Rhik Samadder 

Standon Calling festival – review

A showcase for new talent, this year's event featured promising sets from Bastille, Goldheart Assembly and Silvermoths, writes Rhik Samadder
  
  


"There's no police here, they're all in London … don't be shy!" exhorts singer IROK from the Twisted Licks stage of Standon Calling. It is a call taken up warily by the attenuated flock before him, illustrating the nature of small festivals that have grown in number around the UK, which gain in intimacy but lack the critical mass required for any transcendent spectacle. Battles are well received, but Saturday headliners Lamb offer more to admire than enthuse over.

The real fun lies in spotting bands on the brink of mainstream success, as with previous guests Florence and the Machine or Mumford & Sons, and there's enough to catch the ear here. Bastille showcase cascades of glittering synth-pop, Dan Smith's soaring vocals at once fragile and bold, while Goldheart Assembly already look consummate, effectively dirtying up the purity of their harmonies with slamming guitars and raggedly rousing choruses. Silvermoths show promise, their angelic frontwoman given extra dimension by her multi-disciplinary band, including a classical Indian raga from cellist Rylan Holey.

Slam poets familiar to festival literary tents get a chance to air musical projects on the main stage, although Saul Williams fails to find a musical outfit as ambitious or audacious as his mesmerising solo presence. Kate Tempest, a cyclone of passion, fares better. Having unveiled an overwrought play, Wasted, at Latitude festival in July, she finds her talents better served by the loose funk of her band the Sound of Rum, which pushes her vocals to the fore.

Tempest is also one of the guest MCs joining the Africa Express Soundsystem, Sunday night's headliners, who provide a comic soundclash to John Grant's wry and sensitive ballads, performed in a neighbouring tent at hilariously insufficient distance: one pindrop pause in a weeping piano interlude is answered by the exultant interjection "Africa!" from the main stage. Still, with the percussive joy and sheer exuberance of their standout set, the Africa Express contingent succeed in finally making a congregation out of the festival faithful.

 

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