SW4 Review // Go West. No, Wait, South.
East London. Mecca for buttoned up, bespectacled mods, lovers of all things cutting edge and underground (not the tube), their preferred choice of travel doesn’t have gears, can’t do hills and rarely strays far from the loving environs of London Fields (just two shootings this year!). South of the river is definitely a no-go zone, and thus a festival that is synonymous with a whole load of bankers and lawyers mashed up on a giant traffic island listening to yesterday’s tunes, might, you think, hold little appeal.
Indeed, this year’s lineup did little to dispel these traditional perceptions, delivering the slightly off-trend and ageing: Pete Tong, Timo Maas, John Digweed, Erick Morillo and Sasha. No Seth Troxler, Dixon or any other number of rising underground talents. But Noize is an amiable, open minded sort, thus with the covers of books and something about judging ringing in our ears, we left the Holy Land and travelled south.
An early warm up at the Firefly, close to Clapham Common, allowed us to gather fellow disciples, hope for good weather, and plan our post festival activities, with clear heads, for the 9pm finish, and the inevitable journey back into central London, where mildly trashed ravers mixed it with tarted-up totty on the northbound train.
The crowd was semi-brash in places, but up for it, and though non-camping festivals don’t seem to carry the same levels of fancy dress as Secret Garden Party or Bestival, we soon acquired some large green foam ‘thumbs’, from no where in particular, before they too vanished, heading on their merry way through the thronged masses.
After exploring the three smaller tents, we found our way to the main stage in time for Erick Morillo and his commercial, mainstream house, including his Coldplay / Guetta crowd favourite. While the heavens opened, reflective perhaps of any critical assessment, the crowds were largely ebullient. In the face of gusting cross winds and sporadic belts of rain, salvation arrived in the form of a large black scarf, thrown from the endless crowd, which we huddled underneath.
Next up was Sasha, hitting the pace almost immediately, catching a rhythm with a track that that samples Donna Summer’s I Feel Love. Then, in full stride, highly animated, he dropped Cirez D’s On, Off before bringing the set home with a series of big festival progressive house tracks.
We’ve heard stories that headline DJ’s supply lists of tunes not to be played by earlier acts. Perhaps not too much of an issue when a trance DJ follows a prog one, but nevertheless Armin van Buuren came on and dropped the Cirez D monster again. But, despite the groundhog day feeling, trance is one of those guilty pleasures and we squelched along happily until the end of the festival, heads ringing from the bevy of mainstream acts and with our shoes battered and broken.
It’s hard to be critical of SW4: while the music may not be as cutting edge as some warehouse party back in the East or Villalobos for breakfast at Fabric on a Sunday, but if you want to cut loose in the late summer sun (and rain), you can’t really fault it. It’s good times guaranteed.
Words and Photos by Simon Dean
Noize focuses on oversize, comedy hands, not the sea of blondes…
Whatever you do, don’t look up…
Seven go mad in Clapham
Sasha parties like its 1997
