Summer Sundae, Leicester De Montfort Hall

August 13 – 15, 2010

As I walk through the transformed grounds of De Montfort Hall and the surrounding grasslands of Victoria Park I’m reminded of the final day of Leeds festival 2009, and of the final day of every Leeds Festival I have attended previously. I recall waking from a fitful sleep to the crump of exploding aerosols, face warmed by the distant blasts and the horizon shimmering with clouds of escaping gas. As I groggily, slightly hurriedly, pack up my tent, I look over what remains of the campsite that had become vividly familiar over the past four days. Many others are also packing up, but I’m surprised at how many have abandoned their spent campsites. I’m also surprised how many of those abandoned sites are on fire. My throat and eyes become raw from the green plastic of burning tent.

The final hours of Summer Sundae are an unexpected relief from the primal, ritualistic no-man’s land of Bramham Park. After my first experience of Leeds Festival’s latent threat of violence and desire for catharsis that so traditionally manifests itself by attendees setting fire to anything that can be grasped, I had become accustomed to it, expecting it each year and even getting caught up in the hysteria myself, forgetting that the outside world even existed for a brief weekend. As the surreal, unaccompanied howl of a thousand singing ‘Sex On Fire’ in the Summer Sundae Silent Disco in the Last.fm sponsored ‘Rising Tent’ adjacent to the ‘loud’ campsite (a ‘quiet’ campsite also exists for families and those who want a decent night’s sleep: I declined) turns to a chorus of boos at the one AM curfew, I half-expect the worst. But there’s no rioting; just a gaggle of happy, intoxicated people, singing and stumbling back to their tents, to bed.

I shouldn’t have been too amazed by that; it’s the sort of laid-back, fun-loving attitude that Summer Sundae is synonymous with. Set in the picturesque De Montfort Hall that had a month earlier hosted my graduation ceremony, the festival has all the festival trappings you would expect: typically priced food stands which, after lukewarm campsite beans are worth every penny; a fairground bazaar; pear cider – but on a smaller, more relaxed scale. Security is just strict enough to make you feel safe, but never imposing. Nothing is confiscated (Umbrellas, Leeds Festival? Really?) unless you’re underage.

Four main stages are dotted across the site, along with various smaller stages. The largest of these being the aptly titled Main Stage, set in the courtyard of the hall itself. It was here that, through a murky Saturday morning, Gaggle congregated to unleash their doomsaying act. Clad in eyewatering costume, at first their choral sloganeering jars a little with the morning crowd, but song by song the spectacle attracts more curious onlookers and, by the end of their set a sizeable crowd is chanting along to ‘I Like Cigarettes’. Later that evening, The Go! Team return after what seems like an age and also pull in a huge crowd, their mix of air-raid guitars, sassy raps and schoolyard chants sounds better than ever in a live setting. It’s great to have them back.

Nearby is the Musician Stage, showcasing many Leicestershire acts such as the By The River collective. Consisting of various alumnus of Leicester’s vibrant reggae-rock scene, their music is summery, fun and pulls in a huge, sweaty crowd of hipsters, families and general good-timers alike into the tiny canvas tent.

Inside De Montfort hall is the Indoor Stage, which on Sunday was curated by Drowned In Sound. A jetlagged but charismatic Catherine AD lulls a contented, hungover few early on Sunday with her sweet, gentle piano playing. More lively are Summer Camp, whose naive, old-time vocals blend perfectly with surf guitars and burbling, bass heavy electronics. The Besnard Lakes, in comparison both to Summer Camp and the majority of the other acts throughout the weekender, are headcrushingly heavy, but gifted with a terrific melodic sense and mastery of their instruments, particularly on highlights of their second album ‘The Besnard Lakes Are The Roaring Night’ such as the stomping call-and-response of ‘Like The Ocean, Like The Innocent Pts 1 and 2′ and the sparkling ‘Albatross’. Better still are Canadian transplants Caribou on Saturday, whose smoky, jazz-influenced new effort ‘Swim’ is played in full. The skittering, gentle beats of the record are replaced by a staggeringly weighty live drummer, and the band drag out their songs into dynamic, hypnotic whirlwinds that leave the crowd stunned as they duck away following an apocalyptic ‘Sun’, stumbling outside into the long-overdue sun having witnessed something like the best performance of the weekend, perhaps their lives.

Summer Sundae is for this seasoned festival-goer; not just a side-dish of a festival to accompany a main course of one of the larger, more famous British weekenders, but a truly great gathering in its own right. The intimate, friendly atmosphere is a reminder of what a festival should really be about, and it is a credit not only to the organisers but also to the city of Leicester itself. Highly recommended.

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