Field Maneuvers 2017

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  • "Have you got any weapons with you? Any AK-47s? Nuclear missiles?" asked the security guard with a wink. "What about bad vibes? We don't want any of those in here." I grinned and entered the site. The friendly security seemed a good omen for the festival, and three days later I had to admit he'd done a good job—at Field Maneuvers 2017, with its superb lineup and strong community feeling, there wasn't a bad vibe in sight. In the saturated UK festival market, you have to do something different to stand out. Many go bigger, more polished, more commercial, but in its five years Field Maneuvers has remained defiantly small and anti-corporate, channelling the spirit of '90s free parties. Of the many people I met across the weekend, I seemed to be one of the few who was there for the first time. It's not just the punters who keep coming back, either—Auntie Flo has played every edition, while Ben Sims and Ryan Elliott returned for a fourth consecutive year. It's easy to see why. The moment you arrive, you feel welcomed into a family. Family is not a one-time thing. The sense of community is enhanced by the setup, which shows a rare understanding of what makes a great party. Field Maneuvers pares the festival experience back to its fundamentals—there are just a handful of spots for food and drink, minimal décor and three music tents. All resources are focused on the essentials—the lineup, the soundsystems and the positive energy. Its small size is another blessing. It was impossible to lose your mates, while any stage or a pint was never more than a thirty-second walk away. The intimacy meant you'd inevitably run into the same people again and again, and it was almost impossible not to emerge blinking on Monday with a bunch of new friends.
    The biggest DJs played the main stage. This wasn't always ideal, as this tent was the least atmospheric of the three—often too bright and uncomfortably cramped, it could be hard to lose yourself in the music. But the best selectors made me forget these snags. Friday's highlight was Soichi Terada, his incandescent melodies warming the hearts of the 3 AM crowd. The Japanese artist also proved himself a fantastic performer: singing (sometimes via an origami puppet), performing dance routines and doing air guitar solos through hits like "Saturday Love Sunday," "Tokyo XXX" and his cosy remix of Cheryl Lynn's "Got To Be Real." Andy Blake and Midland both impressed on Saturday, but, for me, it was on Sunday that the main stage really came into its own. The crowd had thinned and there was a warm, rave-weary atmosphere among the remaining dancers. Respected disco selector Nick The Record spun a great selection that included an edit of Marcos Valle's "Estrelar." Later, Spencer Parker's high-octane performance was the highlight of the day, if not the entire weekend: a storming selection of house, disco and techno mixed with flair. He coaxed the crowd to an ecstatic frenzy with crossfader and EQ tricks over tunes like Floorplan's "Baby, Baby" and Loleatta Holloway's "Love Sensation."
    Jane Fitz and Jade Seatle curated the Field Moves tent again this year, and while Fitz was sadly absent due to illness, the DJs they'd lined up supplied excellent sets of deeper house, techno and electro. I barely recognised a single track played all weekend, but the likes of Alison Marks, Alex Downey and Aidy West wove intricate states of club hypnosis. It was in Sputnik, the smallest and most intense of the three stages, that I spent many of my favourite moments. Filled with smoke and lasers, the geodesic had an atmosphere so intoxicating that it was a shock every time I ventured back out into the field. Volvox ignited the place on Friday with a set of dramatic acid techno. After seeing her three times this year, she's fast becoming one of my favourite DJs. Another highlight was Saturday night's 2-step onslaught of Brackles and Noodles (of Groove Chronicles fame), who conducted a whirlwind tour of UK garage old and new.
    At around 4 AM on Sunday morning, I was leaving the main stage when a man's face loomed out of the darkness. "You still got some dance in you?" I nodded. "Afterparty in Sputnik. Now." I didn't need to be told twice. Though the music had officially ended for the night, I found myself back in the dome, throwing expansive shapes to UK DJ Miro SundayMusiq. Through the fog I could make out various characters: a shirtless guy enthralled by his own hands, a middle-aged man in a double-breasted suit and a pair of glittery girls sitting in front of the decks sharing a cigarette. The moment captured something about Field Maneuvers. Everyone was welcome. This isn't a festival for people who share specific tastes, but for people who understand that clubbing is simply about community and music. Photo credits / Jake Davis Mike Massaro
RA