Lovebox 2009

Lovebox 2009

20 July, 2009
by: Rose

First time rounders and 80s revivalists alike picked their cuticles to the quick in nervous anticipation of the Lovebox weekender, which welcomed Gang of Four, Duran Duran and Gary Numan, three giants from the late 70s/80s new wave, post punk and electronic explosion. My music collection befriended the era about five years ago, and I was terribly excited.

It’s a boozy Saturday evening in Victoria Park, and Gang of Four are due on at 8pm. I approach the Gaymer’s stage and stake out a spot in a bafflingly small crowd, feeling frustrated at the lack of atmosphere and the overcast sky. The familiar guitar stabs of their opener ‘Return the Gift’ are offset by the strangeness of the middle aged men on stage. Of course I’d been foolish to expect anything but grey hair, excessive sweating and sagging skin, (these men had been virile young creatures in the late seventies after all) but nevertheless, a small girlish flame inside me is pinched out by their licked fingers. Front man Jon King wears a large Dad-shirt unbuttoned half way; and his hip-jerking reveals rather than belies his age.

But the essential elements of angular guitar funk and socio-political lyrics remain, and a double serving of ‘Damaged Goods’ and ‘Anthrax’ has me smiling (although the bass pops aren’t nearly as clean as they are on record, and King’s lungs have lost their capacity to round off certain lines). I realise I’m mourning the image of Gang of Four I conjured when I first heard 'I Love a Man in a Uniform’, the image of young, funk-sensitive, brash but disillusioned Leeds boys.

Before the end of the set, my friends lead me away by the hand, eager to get a good spot for Duran Duran, who are due on at nine. Seeing as they’re not Gang of Four fans, and haven’t unsheathed the kernel of brilliance from the gig’s flabby shell, I don’t protest.

As we approach the main stage, it’s clear that this performance will be quite different. The scale of the production, the size of the crowd, and the fading light have created the atmosphere Gang of Four was lacking. After much fanfare the band appear and belt out the seemingly ironic opener 'Wild Boys’. Le Bon’s voice hasn’t deteriorated, and aurally at least, they’re as great as they ever were. But his grotesque appearance, as well as the lyrics 'Wild boys fallen far from glory... wild boys never lose it...wild boys always shine’, makes this performance look like a parody of their 80s prime.  There are about seven songs that everyone wants to hear, which are executed to perfection, and John Taylor’s teasing out of the 'Rio’ bass line is seriously sexy.

But it must be fairly demoralising as a revived group, to see the entire crowd’s indifference to less known material, and they fill the lulls in enthusiasm with some shameless borrowing, sampling Princes’ 'Sign of the Times’, and covering Chic’s 'Le Freak’ and Grandmaster Flash's 'White Lines'.

The James Bond medley at the end is entertaining, and 'A View To a Kill' proves itself to be timelessly cool. But Le Bon's emerging from a dry-ice cloud in a full white suit produces cheers and groans in equal measure from the crowd, as the performance errs on the pantomime side of entertainment, complete with cameo appearance from producer Mark Ronson on guitar.

Whilst I'm glad I had the chance to see these musicians on stage, the experience of listening to their records is now coloured by the up-to-date imagery of their performances, which is wholly incongruous with the youthful daring energy coursing through the music. Gary Numan, Gang of Four and Duran Duran had all created the first line of their obituaries by the mid eighties, and I think they're best crystallised there.

Rose Cartwright

Click here to return to the main Lovebox Festival page
Click here to read our review of Glastonbury 2009
Click here to see all London festivals
Click here to see all UK festivals

Rose