd jumping over in Room 2, where he was playing a pleasingly bouncy set, maybe a little too pleasing as the room was thick with people.

There wasn’t time to hang around, however, as Orbital were taking to the stage in the main room. Opening with 1993’s 'Time Becomes', the duo ploughed into a set that was perfectly pitched between new album Wonky and the big hits. There were also a few surprises – a glorious 'Halcyon' segued into an unexpected cover of Belinda Carlisle’s 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' early on in the set, leaving you wondering what on earth was coming next.

Pounding versions of 'New France' and 'Straight Sun' flowed straight into Orbital’s riff on dubstep, 'Beelzedub'. It’s this sense of playfulness with different genres that enables the duo to make sense in both a line-up such as Warehouse Project’s, as well as any festival you might have seen them appear at this summer.

As the classic Orbital track 'Belfast' moved into 'Impact', before arriving at the Lady Leshurr-featuring Wonky, you get an (intentional?) sense of the decades of music that Orbital straddle. They completed their nod to the history of electronic music with a cover of the hugely influential Doctor Who theme tune – surprisingly danceable in this context.

But, as mentioned before, Orbital are not riding a wave of nostalgia. While many of the tracks will bring back fantastic memories for some of the crowd, the rest are enjoying Orbital because they sound very now and very comfortable in the context of a host of acts that form integral parts of the current electronic musical climate.

The penultimate track may be their still euphoric first single 'Chime', but they end the set on Wonky’s closer 'Where Is It Going?' – a pertinent question that Orbital are sure to be involved in answering.

Festival review: Sunday @ Wireless with Rihanna

(Written for skiddle.com website, originally published here.)

Any naysayers that say Wireless Festival isn’t a proper festival (no camping, in the middle of a city) might have rethought their stance had they seen Hyde Park on the Sunday. The intermittent downpours and trodding feet of 65,000 revellers turned the normally grassy ground into a mudbath worthy of any countryside festival. Not that anyone cared. The atmosphere was one of easygoing excitement, no doubt bolstered by an even poppier and dancier line-up than the previous two days.

It wasn’t only the rain that made a return to Wireless on Sunday. Rising star Labrinth was given a second slot, this time elevated to the main stage – echoing his already meteoric rise to chart success. He played the same set as Saturday, but his performance felt looser, more confident, more fun. He seemed more at ease on the bigger, more exposed stage. Closing his set with his big hit Earthquake, he also seemed genuinely moved to be there, thanking the crowd for the experience.

In the Pepsi Max tent, another act that’s generated plenty of buzz this year – 23-year-old US rapper A$AP Rocky – put in an energetic and aggressive performance. With a similar set up to Hilltop Hoods on the previous day – two rappers and a DJ – it was hard not to compare the two acts. A$AP Rocky was a much more serious affair, with none of the party vibe generated by his more experienced Australian counterparts. The crowd was less bouncy as a result, but judging by the amount of lyrics being shouted back at the US star, he has a dedicated and growing following.

Party vibes were flowing with abundance from the main stage as pop duo Rizzle Kicks performed with infectious enthusiasm. Rizzle and Sylvester bounded up and down the big stage with apparent glee, churning out the tunes from their hit album Stereo Typical. Inexplicable covers of the James Bond theme and The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army filled out the setlist, but it was the hits that got the most joyful crowd reaction.

French DJ and producer Madeon was the first of three dance acts lined up for the big finale in the Pepsi Max tent. Another act generating plenty of buzz in 2012, the 18-year-old drew an impressive crowd, all keen to check out his heady, disco-fuelled house set.

The next DJ and producer out the gate was the US’s Kaskade. Best known for his floaty collaboration with Deadmau5, I Remember, the American DJ hit the up-for-it crowd with a surprisingly heavy techno house set. It was perfectly pitched, with the whole tent unable to just stand and watch the impressive light show by the end of it.

It was a mere warm-up compared to Calvin Harris, however. The tent filled quickly and the crowd spilled out, stretching back up towards the main stage. It suddenly seemed silly, given he’s having his most successful year yet, that he wasn’t on the main stage. A screen outside the tent prevented those unable to get in from missing too much, and as Harris mixed his hits with classics such as Where’s Your Head At, Save The World and You Got The Love, people got playful in the mud.

It wasn’t to be the last outing for Harris’s global megahit We Found Love that evening, either. Initially billed as Rihanna’s only UK gig this year, the hype about her Wireless appearance had been dampened somewhat by her performance at Radio 1’s Hackney Weekend two weeks previously. Even the Egyptian-themed set was the same. But once she took to the stage, front-loading her set with three big hits: Only Girl, Disturbia and S&M, the Barbadian singer had the London crowd in the palm of her hand.

Rihanna was accused of lacking charisma in her early days. Still only 24, there’s no danger of that now. Her casual but engaging 90-minute performance saw her carrying the mantle of being one of the biggest pop stars in the world with ease. For casual fans it was sometimes hard-going: there were many songs from her recent album, and long sections of mid-tempo album tracks seemingly designed to showcase Rihanna’s thigh wobble rather than engage a crowd. But when the hits came out – songs that the whole crowd know by heart – it was impossible to resist singing along.

Festival review: Saturday @ Wireless with Drake

(Written for skiddle.com website, originally published here.)

Seven years into its life, the Wireless Festival, set proudly in Hyde Park in the centre of London, could now lay claim to being a big gun on the festival calendar. This year’s line-up was a heady mix of big name dance acts, popular British pop acts and hotly-tipped rising stars such as D’banj and A$AP Rocky. All this was topped off with three of the world’s biggest pop stars – Drake, Nicki Minaj and Rihanna.

This Top 40-heavy line-up of pop and R&B acts inevitably attracted a youthful, glammed-up crowd, as concerned with reattaching false eyelashes and flexing tattooed biceps as they were with protecting themselves from the intermittent downpours. 

Wireless did offer some protection from the capricious weather in the form of two tents. The smaller, the Unwind Stage, was tucked away near the entrance, where duo AlunaGeorge were given the unforgiving 2pm opening slot. Their 2012 take on 90s R&B, with its electro riffs and Aluna Francis’ compelling vocal, has had music blogs frothing at the mouth, but here it failed to hit the mark. There’s the nagging feeling that their music is more suited to a smoky, low-ceilinged club than a tent during the daytime. But Francis still gave it her all, putting in a laudably enthusiastic performance for the small but curious crowd. 

The bigger Pepsi Max tent, tucked away behind the main stage, played host to Australian hip hop perennials Hilltop Hoods. Considering their lack of profile in the UK, the group drew a big crowd (bolstered by the hordes of Aussie travellers ensconced in the capital, judging by the flags being waved around) who know enough of the words to make it feel like the band were more than just a curiosity for those present. Not that it mattered if they were. The three-piece are adept at getting a crowd going, with plenty of call-backs and chanting alongside their already infectious tunes. 

The joyful crowd reaction was nothing compared to what came next, however. The Aussie flags disappeared, the crowd surged forward and the lengthy and dramatic build-up to the arrival of D’banj on stage began. The Nigerian singer-songwriter is currently enjoying chart success with his Afrobeat crossover hit Oliver Twist and has been signed to Kanye West’s label. Judging by the adoration and excitement in the crowd as D’banj put in his highly energetic performance, it’s a canny move on West’s part. 

British star Labrinth got similar adoration if not quite the same buzz of excitement from the crowd. The singer and multi-instrumentalist managed to show off each of his skills during his performance, moving from microphone to guitar to keyboard without missing a beat. One album in, he still manages to churn out the hits, including, to the great pleasure of the crowd, his No 1 Tinie Tempah collaboration Pass Out. 

Over on the main stage fellow chart star Example seemed a bit lost on the huge stage. Bouncing from one end to the other, he was very much leaning on his band to beef up the performance, behaving more like a lead singer than a solo star. He needn’t have worried. He could have just stood there and his pounding tunes would have had the crowd unable to resist dancing. 

Nicki Minaj kept the crowd waiting half an hour after her supposed start time. But when one of the world’s biggest pop stars arrives on stage, platinum blonde hair and frilly knickers blowing in the wind, these things are quickly forgotten. She opened with a handful of her heavier tracks, the onslaught of swearwords making you wonder why the multitude of pre-teens present in the audience had been allowed to watch her. It’s a showy and hugely enjoyable performance, the arrival of her globe-straddling hit Starships reminding you that everyone, even a hardened hip hop fan, is a sucker for a catchy pop tune. 

Back in the big tent dubstep maestros Nero served up their eye-popping, bass-heavy show. Sat behind a stack of speakers and TV screens, the duo ran through their hit album with playful confidence. They even threw in the odd surprise, such as a dubby take on The Streets’ club anthem Blinded By The Lights. 

This year Wireless timed it so all the other stages were finished in time for the headline act on the main stage. Enter Drake, who arrived with as much bombast as Minaj but then failed to prolong the excitement. While much of the crowd faithfully sang along, there was a palpable lack of fun to the proceedings, the problem being the music itself: there’s only so much energy you can generate with Drake’s meandering and thoughtful style of hip hop. Appearances by fellow Americans The Weeknd and a returning Minaj added a frisson of excitement, but you can’t help but want more from a Saturday night headliner.

Kickboxing: My Story

In 2003 I was diagnosed as suffering from depression. I tackled my recovery from this in the usual way I tackle difficult tasks – by making a list of things to do.

As I compiled my list, very little of it was appealing. I knew, though, that it was all essential. One thing that did hold some appeal, however, was exercise.

The benefits of exercise in managing depression are well documented. It increases energy levels, self-esteem, gives you a sense of control over your life, a distraction from your thoughts, improves your health and body, which can lift your mood, helps you sleep better and, probably most importantly, provides an outlet for stress and frustration.

The gym held no appeal; running neither. I’d tried them in the past and found them, you know, really fucking boring. Instead, this was the perfect opportunity for me to act on a desire to explore martial arts. It seemed the best option to me – not only would I get exercise, I would learn something. It was intricate, disciplined, and looked really fucking cool.

My interest wasn’t new – I’d tried tae kwon do at university. I’d gone along for one session and was pushed so hard physically throughout that I tasted blood in the back of my throat for the last half an hour. I didn’t go back. To me, that experience confirmed a long-held belief - pummelled into me at school - that I wasn’t cut out for sport. I wasn’t someone who could push himself physically; I was too weak, too uncoordinated.

I still felt that when I signed up for my first session with KB Kickboxing. But I’d picked the school carefully. The last thing I needed, given my fragile state of mind, was another batch of macho fuckheads highlighting my limitations, failing to encourage me beyond them. Doing something like kickboxing was wildly out of my comfort zone and, if I was to make it work, I needed to be in the right environment.

There was something in the rhetoric on the KB website that reached out to me, made me smile even. They took on all comers; I was guaranteed the always calming presence of women; it was even, astonishingly, gay friendly. It seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t.

Nor was it an easy ride. Sure, the school takes on all sexes, all abilities, all weights, all comers. But it pushes you hard. It forces you to face your limitations, reach beyond them, and achieve more than you thought you could. And then achieve some more.

I started at the school intending just to get some exercise. The belts system held no appeal. But before I knew it I was doing my first grading. It was one thing being in class, doing techniques, knowing if you make a mistake it doesn’t matter so much, get it right next time. In the grading hall there is pressure. You are being watched, assessed, judged. And the result of that judgement is whether or not you win the prize, whether you pass the exam, whether you raise the trophy above your head.

So you’re there in this strange, intimidating gym hall; Kelly Bunyan, the lead instructor at KB, has changed from encouraging and fun to no-nonsense and fearsome; the air is thick with tension and nerves; the smooth, plasticky floor rips your feet to shreds as you move around.

And then in my head I have an unstoppable, unrelenting voice telling me after every mistake I make – and even when I’m getting it right – that I’ve failed, or that other people do that technique better than that. It tells me I’m going to be the first member of the school to fail at getting a blue belt. It points out the door over there and wonders if maybe I should just walk out, never come back. I’d never have to see any of these people again. I fought that voice. I fought it hard with every punch and kick I could muster. When the voice was wondering how I was going to make it through an hour – a whole hour! – of physical activity like this, I just carried on, trying to focus on what I was doing; trying to get it right.

I got that blue belt. Then I got a green one; then an orange and a purple. Kickboxing changed me. It took the strength in me and capitalised on it, forcing the retreat of the black cloud that had been threatening to engulf me.

The introduction of kung fu added another element of appeal to the school. Intricate and beautiful, it complements the direct and snappy moves of kickboxing. It provides as many mental challenges as physical. It’s sensual. It’s powerful. It’s a pleasure to watch and a pleasure to do. It teaches you how to protect yourself. It empowers you. I felt honoured and thrilled to take it up, and still do.

I took a break from KB and went hotfooting it around the world. In Thailand I tried Thai boxing, something that five years previously I would never have been able – mentally and as such physically - to attempt. In those Bangkok gyms I came face-to-face with the very machismo that had sent me scuttling off at school, that left me the last person picked for the team. I faced it and showed it what I was capable of, and what I was capable of learning. Very few things in my life have been as satisfying as impressing seasoned Thai boxers with my kicks, making them want to show me more.

I tried kickboxing in Sydney. They told me to slow down, ease up. I was used to a faster pace than they could provide. I quickly realised I wasn’t going to get the cardio I had become accustomed to. It was disappointing, and made me realise how good I’d had it in London.

When I returned to the UK, I didn’t even think twice about returning to KB. I’d missed the challenges it gave me. I’d missed the endorphin rush I’d got so used to. I’d missed the people. I’d missed the distraction it provided. I’d missed doing hook kicks.

It’s not been an easy return. I had to undergo a major operation just a couple of months after re-joining the school, and I was unable to attend for two and a half months while I underwent further treatment. This physical hurdle was far easier to deal with personally than the head stuff, yet I received far more support from those around me. Ironic. But I accepted the support and focused on getting through it so I could get back to training.

Because that was the frustrating thing – I’d had a taste of what I’d been missing then had to stop it. I realised that KB had made me someone who was used to doing physical activity – the polar opposite of my younger self – and now that I couldn’t, it made me frustrated. Angry, even. But I used that to focus my recovery, get better as soon as I could, move on from it and get back to normality.

Even when I returned, it was difficult. My recovery took longer than expected and I was easily fatigued. Plus I had to rebuild my core strength, almost from scratch. But I got there, slowly.

2011 was going to be my brown belt year. Come December I thought I would join the ranks of Kelly’s continually swelling higher grades. That was my aim. But life, as they say with some understatement, got in the way. For a while I let outside pressures and events get on top of me. I was too fatigued to fight – literally and metaphorically. I’d lost sight of what a useful tool kickboxing was in coping with the slings and arrows.

Then I remembered. The last months of the year saw me reconnecting with an element of my life I’d put to the side for too long – and the rewards have been huge. The sudden arrival of a kung fu grading focused me. It gave me something to strive for, something to think about other than the daily grind. I worked hard at it; studied the syllabus; provided entertainment for people in Hyde Park as we practiced our techniques in the summer sun. Getting my blue sash reminded me of the joy of that achievement, and the genuine and warranted pride you can feel in yourself.

I’ve entered 2012 with a renewed sense of focus. I’ve got my mojo back (I won’t rhyme it with dojo). Kickboxing is still wildly out of my comfort zone. I still have that insistent voice that tells me I’m not cut out for this. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. It doesn’t mean I can’t push myself physically, get stronger, and become more co-ordinated. I’ve got too many things I want (need) to achieve to worry about that. There’s an orange sash to work for, a brown belt, burning feet to ignore, points to score, and lovely, lovely people to kick in the head.

And that’s the final, brilliant thing about this kickboxing school – the people it draws to it. I’ve never met such a diverse, caring, funny, sensitive, powerful, knowing, emotional (in a good way), supportive and hard to hit bunch of people in my life. My experience of sports halls, football fields, and the like has always been a lonely one – until I came to KB. You’re not on your own in this school. We may not know each other very well – the odd chat during stretch, drinks every few months – but it’s hard to think of any of my closest friends with whom I’ve been on such an epic and fulfilling journey. It’s pure comradeship and I feel lucky to be part of it.