- With the summer failing miserably to get into gear, the weather’s become a sore point for us Brits as we wallow in disappointment and constant rain. Meteorologists will remember 2007 for all the wrong reasons, but amidst the gloom there’s still been the occasional cause for celebration. If you chose just one weekend to brave the elements this summer, the August Bank holiday would have been a good pick as London experienced a mini heatwave.
The seventh appearance of SW4 was another temptation to venture out, and with tickets disappearing weeks before the event, expectations were high. The draw was such that one obsessive fan even returned to the touts being denied entrance on a £75 counterfeit pass, and he'd shelled out the same again to secure his entrance. Averaging out at £20 an hour – for him at least – it’s a steep price to pay, but then again his enthusiasm was understandable. As with previous years, the line-up sat slightly to the left of mainstream with national treasures Sasha, Pete Tong, John Digweed and Steve Lawler backed up by the odd Dutch and German icon. If you want to indulge in star DJ-spotting, SW4 is the place to be.
First up were three of London’s finest, SOS, who took to the stage a full forty-five minutes before the paying public made it through the gates. The bulk of their set was spent entertaining an empty field, and after experiencing something similar in 2006, Desyn Masiello seemed a little disappointed. “It gets to you a bit when there isn’t anyone about much to respond to what you’re doing”, he admitted after they finished. “Then again, your attitude is more relaxed because it gives you space to play around. There was one moment when all three of us were mixing at the same time for a good six or seven minutes, so there were three tracks going at once. It’s like a game of chicken: who’s gonna back out first?"
The end results were impressive – or at least the last ten minutes I caught were – and by the end of the set the crowd had grown progressively more enthusiastic. Innovative and brimming with energetic beats, they showed that three heads are sometimes better than one. They deserved a better timeslot. “We noticed Steve Lawler was actually the first one to be out on the field listening to us today," Desyn laughed. "So we’ll try and return the compliment later."
Looking as well groomed as ever, Roger Sanchez followed with a trademark surge of euphoric, sun-kissed house interspersed with vocal cuts, including 'Jacques Your Body' and 'Sweet Dreams'. The feel-good tone was ideally judged, and while there was nothing ground-breaking on display, both the DJ and his record collection sounded in their element. There was a distinctive tribal undertone to Sanchez’ set, an undertone that extended across to the Bedrock tent at the other end of the grounds, where SOS' No. 1 fan was spinning his early afternoon slot. In recent interviews, Lawler has said that he’s moving towards techier sounds ("If I were still playing that heavy tribal percussive sound, I wouldn't be DJing now," he told RA last month. "I'd be bored shitless") so it was a surprise to hear him spin such a hypnotic, drum-laden set. Given the time of day, it sounded uninspired and failed to lift the mood or excite the senses as much as hoped. The flower-strewn canopy with its inflatable vines swinging precariously overhead wasn't quite working either: in this weather, it was a stifling heat-trap.
Next up was Sander Kleinenberg, who imported the pretension-free, feel-good approach of the main stage to the Bedrock arena. Lean, lithe and flexible, the pace twisted from peak to peak with popular hooks (such as 'Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger') torn apart and repackaged in the mix. Backed by his customary visuals, the set was sadly lacking a repeat of the climactic 'This Is London' finale of 2006 that had thousands of cockneys grinning foolishly at the absurd pleasure of it all, but even so it provided a much-needed sense of fun and it was hard not to be carried along.
For those in search of a deeper, darker fix, the 'Ibiza Underground' tent played host to bleepy, techier sounds. Affirming her love of summer festivals, Smokin’ Jo was enthusiastic before her set. "It’s nice to do things outside sweaty clubs and see different people in the crowd," she explained. "I started off in the after-hours clubs playing techno and deep house, and then got into more happy stuff. Now I feel I’ve gone back again to the style I really like. I think musically, house got a bit boring and a bit too cheesy. You felt like you’d heard all the vocals before and it was time to go back down and get a bit dark. I don’t know exactly what I’m gonna do with my slot today, but I was downloading new music this morning so I guess we’ll just see what happens."
'Dark' is certainly an accurate description of what she'd brought along, although there was nothing downbeat about her clicky selections or the dazzling smile she flashed above the heads of the crowd. There was a real pace and attitude to her set that went down especially well with the blond Cristiano Ronaldo-lookalike in full Portugal football strip who bounced away at the front of the tent. Later on, Hernan Cattaneo – never the most expressive DJ – couldn’t quite match Smokin’ Jo’s smile, but the way he built his set and coaxed arms into the air was mesmerizing: a real sign of class.
Before the heavyweight attractions arrived to play out the night, we spent the late afternoon on a whistle-stop tour of the arena to indulge in some DJ-spotting. Backed by live guitars and percussion, Shapeshifters' new material added soulfulness to their sound, and the uplifting feel of 'Incredible' was a pleasant soundtrack to the blazing sunshine. Looking enviably tanned, Pete Tong laid down a tried and tested set of electro house, all the while towelling himself down between tracks like a seasoned tennis pro. Polished and smooth, his set stayed safely within the boundaries of popular taste and entertained without challenging the status quo or providing any big moments. There was no such concern for hygiene or decorum in the Harderfaster arena, which boasted by far the most energetic atmosphere of the day. Trance is trying its best to shake a poor reputation and leading the effort are youngsters like Sander Van Doorn. His hybrid tech-trance style was ideal for open-air arenas like Clapham Common and with head-spinning melodies set to pounding, driving rhythms, there was no real option but to dance.
Back on the main stage, the over-zealous MC was managing to outstay his welcome, while the constant advertising for SW4’s ‘Summer Anthems’ compilation were also an irritating distraction. Most festivals have corporate elements these days, but when you’re enjoying a party in the blistering heat of a summer’s afternoon, the last thing you need is encouragement to spend your hard earned cash (the bars were taking care of that).
Musically, though, the festival peaked with the trademark wavy, ambient efforts of Sasha, who was illuminated against a trippy, technicolour troop of Care Bears, Mario Brothers and marching Lego men on the video wall behind him. Moving fluidly from glistening vocals to glitchy electronica, Sasha spent most of the set with his attention focused on his console and equipment, looking up occasionally to grin and salute the crowd with an overhead handclap. Laptop DJs have their critics, but when the end product sounds this good, it’s hard to remain sceptical for long. A constant flow of ecstatic peaks meant there was hardly time to pause for breath, let alone worry about what the shaven-headed figure was doing on the stage. The crowd was far less composed by this stage of the day, and a young girl perched on her dad’s shoulders wearing a giant pair of ear-defenders attracted raucous cheers as she traded high-fives with everyone around her. So much for the over-18s door policy!
Despite a grand introduction that made continuous reference to his status in the opinion polls as the 'No. 1 DJ in the world', Paul van Dyk's set was comparatively low key: a solid effort, but not the rousing finale you’d expect for such an event. As lasers snaked across the crowd and flamethrowers gushed from the front of the stage, he teased the crowd with a snatch of 'Born Slippy' and a brawny remix of 'For An Angel' before reverting to dreamy trance. All in all, it failed to convince, although admittedly tiredness and wandering concentration were creeping in at the end of a nine-hour marathon. Back in the Bedrock tent however, John Digweed abandoned all pleasantries in favour of filthy, techy house and despite New Order’s ‘True Faith’ sounding a little out of place, his set had the euphoric, uplifting effect that was needed to round off the night.
In seven years, SW4 has grown from a “backyard party in the company of 200 party-crazed Aussies” into a mainstay of the festival calendar. The Aussies continue to attend in force and while the event lacks the intimacy of a nightclub or the sheer decadence that comes with a late license (the party finished somewhat inevitably at 9pm), it more than compensates with a capacity crowd and a cast of world-renowned performers. Even the weather cooperated, and having put a dampener on much of the British summer, the arrival of the Bank holiday heat wave was perfectly timed. Stood in a field of throbbing sound with thousands of arms held aloft, it felt like we’d finally got our day in the sun.