Best Concerts of Sziget 2016 #9: M83

As the A38 tent became larger and more centrally situated, the organizers started packing it with ever better acts, so much so that it technically became the festival's main attraction to a rather numerous crowd, which numerous crowd gets stuck outside it every now and then. This is promptly followed by floods of complaints about how dangerous it all was and how unfair it is that popular acts should be programmed to a stage which has a very precise capacity, unlike the outdoors venues. The whole situation is of course made even more complicated by the infamous 11 PM main stage curfew, so acts which need darkness as a backdrop but don't necessarily have the pull of an undisputed main stage headliner will unavoidably end up in the A38 tent. 

Case in point, M83. As the baffled crowd started to disperse after Sia's show, it became ever more evident that the flood is aimed almost exclusively at two targets, namely the exits and A38. (Which actually has a second sponsor these days, major Hungarian bank OTP, a situation which creates much confusion when rookies call it OTP stage and most people inform them they are very wrong and should look for their Holy Grail somewhere else.)

I will very frankly admit that when M83 came on my radar, which was pretty late and naturally around the time of hit single Midnight City, I assumed them to be firstly a band in the full sense of the word, and secondly American. After some careful investigation I however learned that they are basically the musical project of Frenchman Anthony Gonzalez, who by 2011 happened to live in LA, which is a very rock and roll thing to do even if your actual genre is electronic music. I also realized M83 had actually remixed Bloc Party's The Pioneer for their remixed retake of Silent Alarm, and that was one of my favourite tracks from the album. 

So I was basically somehow aware of their existence, yet hardly ever listened to them- which actually stays true to the present day. There is that category of bands you somehow fancy, will nod in recognition when their name is mentioned, you might even name check and enjoy some of their songs but they'll just never enter your heavy rotation playlist, nor will you spend time listening to any of their full albums. I had however been informed by people in the know that M83 is pretty spectacular live, therefore I made sure to sneak into the tent on time, and I was not disappointed.

Songs which seemed pretty dull and uniform in their recorded version got a new lease of life on stage. Returning to the starting point of this piece, they are actually perfectly matched for the size of A38- the band filled the space very well and looked confident and comfortable doing so, while the visual backdrops were visible to most of those in attendance, thus ensuring that everyone enjoys the show at its full value. And although M83 is mostly a one man endeavour when it comes to writing the music, they came off as one of the most cohesive acts of the festival. As a photographer, you're often stuck with your lens pointed at the lead singer with everyone else lost in the dark background, but with M83 there were plenty of exciting things to snap wherever you looked. This flurry of activity could be sensed in the musical delivery as well, which kept you connected from beginning to end. Speaking of which, Lower Your Eyelids To Die With The Sun works wonderfully as the outro for a concert- when first hearing it I could totally picture it as the soundtrack for the scene of a movie in which our heroes are shot out into outer space in slow motion, and if M83 manage to replicate that feeling when closing their show- they do- it means that they're doing things right.

The song also reminds me of Sigur Rós, so let me then mention how they won't make it to the top ten, and it's absolutely not their fault. Having them play at 7 PM in the run up to Muse is a recipe for disaster. They probably fell victim to a state of limbo in their popularity: they have a steady and pretty religious following, but probably not enough for the 9:30 PM slot. On the other hand the organizers might have been afraid of the A38 stampede factor and sent them into exile between a colour party and the operatic hysteria of Muse. The end result was akin to asking a bunch of frenzied Labradors to quietly watch the descent of a falling star- the stars burns, twinkles and fades bringing with it the icy beauty of outer space, but all the Labrador will want is something to fetch, and you can't really grasp a shooting star. 

Some Mondays are Better than Others- Sziget Day Four

The fourth day of the festival proved to be the polar opposite of the third when it comes to concerts, as if it was trying exceedingly hard to make up for being a Monday-not that you really know what day of the week is when you're on Sziget: from 4 PM both the main stage and A38 had a pretty strong showing basically in each time slot, thus prompting frequent commutes which proved to be ever more challenging as the day progressed. Festival commuting is a questionable, albeit natural behaviour: you start developing a sort of musical ADD, especially towards the last days when you get increasingly tired: you give an act five minutes, and if they can't win those, to the bin with them. Sometimes you stay undecided, linger longer at a gig than expected, then wander into the next one without a frame of reference- oddly enough, you may miss a large chunk of shows and still have a decent idea about them if you catch either the opening or the closing track.

We were therefore on duty at 4 PM when Years and Years pulled a minor Rihanna and came (un)fashionably late, but lead singer Olly Alexander is as charming as he is slight and seems to genuinely enjoy being on the island, so they're off the hook for this one. He has all the right to be pleased, as the crowd assembled in front of the stage is pretty staggering for such an early slot, and will not be replicated during the day until Sia's headline show. The groupie brigade is on the barricades, looking all flowery and glittery- a great match for the band's bubblegum electro, which nevertheless seems to grown on you in the balmy afternoon breeze. Quite unrelated to the band's otherwise strong performance, the weather is basically festival perfect, warm but timidly overcast, so you can comfortably hang out in skimpy outfits without getting lethally sunburnt.

Next up are the Kaiser Chiefs, returning to the island minus their classic drummer Nick Hodgson, but with a re-invigorated and slimmed down Ricky Wilson sporting a rather splendid yellow jacket, fresh off his stint as a coach on the BBC's The Voice, which I find somehow puzzling for someone vying for indie cred. I was also pretty doubtful about their more recent material, which consistently failed to live up to their first two records, and especially the first, as I do consider Employment one of the often overlooked minor classics of noughties guitar music. In a therefore somewhat natural way the intensity of the concert seems to waver when the band plays newer material, but you really can't go wrong at a festival when you deliver zingers like I Predict a Riot and Oh My God. It also helps that Wilson is in constant connection with the crowd, cajoling them into singalongs- since I was already musing on the strange nature of festival performances I can now venture into concluding that the Kaiser Chiefs ticked all the right boxes. 

In a case of the above mentioned ADD, we briefly left the main stage to check out The Neighbourhood in A38, and I kind of wish I didn't as what I saw of their gig couldn't shake off the feeling that they're one of those typical okay bands. There's nothing inherently wrong with their music, but they never do anything exceptional, releasing scores of very similar songs which will result in a small but religious following and hardly anything else. The followers were in the crowd, the tunes were delivered, many people were happy and I grabbed a coffee and returned to the Kaiser Chiefs, both of which had the welcome effect of jolting me back into life. 

At 7 PM there came a confetti party, and we had some new masters of the ceremony. Here I must confess criminal ignorance- ever since the special parties were added to the festival bill, we usually had the same person leading us up to the throwing/shaking/rattling of colourful somethings, he loves to talk about peace, unity, friendship, in a somewhat annoying but also very fitting way and I have no idea who he is. I could of course resort to google now, but won't, because we all know ignorance is sometimes bliss. Suffice to say that two new people entertained us yesterday, it was pretty cringe-worthy, and I want the previous person back pronto. 

Since it's confession time, I will also admit to having had mixed feelings about Noel Gallagher showing up with a band that is not Oasis- because I am such a nice and fair person, I harbour exactly the same feelings about Liam's band which is not Oasis. I love them both to shreds, Oasis was one of the defining musical experiences of my teens, and in Noel's case you can't but notice just how amazing he is as a musician- he writes great songs like you and I breathe. It's just that these songs are not anthems anymore and although I found the show perfectly enjoyable it was also a bit sedate, something akin to a Ferrari with a hand break on looking for a comfortable parking spot. 

Noel was therefore left to his own devices while we checked out Chvrches in A38 and I am happy to say Chvrches, while not being exactly a musical Ferrari, did not have the hand break on either. Lead singer Lauren is a bundle of energy running up and down the stage, and as the gig progresses the energy becomes contagious and you suddenly feel like dancing a bit, then a bit more, and of being transported to a temporary happy place. Lauren's overwhelming stage presence does have the downside that, when the lead singer role is temporarily switched, a rather large number of people decides to leave the tent, but the show soon recovers pace and finishes off nicely with the band's best known tracks. 

In the meantime this day sells out as well, and we're ready for the main stage headliner. Or most people though they were ready but had no idea of what was coming their way. Sia has always been a slightly puzzling presence: she's been releasing music for almost two decades now and is the writer of some of the most popular hits out there, but only found real fame recently and seems as uncomfortable with it as could be. She therefore landed on Sziget's main stage with a show which consisted of her sporting her now classical wig hiding her eyes, standing very still for the whole time, belting hit after hit while dancers performed around her and leaving those in attendance somewhere between the incredulous and the delighted. I myself am exactly halfway in between: the performance piece itself is great and I would have gladly watched it in a smaller venue with a a good view of  what's happening onstage being available to all those present. 

But on Sziget, late in the evening, somewhere in the darkened distance of the main stage's bowels it just fell flat on it's face. I would have also really enjoyed a live band, which I don't think is too much to ask from a live concert, after all. At the end of it I felt like someone who wants to cross a river, and instead of a boat is given a golden butterfly: the thing is most definitely beautiful, but it just won't get me to the other side. 

The day ends with this edition's French love in in A38, and my delight at having correctly predicted that the tent will reach full capacity and thus rushing there on time to catch M83. Quite fittingly for a band named after a galaxy, their deep space inspired visuals are splendid and perfectly complement that kind of electronica which seems to be an exclusive talent of the French- it's catchy enough to almost enter the realm of pop, but also cold enough to appeal to those with more outré tastes. 

Later, as our boat was slowly rocking downstream the Danube, it of course dawned on me that this was the last but one day, which is frankly ridiculous. But that is nothing new, each year, although you get increasingly exhausted and your body signals that this insanity has been going on for too long, you still feel as if it's only just began and want more of it. Much more.

Names, Dates, Numbers: Sziget 2016 is Starting to Happen

The other day, as I was idling home on Andrássy avenue, I saw the Christmas lights being turned on, and suddenly I went all gooey and mushy inside: ’Awww, there, it looks just like Sziget.’ While this might seem a bad case of getting your priorities wrong, I daresay it isn’t. Sziget’s night lights are just as pretty come day, while the ones on Andrássy look like pathetic little plastic snakes that crawled onto the avenue’s unsuspecting trees.

Sziget never gets bogged down by the mundane hassles of everyday life and that’s why in the cold heart of winter, when the warmest bit of your flat probably has the temperature of the coolest and windiest corner of the summer island, you wish you were back.

You also meet people in coffee shops and bars who wish they were back, and exile together becomes a bit sweeter, you reminisce together over photos, mark your calendar as totally engaged from August 10 to 17 next year, and make plans. Plus fret over who’s going to be on the line up, of course. You have your little list, check band tour schedules and keep your fingers crossed.

And then here comes the morning when you wear a Cheshire cat perched on a tree grin on your face, or well, there’s kind of no trees in Iceland, so you might as well be perched on the rim of some improbably named volcano: Sigur Rós are coming to our little island, and it’s going to be superb. (Insert random thought here: with a count of 441.000, Sziget has more szitizens than Iceland, we might as well send our own football team to the next European Championships then.) 

We can further rejoice over news of MØ (I can use my favourite letter again in a hopefully majestic concert review, yes I can ) becoming a Sziget repeat offender, joining Parov Stelar and M83 in the club. Naughty Boy, Kodaline and John Newman move us in no particular way, but they must have their fans as well- Bring Me the Horizon definitely do, and they do move us in very particular ways, which on Sziget will manifest themselves 'as as far away from wherever BMTH are as we can'.  But even that makes us happy, since spilling vitriol over a concert or two is a compulsory experience that not proper festival can do without.