- A long list of DJs and the phrase "Wiese, Wald, Strand und Meer!"—German for "Meadow, Forest, Beach and Sea!"—were pretty much the only information provided for Plötzlich Am Meer 2015. For the second year in a row, the chosen venue was a former military base right on Poland's Baltic coast. Leaving aside the diverse array of live acts and DJs who played across the weekend, the most memorable element of last month's edition was the incredible atmosphere.
Entering the festival on the opening night I was immediately struck by the considerable effort the organisers had gone to. Open-air and situated in what felt like the middle of nowhere, the vast, gritty former airbase was decorated with glowing lanterns, floating dreamcatchers and many other pretty adornments. One stage resembled a huge wooden wolf (or was it a fox?) that hosted DJs in its open mouth. Speaking to a few regulars, I learned that the festival had nearly tripled in size since the first edition, but that the original spirit remained. Despite being several hours from the border, the majority of the clientele were German, and were a colourful, playful bunch. The queues for the bar, toilets and the festival's own currency—"Plötzskis"—were reasonable, and even at the busiest stages there was always space to dance and places on the periphery to chill.
At the first stage I visited, the sound was clear and immersive. These high standards were upheld across the site—in the morning you could hear the unexpected tones of Dean Martin's "That's Amore" and Warren G's "Regulate" wafting over from the Endstation stage. The Endstation was a really charming addition to the festival: every time I walked past someone was playing something different, from industrial techno to '80s Whitney Houston, and the attendees looked to be having a wild time.
The first set I saw, by Jack Hämmer at the Humbug stage, was full of melancholic tech house with drawn-out bass synths and wistful vocals. He dropped &ME's "Woods," the first of many plays at the festival, and although anthemic tech house is not usually my bag, the track's tense arpeggios sounded great on the soundsystem. Click Click turned out one of the best sets of the weekend at the Forkel Gork stage, playing jackin' house to an appreciative crowd. One guy even who fought his way to the front in order to hold up a sign that said "VOLL SCHÖN"—German for "Full of Beauty"— to a smiling Click Click. Across the weekend, if felt like the DJs were particularly tapped into their audience's needs, maybe because many of them were part of the festival as opposed to just performers. On several occasions I saw DJs from the night before dancing in the crowd the following morning.
The beach at Plötzlich Am Meer was one of the site's best spots. As Henrik Schwarz's remix of Emmanuel Jal's "Juar" filled the air from the Tentakel Bar, hundreds were dancing on the golden sand, while a dedicated few fist-pumped cheerfully in the freezing sea. As Saturday drew to a close, Cuthead's funky house soundtracked the breathtaking sunset, dropping Cottam's catchy afro-rework "B side EP 2." Later that night, the Forkel Gork was packed for sets from Kollektiv Turmstrasse, who played live, and Konstantin Sibold. The former went first, leading with a powerful, somber piano line before dropping into their signature emotive minimal. Sibold was dancing and smiling throughout his set, playing uptempo house like Friend Within's refix of "Renegade Master" and his own "Madeleine." The lights and projections during both sets had a cinematic quality, matching trippy, bright patterns to the music.
What makes Plötzlich Am Meer so special is the people. From the grinning guy who sat next to me screaming "Wunderschöne Prinzessinnen!"("Beautiful Princess!") at people walking by in sparkly outfits, to the group who went to join my friend sitting alone on the beach because "they didn't think that anyone should be on their own." Throw in some top-notch production and fantastic music, and the result was a carefree and thoroughly enjoyable few days.