- The cosy scent of burning wood wafted through the air. On the uppermost terrace of Alsisar Mahal, around 20 or 30 people—mostly Indians, some foreigners—sat cross-legged before a troupe of Rajasthani folk musicians dressed to the nines in traditional garb. They performed 1000-year old songs about snakes and nearby rivers and unrequited love, gesturing to the sky and warbling animatedly over an entrancing blend of accordion-like keys, rhythmic clacks and boomy percussion. (Similar to this.) Behind them, the sun set slowly against a pastel fade of blues and oranges.
Six hours earlier, when I'd begun my trip from New Delhi airport to this 16th-century palace in rural Rajasthan, things hadn't been so peaceful. I kept nodding off in the front seat of my taxi, jolted awake every few minutes by the cacophony of rush hour traffic. Outside the city, cars were replaced by carts and camels as we careered past potholes and through endless sleepy market scenes with men selling fruit from battered wagons. Everyone travelling to Magnetic Fields Festival, whether from within India or further afield, experiences some version of this epic, at times hair-raising, journey. When you finally get to the palace, crack open a beer and take in the weekend's first performance, you really feel like you've earned it.
Indeed, there can't be many festival settings more rewarding to the weary traveller. Alsisar Mahal is a majestic venue, cream-coloured and leafy, with numerous cubby holes and elegant courtyards for kicking back in. Punters were left free to roam the building at all hours, lending the weekend a playful, easygoing feel. Security was minimal and discreet. It's these kinds of details that elevate a festival to something more than just a gathering of people and musicians.
A heady mix of post-journey restlessness, disorientation and wonderment meant Friday was ripe for celebration. Rush Hour's Cinnaman, a last-minute replacement for Baris K, had clearly got the memo, hammering out classics like Q's "The Voice Of 'Q'" at RBMA North Stage. Set up in the palace's long, visually striking central courtyard, it hosted the bulk of the festival's DJ bookings, taking over from the live music-orientated South Stage at around 10 or 11 PM each night. Once RBMA shut down, you could either soldier on at the afterparty or stumble home to sleep, navigating your way down a dirt track lined with smiley locals selling bottled Coke and ready-made noodles. I did an hour at the afterparty on Friday, dancing merrily to hip-hop bangers by the likes of Drake and Kanye West alongside groups of Indians who knew the words better than I did.
The nights go long at Magnetic Fields (the palace is privately owned and there are no sound or license restrictions), so the days are lazy. Things got going around midday at Desert Oasis Disco, a sandy, open-air stage in the same compound as the festival's vast tent city, just outside the palace walls. On Sunday, a solid crowd gathered to see BFR Soundsystem, reportedly India's first mobile soundsystem, shake the stage's foundations with a string of killer dub and reggae '45s. The DJ, Delhi Sultanate, had it all: vintage silver microphone, spiritually uplifting patter, a slight Jamaican twang (apparently he'd spent time in Kingston). The whole thing could have easily felt inauthentic, but every detail had been so carefully considered and passionately executed that the opposite was true.
Generally speaking, passion was on bold show throughout the festival, from the zesty English girl hosting Saturday's well-attended programme of talks, to the Mumbai native and part-time producer running the virtual reality experience in the garden. The crowd, too, emanated enthusiasm. Things got particularly frisky at RBMA on Saturday night, starting with local favourite Oceantied's laptop set of mostly UK and European dubstep and drum & bass. Energy levels hit a peak during Pinch, as the Tectonic boss cut cleanly between VIPs of Dawn Penn's "No, No, No" and The Bug and Riko Dan's "Iceman." People were going nuts: a girl to my left head-banged with one foot perched on a bannister, and I was nearly blinded by a portly Indian man charging to the front, cigarette in hand, screaming "WHEEEEL IT!" The atmosphere was as fired-up as any dubstep rave I went to in Leeds or London in the '00s.
If any of the crowd were unfamiliar with Pinch, that didn't slow them down. People were open-minded and in for the long haul. By the time Call Super's superb sunrise set at the RA party drew to a close at around 7:15 AM, the car park—which housed a rusty tank boat and a fleet of jeeps—was still bustling. (Musical highlights include Bedrock's "For What You Dream Of" and an edit of Everything But The Girl's "Wrong.") Clubs shut early in India, so it's possible that this was some people's first time seeing in the dawn from the dance floor. Magical moments like these will cement a festival in any raver's heart.
Around 3000 people made the trip for this year's fourth edition, selling it out. The demographic was roughly 90% Indian, with most of them well-travelled, middle-class professionals from New Delhi and Mumbai. A sizeable chunk were music heads and industry players, though most people had come just to hang out, enjoy the palace and meet likeminded souls. These more casual participants are the future of India's underground electronic scene, a movement that, according to festival cofounder Munbir Chawla, "is about to pop." EDM has been a major concern in India for almost ten years now, made popular by big-budget festivals like Sunburn and NH7 Weekender. Earlier this year, Udyan Sagar, AKA Nucleya, became the first homegrown electronic artist to sell out a sports stadium. It might take a few more years until India's first underground star emerges, elevating the scene to the global stage, but Magnetic Fields is paving the way for that to happen. By all accounts, it's a question of when, not if. "It's the final frontier of electronic music," said Chawla.
On Sunday night, Floating Points, easily the weekend's biggest draw, closed RBMA with a three-hour set that traversed fruity disco, lean Detroit bombs and his own "Nuits Sonores." Behind him, 20-foot kaleidoscopic projections pinged off the palace walls. With 15 minutes to go, instead of ramping the energy up further, he took things down, gently ushering in Soul Capsule's "Lady Science (NYC Sunrise)." It's a spine-tingling record wherever you hear it, but in India, more than 4000 miles from home, it felt like it was hitting me for the first time. Everyone, from the front to the back, closed their eyes and let the timeless music wash over them.
RA's head of films, Patrick Nation, also travelled to Magnetic Fields, where he spoke to some of the attendees about their experience.
Photo credits /
Rebecca Conway - Lead, Gardens, Dorian Concept, Two guards, Sarathy Korwar, Magnetic Words
Polina Schapova - Rajasthani troupe, Mirrored tunnel
Zacharie Rabehi - BFR Soundsystem, Oceantied, Floating Points, BLOT!, Call Super
