- The Dutch are blessed with some of the best festivals in the world. But A Camping Flight To Lowlands Paradise—Lowlands for short—is undoubtedly in a league of its own. It's one of those rare events that sell out long before the line-up is announced, with visitors attracted by what they commonly refer to as "the Lowlands feeling."
The more you visit Lowlands, the more it feels like a homecoming. The festival started in 1992 and since then has built up a loyal following of visitors ranging from old-timers nearing their forties to the newcomers in their late teens, and from diehard rock fans to seasoned ravers. The set-up this year was practically the same as ever. One rucial change was the swapping of Lima and X-Ray, now placing all of the electronic music oriented stages in one area. You could sense that the organization was focusing more on its dance music audience.
Friday
With a shitload of quality bands to choose from and a weather forecast the Dutch mostly dream of, Friday had a lot in store for Lowlands. By noon, the scorching sun had cleared away any trace of mud from the tropical storm the night before. So after an amusing half hour of Belgian electro-prankster Stijn we were faced with the first dilemma: Juan Maclean, Passion Pit or Bon Iver? We chose the latter, and thankfully so. Lead singer Justin Vernon immediately struck a nerve with his mesmerizing voice, leaving a trail of goose bumps across his enchanted audience. Then something bizarre happened. As a visual incarnation of his frail hymns, a stray butterfly flew onto the stage during the closing song "What Might Have Been Lost," adding an extra bit of magic to this memorable moment.
As the sunbeams became more bearable, we treated to a rare performance from Junior Boys on Dutch soil. The group's intangible synthesizer sounds were answered with nothing but cheers, and with the dance floor exploding during their greatest hit "Like a Child," it was obvious that Junior Boys' next Lowlands appearance would have to be at one of the larger stages.
When night falls, one is drawn to darker sounds. In the X-Ray, the most experimental and interesting stage of the festival, IDM-legend Chris Clark was ripping the dance floor apart. His insanely complex rhythmic patterns made Tiga's electro house in the neighboring tent sound shallow and stale. Luckily Dixon partially made up for Tiga's set with a banging three hour performance. Unfortunately the volume had to stay down due to complaining neighbors (yes, Holland can be a strange place) so a lot of his set's brilliance got lost in translation.
Saturday
One would expect Saturday to be the best day of the weekend. But on Lowlands it's usually the most boring. This year was no exception. Especially the daytime program was extremely disappointing. Moderat formed the only musical highlight during another scorcher of a day. While the combination of the two amazing acts doesn't take things to an even higher level—a Moderat show basically sounds like an Apparat remix of a Modeselektor album—they still knew how to rock, blending different styles into one powerful hour of dynamic sounds. Definitely worth schlepping our hungover asses out into the burning sun for.
Fortunately, the night had a lot more in store for dance music aficionados. The Bravo tent was the domain of Dutch techno's finest. First up was Kabale und Liebe, who fired up the crowd with a superb selection of new school house and techno, followed up by mister Amsterdam New School himself—2000 And One—who treated the crowd to one of his energetic live sets. Adding some melodrama to the rhythmical mayhem of the Dutch, Paul Kalkbrenner turned it up a notch Berlin-style. All went well until he played "Castles in the Sky," a track currently in the Dutch Top 40 and one which is definitely in the running for the cheesiest vocals of 2009. Thankfully, Speedy J finished things off with some merciless Rotterdam techno.
The most interesting sounds could once again be heard in the X-Ray, where one of Holland's best and most underrated DJs was playing one of his inspiring sets. I-f may be renowned among connoisseurs worldwide, but in his own country he definitely does not get the recognition he deserves. At Lowlands he proved his superiority once again with an amazing two hours full of long lost gems from the vaults of his vast music collection.
Sunday
Sure, Squarepusher was playing at two in the afternoon. But at this point in the weekend, with energy fading faster than fossil fuels, you had to choose your spots wisely. So we decided to start the day off with a bit of Snoop Dogg. The 40-year old Snoop couldn't fully live up to expectations. He fell into the same trap most of his fellow rappers do when faced with Holland's lenient marijuana-laws. After 15 years of hip-hop shows, the umpteenth reference to legal chronic smoking becomes quite tiresome, trust us.
Even more tiresome is the obligatory Michael Jackson tribute, which seems to be infesting this summer's festival sets like a cancer. After hearing at least five of them in three days, we were almost at the point of hating "Billie Jean." Even The Whitest Boy Alive took a shot at an MJ-evergreen, possibly to underline that his death truly left them the palest on the planet. Either way, the rest of their set was surely more inspiring. Erlend Oye and his band have a huge following in The Netherlands: everyone in the Bravo tent was chanting along to TWBA's unpretentious pop songs.
The absolute highlight of the day—and festival—was without a doubt pop legend and fashion icon Grace Jones. Each year, Lowlands stages at least one idol of 20th century pop music. And up to now, Jones has been by far the most impressive. Her resilience and musical soundness at sixty was simply flabbergasting. But what else could be expected after her powerful return with last year's Hurricane? Jones didn't shy away from exposing her tight buns during "Pull Up to the Bumper" and she even hula hooped her way through ten minutes of "Slave to the Rhythm," leaving the entire Grolsch tent awe-struck at one of the most amazing shows of the summer.
After a closing night of crazy contrasts (hopping anywhere from German housefreak Koze to happy hardcore legend The Darkraver) we ended up at the 24 hour Café, and were systematically slaughtered by Amsterdam's after hour king Boris Werner. Looking at this remarkable place with all its crazy inhabitants (some people were breakdancing, dressed as grannies; others were barging across the dance floor uncontrollably, strapped to each other like Siamese twins) the scene reminded me of crazy raves I'd been to 15 years ago. Maybe what people call the Lowlands feeling is a remnant of the unity and freedom that used to reign on '90s dance floors—with an indie rock twist. Where else in Holland does such a diverse group of people still get the chance to express themselves in unison like they do at Lowlands?
But even this last stronghold of insanity is being threatened by the graveness of today's outside world. This year, warnings of Mexican flu were posted on every wall of the site, urging us to wash our hands as much as possible. Moreover, Holland's new drug policy on festivals, aptly named "zero tolerance," cast another shadow on Lowlands. Undercover cops dressed like normal visitors were roaming the grounds like secret agents. Anyone with minimal amounts of drugs was taken to their compounds, assessed a fine and left with a criminal record. In a liberal place like The Netherlands, this procedure would have been absolutely unheard of ten years ago. But even here, the times are a changin'.
Photo credits - Wendy Oakes