Wireless Festival (Bella Union Stage) – Hyde Park, London

The Bella Union Stage is back, a bastion of talent and musicianship in the depths of er, the Wireless Festival.

This year, Bella Union showcase an incredible lineup of Bella and non-Bella bands on a comparatively tiny bandstand, bobbing gently on the ocean of corporate sponsor tents and within earshot of the intermittent ‘performances’ from the nearby UGG boots fashion show installation. (Yes, really. There’s ripe for parody and then there’s just rotten.)

Saturday 4th July
Jesca Hoop opens proceedings on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. With her gently sculpted soft-as-steam voice she floats out a series of beautiful, slightly baroque ballads, battling bravely against the thunderous, pounding bullshit that’s now thumping out of the dance tent at an unusually high volume. She strikes up a rapport with the crowd and initiates cute banter with groups sat on the grass nearby. “This is nothing!” she says, in reference to thudding beat that threatens to interrupt her set. “I’ve played in much crazier environments than this!”. She knows Tom Waits too. What’s not to like?

Next comes a real treat. The sun is still beating down when Chimes and Bells take the stage. Soon they’ll be packing out London venues but this afternoon they’re turning faces in Hyde park from bemused to enraptured with their masterfully melodramatic, dreamy chamber-indie. They’re utterly fantastic; churning out a rich, sultry performance – deep and involved. The irresistible rhythmic climax of ‘Into Pieces of Wood’ has to be one of the highlights of the entire festival. Exciting is barely the word for this Danish quartet. Utterly brilliant.

The essex boys and indie-cindys have been downing overpriced cider for a few hours by the time Beth Jeans Houghton’s set gets underway but she makes short work of winning over elements of the beery crowd. On good form and in sufficiently eccentric attire she works through her set of quirky folk until tragedy strikes and a hole is punctured in the drummers kick drum (which is actually a suitcase). “It’s me mum’s, she’ll murder uz!” exclaims the drummer. It’s okay, he turns it around to use the unpunctured side and the set is able to finish undisrupted.

Time for TLOBF favorite Banjo or Freakout. Allessio has been hanging out for most of the day looking all Italian and cool and the time has come for him to take to the stage and build some epic walls of post-post-something-or-other. He crafts lush folds of gorgeous sound out into hazy afternoon. It’s definitely a dynamic better suited to a sweaty club, but it still works wonderfully.

Fanfarlo are truly incredible. A few shirtless, lagered up idiots take up position in front of the stage with every intention of taking the piss, but after waving their arms sarcastically for a few seconds even they are taken in, despite themselves. Then they start fucking around and accidentally kick a girl in the head. Never mind, lads, it was good while it lasted, eh? Meanwhile, Fanfarlo produce a fulsome, romantic cascade of beautiful melodies, providing a perfect end to a day of fantastic music.

Sunday 5th July
Another gorgeous day in Hyde park opens with The Low Anthem softly etching their existential lullaby Oh My God, Charlie Darwin into the warm summer air, as sweet and delicate as a crystal of sugar. It’s a perfect start until the power goes out. Eventually, things are put right but only in time for trio to play a short two songs, Ben Knox Miller simultaneously showing of his drumming ability and bluesman’s voice while Jeff Prystowsky jams on the double bass.

My Latest Novel are mercifully relatively untroubled by technical problems and kick out a triumphant volley of soft-edged post rock, dramatically melodic and wonderfully crafted. Audience reaction ranges from highly enthusiastic to vaguely bemused. You can’t please everyone.

In the interests of fairness (and to avoid blind snobbishness) it’s worth pointing out that a decent number of Wireless attendees had the open mindedness to sit and explore acts such as My Latest Novel, listening and clapping politely even if they didn’t find them to be their particular cup of tea. However, the Wireless festival at large continues to exist as an embodiment of this country’s landfill culture, precipitated by artificial landfill cultural movements, themselves generated and driven by cynical corporate marketeering rather than any true appreciation for artistry. Less a festival, more a circus.

Danish composer/soloist Peter Broderick takes to the Bella stage next with his piano, guitar, violin and looper pedal and makes instant fans layering up melodies and vocals, hopping down into the crowd and playing violin on his knees, stacking up heaps of noise, swirling sharp-edged refrains and bittersweet vocal hooks. His set is sadly ended for him a song early when …the power dies again.

Power restored and the with the day drawing to a close St Vincent plays out this festival of the most exciting prospects in indie music for the next six months with a suitably electric set of intelligent and progressive indie rock songs. Highlights include ‘Marry Me’ and ‘Marrow’, augmented by the full band set-up they sparkle and inspire, Annie Clark’s performance is passionate and effortlessly cool. St Vincent is hyped a lot at the moment, but this is why.

Another year at Wireless draws to a close for Bella Union. A dream line-up in the midst of a of a corporate landfill nightmare. A who’s who of people to see live when you get the chance.

Apparently Kanye West played too.

All photographs by Anika Mottershaw