Cranes, industrial hardware, techno and tarmac. Melt turns 15.
None of us know what to expect as we meander with the Friday crowds towards the distant machinery, necking illegal booze and contemplating the weird handbags our fellow party people have constructed out of gaffer tape and juice cartons (and presumably vodka). They cunningly get round the ‘no booze’ security request by turning their drinks into accessories. If only we had been so inventive.
Melt is a strange beast. Part underground rave, part mainstream hectic arena festival, it attracts a multi-faceted conglomerate of dedicated techno heads and indie kids, die-hard ravers and straight-laced musos to its Ferropolis site near Berlin. People here are very serious about their music. After 15 years in the game, to say they have got things running smoothly would be an understatement. The production is clinical in its precision. Everything starts bang on time and sounds crisper than a packet of kettle chips.
Sprinting in to catch the last of Disclosure enjoying the fruits of their labour with Jessie Ware performing their remix of ‘Running’, and emotions could not be running higher. The air is crackling with the potential you feel on Fridays as festivals kick off. Wallets are stuffed with euros, everyone is peering cockily over their sunglasses, checking each other out and necking overpriced beer. We have arrived.
The Gemini stage is a huge undercover area, and home to the eclectic sounds of future garage, smatterings of dubstep and future bass, and a fair bit of tear out stuff. I am surprised by the popularity of acts such as Knife Party, Flux Pavilion, Benga and even Nero over here, being under the illusion that it was mainly house and techno floating people’s boats. Disclosure have definitely landed and the tent is heaving as the last of their garage-inflected house raises hands high.
Jessie Ware’s solo set next is filled with the refreshing sight of tough-looking boys singing every tender word. They are mostly from London it seems: but the South London super-cool singer – despite a softer side to her music – is evidently ticking the boxes of the males in the crowd.
Over at the main stage, The Rapture are smashing out their high-octane, DFA-style hits to a euphoric and very physical crowd. Huge circles keep opening up, tension building until we can be held back no more and explode into the centre of the mosh, riotous and roaring. There are a couple of English knights wearing chain mail and waving swords. The gang of German guys in black hooded catsuits – which conceal their entire heads rendering them blind – are pogoing wildly, the more enthusiastic fans dash forwards to join the swirling, eddying crowd. Everyone is grinning.
The night reaches a glorious crescendo with Caribou on the main stage. I’m surprised by how heavy their set is, and as they close with Odessa and Sun, nearly everyone has their eyes closed and hands aloft, basking in the beautiful live electronica. The main stage is most definitely reserved for the epic, night time dance acts with big light shows and huge sounds: Nero, Modeselektor and Justice also completely smash it to bits.
Melt is a night-time festival, opening in the late afternoon and kicking you out come 8am. This means the difficult daytime hours sprawl, alternating with rain and sunlight, exploring and tent-time. Everyone in the campsite is better organised than us – which is not diffiuclt to be fair – we have flown over from London via Lidl. Their organisation is impressive. Decks, RVs, BBQs, pavilions. The smell of cooking meat and endless bumping Bar25 soundtracks populate our days.
Saturday afternoon boasts the winning combination of sunshine and the incredible Italian-based duo Tale Of Us dishing their deep house to a lakeside crowd. This feels like the kind of music Melt is designed for. Deep house and techno, in the shadow of the biggest crane I have ever seen, curated by Resident Advisor: the crowd are bumping as one. The knowing smiles bounce round the thousands of faces all screwed up in satisfaction. It’s only 4pm and already everyone is absolutely having it. Yes Melt! Yes Resident Advisor! You cannot deny the impeccable programming. Dixon, Richie Hawtin, Tale Of Us, Laurent Garnier. I am in my element. 
Melt have perfected the programming and the delivery, but what is missing is the fluffy magic you find at non-arena festivals when wandering around the small tents at stupid o’clock. The huge stages with unsurpassable acts are the reason people are here, the reason they are completely losing their shit come rain or shine, but that’s not the place you mingle and meet the randoms, the new friends, swap outfits and jokes, relax under trees, shoot the shit beside fires and on hay bales. There is also a distressing lack of decent food (I’m looking at you Pasta Mario), but let’s not dwell on that.
A treat is in store on the Gemini Stage come Sunday, replacing French electro king SebastiAn is Gaslamp Killer and Riton going heavy on the trap and electro, dropping appropriate Waka Flocka Flame samples as the crowd are indeed going hard in the paint. Gaslamp is going mental, everyone is going mental, it’s undoubtedly one of the highlights of the weekend.
It’s a stroke of genius to end the festival with the big guns: Richie Hawtin proving why he is still king on the Big Wheel stage with his classic, banging techno, Yeasayer gathering the singalong crowds in the Intro-Zelt, but the crown of the weekend for me must go to Justice. They play an incredible mix of their best tunes, dropping in D.A.N.C.E, and D.V.N.O, weaving the familiar hooks into the epic Phantom Part II and teasing us with snippets until they finally drop We Are Your Friends and the crowd go utterly berserk. The hook that keeps weaving in and out for me sums up the entire Melt experience - the jostling, the pushing, the shoving, the euphoria, the frustration, the jumping and the absolutely endless grooving: “I’m losing my patience, I just came here to bounce”.
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Images by Kathleen Prior and Stephan Flad.
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