Lovebox Weekender 2010, Day 3

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  • Put together by dance duo Groove Armada, Lovebox is set in the leafy environs of Victoria Park in London's east end and was blessed with the blistering weather which has garnished so many of this year's outdoor events in the UK. The sun continually beat down over the course of the weekend, burning a crowd who witnessed grime-crossover pop star Dizzee Rascal headlining on Friday, then revivalist rockers Roxy Music the following evening. We were booked in for an audience with pop star, model, actress and all-round nutcase Grace Jones on the Sunday. So to ready ourselves, the night before was spent getting tanked up outside the perimeter fence and listening to Roxy gracefully glide through a collection of hits and slightly less obvious moments from their back catalogue. Young girls were thrown out while cat-like fellows scaled trees to seek better views of the elderly statesmen delivering the likes of "Ladytron," "More Than This," "Love Is the Drug" and "Let's Get Together." They provided a suitably languid soundtrack to a balmy evening in the park. Photo credit: Katrina James By the time we entered the arena the following day, the venue was scorched and dusty, much like many of the revellers. The Gaymer's stage proved to be our first and most enduring home for the afternoon. Local punk funk types We Have Band were the soundtrack to the first of numerous ciders and proved that their anaemic recorded take on guitar based-dance was a much livelier prospect live. Drawing from the same combo of bass and cowbell as !!! and LCD, the likes of Honeytrap were a perfect way to begin the day-long dance in the sunshine. By contrast, DFA's Holy Ghost! lacked the elastic backbone of the Londoners. The most entertaining part of their set was the moves they inspired in one wiry old raver whom, between massive blasts of poppers, spent the entire set gyrating against the ground only dressed in a leotard and a g-string. The rest of the festival site was full of similarly colourful, yet less disturbing sights. Tree houses, flags, myriad bars devoted to Pimm's and random vans with Funktion One sound systems embedded in their back. Lovebox's vibe is similar to an urban Bestival with enough nooks and crannies to ensure it stands out from other events London has to offer. Photo credit: Katrina James Horse Meat Disco and Disco Bloodbath's NYC downlow looked spectacular from the outside with a motel set complete with purring trannies and a NY taxi embedded into its wall. But the big queues of sleaze-loving disco aficionados sent us back to the Rizla stage where the Hot Chip DJs and Chicago house stalwart Derrick Carter were laying down a euphoric dinner time set of Classic-style techy bangers. It was the perfect soundtrack to dancing through air, thick with hands, sweat and dust. The suited Hurts played sweeping stadium Pet Shops-esque business on the main stage while Cut Copy and Chromeo served up two equally rabble rousing dishes of electronic pop. But despite tunes such as "Hearts on Fire" and "Fancy Footwork" both provoking bouts of mad flaying and raving, as the sun went down all roads led to Grace Jones on the main stage. Photo credit: Nick Ensing Emerging 25 minutes late from behind a curtain, the towering diva opened with a prowling version of "Nightclubbing" before salaciously roaming through the best bits of her back catalogue. The one-time James Bond villain strutted through "My Jamaican Guy" and "Williams' Blood" via a variety of dazzling costume and headgear changes. The park was just about large enough to contain her personality, her performance outdazzling any of the younger pretenders to her pop throne. "Pull Up to the Bumper" and a rendition of the previous headliner's "Love Is the Drug" before her set climaxed with "Slave to the Rhythm," which she hula hooped all the way through. She was the perfect climax to a day of dance which was full of clubbers currently in thrall to the disco sounds which spawned her. For a lady of pensionable age, she still provokes stirrings in certain places her younger contemporaries don't even know of.
RA