Festival Review: Slam Dunk South - September 2021
Slam Dunk 2021 was a day many thought would never actually happen. Cancellations, rescheduling, acts popping in and out of the roster near constantly, even up until just the week before; it was chopping and changing so much that you could never know what to expect. Last-minute problems with ticket deliveries were met with a bemused acceptance, as if to say ‘why not?’ The organisers even rather candidly admitted that the festival was a far cry from the original lineup that people may have bought tickets for, but pleaded for people to hang onto their tickets, admitting that, if ‘21 didn’t go ahead, it could spell the end of the iconic festival.
And yet, against all odds, Slam Dunk 2021 was a storming success. On the 4th and 5th September, the prestigious pop punk paradise emerged once more to rallying cheers and a victorious sense of relief. In both Leeds and Hatfield, thousands took to the hallowed fields to let loose and live.
On the 5th of September, we rocked up to the festival, fully prepared for the overcast and grey day that forecasters had promised us. Admittedly, we should’ve known better — this is England after all, where the weather is as unpredictable as the date of the next lockdown. So, bedecked in our jeans and coats on the sun-kissed 25C day, we began our holy pilgrimage: and what better a way could there be than with seeing vocalist Kaya Tarsus through his final show with Blood Youth?
Coming on stage a little late, plagued by those dreaded technical difficulties, Blood Youth could be forgiven a little trepidation. It was this iteration’s final set, after all, opening Slam Dunk for hundreds of people; not to mention, for at least some of the crowd, acting as the first re-introduction to live music for over 18 months. The fact that they ripped straight into recent single Iron Lung, and that a huge pit had opened in the crowd before Kaya’s vocals had even begun to roar through the tent, simply speaks volumes of the Yorkshire band’s sheer furious confidence. Yet the show seemed bittersweet. Moments of poignancy — Kaya dedicating Spineless to his best friends, after pledging allegiance and support to the band forever — belied the acerbic anger of Playing the Victim or the violence of Nerve, and gave the half an hour the group had on stage a faint air of desperation, as if trying to cling onto these last few songs. The final scream of “Just to feel you” in closer Cells, then, was as heart wrenching as it was throat ripping; and, as the band crowded together to share these final moments together on stage before venturing off into the day, chants of Blood Youth were screamed one and all.
Yet the end of an era here only served to signal the start of a day — there was plenty more to come. For us, this took the glorious form of The Hara on the Key Club stage.
The Hara are... an interesting sight. Frontman Josh Taylor, for instance, with his dyed blue hair, vaudeville-esque eyeshadow, and what I can only describe as a leather apron, is as unique as he is brilliant — staggering around the stage one second, climbing up the side of the stage the next. His energy was frantic as he jumped, rolled and traipsed from song to anthemic song. Even being chased around by a wasp mid set couldn’t dampen his spirits; and, whether it was the recently released Fool & The Thief or the comparatively old Tramp Brain, the crowd were right there with him.
Yet it was closer Animals which cemented them in the crowd’s heart. After stripping off down to his boxers, Taylor decided the crowd wasn’t being rowdy enough for him. Easy to solve — just climb into the pseudo- mosh pit and start it up yourself. Which, making the security guards really work for their pay, he proceeded to do. A commanding performance and some truly insane stage presence — what more could anyone hope for?
Conveniently located directly next to The Hara’s set — insofar as the crowd could even make out lead singer Sydney Dolezal almost unconsciously dance throughout much of The Hara’s set — were Doll Skin, from Phoenix Arizona, who were our next band of the day. Bedecked almost solely in white, the quintet on stage were vibrant and simply brimming with life. As Sydney tore into Love is Dead and We Killed Her, the joy emanating from the stage was palpable and genuinely a delight to be a part of. Almost giggling between songs, their welcome to the crowd — “it’s lovely to meet you all! Or see you again if you’ve seen us before!” — was a stark contrast to the almost vengeful lyrics; as they led the crowd through their paces with recent single Eat Shit, the sheer delight from the band reflected a group enjoying the set even more than the crowd. This only grew as they welcomed on the ‘surprise’ guest, with NOAHFINNCE taking the stage for their shared cover of Yungblud’s ‘parents’. Even the more ‘real’ moments — with Sydney detailing their problems with dependence, before triumphantly revealing their being sober for two years — acted as a precursor to more frenzied fun, tearing through Outta My Mind as they cartwheeled across the stage. The closer of Puncha Nazi, meanwhile, from the aptly titled Manic Pixie Dream Girl, let the crowd release their anger towards whichever racists that came to mind — unfortunately still as relevant today as it would have been fifty years ago — and, as the band reached a crescendo, left the crowd on a deserved high.
A short trip to the main stage, now, as we joined the legions of fans desperately awaiting Creeper. Emerging to chants of ‘Love Is Dead’, frontman Will Gould was an enigmatic figure — the mosh pit that he created by separating the tides of adoring people gave the performance an almost prophetic undertone that simply made it all the more enchanting. With a mixture of tracks both new and old, the larger-than-life band conducted the band like their own personal marionettes — a pit here, a crowd surf there; towers arising from the maelstrom as fans climbed on top of each other for a better vantage point. And, with Waterparks pulling out on the day due to the illness-that-shall-not-be-named, they even had time to do an encore of sorts; “We didn’t get to do this yesterday but we have a little more time today”, Gould cried to his legions, before the band broke into Annabelle. With the sun beating down on the screaming crowd, those final cries of “Let’s Live Like Sinners” seemed perfectly on point for the dazzlingly theatrical group.
Unfortunately, the sun’s uncharacteristic lashing forced us to stop and get a drink, so we were a little late to this year’s secret set — the anthemic and iconic McFly! Hidden away on the far side of the Key Club stages, the room available was paltry for a band that everyone knows and loves, but that’s the magic of the secret set. As hundreds of people sang along to 2006’s Obviously, or the classic Star Girl, the sheer joy of being back in the fields really hit everyone; what better feel good band is there? And, after praising the earlier set of Wargasm — as much for their name as their actual set — the band played All About You. For a band going strong for nearly 20 years, returning to such a thunderous welcome after 18 months of lockdown, it really was all about the ‘you’ of the crowd.
With 2019’s secret set being Busted, you’ve got to wonder what 2022 might have in store... perhaps a star-studded reunion? Only time will tell!
But first, Funeral For A Friend.
With a crowd more enthusiastic and just generally bigger than even most headliners would get, Funeral For A Friend’s set was a sight to behold. From a distance, sadly, because of just how stupidly busy it was. With multiple rows of fans emanating from the massive Jagermeister tent, all trying to get a glimpse of the Welsh legends, it seemed like the whole festival had turned up just for them. And who can blame them? There’s a reason that the band have remained consistently relevant and beloved for twenty years, and it’s because they’re just so damn good.
With no song less than ten years old, the band ensured that their crowd — and make no mistake, the sheer volume of palpable adoration rolling from the thousands packed in the tent ensured that it was *their* crowd — would know every word. “These songs a long time ago stopped being our songs and became songs for the people who gave a shit about our band”, declared frontman Matt Davies, before dedicating Juneau to everyone who had given their time to making the weekend possible. “We’re honoured”. I think I speak for everyone there when I say the feeling’s mutual.
Going from the impromptu arena-sized crowd of Funeral For A Friend to the intimacy of Normandie on the Key Club Stage was a jump, but a welcome one. The Swedish Quartet, as ever, were stunning to watch. Philip Strand’s vocal prowess alone makes the band a powerhouse; the chemistry of the band and strength of the songs is just icing. “We took the f*cking PCR tests, we’re negative, but this sh*t is positive”, he shouts to the assembled masses, before launching into recent single Jericho. In fact, much of the setlist was taken from the recent album Dark and Beautiful Secrets; for the most part, Slam Dunk constituted the tracks’ first live outings. Judging from the crowd’s reactions, they came none too soon.
“Slam Dunk, you’re making me religious”, Philip confesses, before launching into White Flag — for penance, the band are due to return in October for a full tour, and I for one can’t wait.
Having already unleashed their fury at Download back in June and Bloodstock more recently — and even playing at Resurrection Fest in Spain just a few weeks ago — While She Sleeps, headlining the heavy tent, were probably the most prepared band of the weekend. They’d already expunged their nerves, honed their setlist, sharpened their screams... and it showed. With a setlist comprising of staples old and new, as well as some surprises sprinkled in for good measure — such as welcoming Andrew from Comeback Kid on stage for Brainwashed, or having Alex from Malevolence fill in for Oli on the brilliantly brutal Silence Speaks — the set was finely tuned and fantastic from start to finish. The noticeable absence of any pre-Brainwashed tracks in their primarily new-oriented setlist, then, rather than heralding disappointment, simply reflected a band going from strength to strength.
From the get-go, frontman Loz, backlit by blasts of red and white, stood at the front of the stage as a sweaty silhouette for the band to centre around. With their trademark flags adorning the sides of the stage, and piercing lights cutting through the smoke, the set was an escape from lockdown brought to life; and, from the opening notes of the relatively recently released SLEEPS SOCIETY to the final beats of SYSTEMATIC, the band proved they had earned their slot.
Finally, the time had come for the inimitable and insanely talented Don Broco to take centre stage. Despite arriving a little late — escaping the pit of a headlining While She Sleeps is no easy matter — it was easy to see just why the Bedford lads had been given the headline spot. They swaggered around the stage like they owned it; which, simply, they did. The group were preened and primed for the night of their lives and struck a slick and striking sight on the pyrotechnic-filled main stage.
And yet, with this entirely earned sense of confidence came a serene sense of humility. Bar Bedford, Hatfield is as close to a hometown show as they can get; getting to triumphantly headline Slam Dunk right out of the gate seemed to leave the band almost incredulous at their own success. But while the band seemed blown away, the crowd were a hell of a lot more understanding — songs such as Technology or the recently released Manchester Super Reds No1 Fan were ready-made for headline slots or arena tours. Hell, the pyrotechnics meant that sparks were literally flying for Gumshield. Not to mention the Loz-Taylor-featuring Action, complete with hair-raising screams, tailor made for the pits, or the hazy, cinematic, Deftones-esque One True Prince.
The setlist simply served to show the ever-changing face of the band; each album, each era is dramatically different, and yet each flows into the next perfectly, leaving everyone in the crowd swooning with adoration.
Plus cowbell. It’s physically impossible not to love a song with cowbell; and Rob and co have plenty of those.
The encore seemed almost a little bittersweet, as the band reminisced of Slam Dunks past. Most notably, 2018 and the infamous Pretty masks. “It was surreal looking into a crowd of myself”, Rob laughs; “I didn’t think you could beat it but you did”. Then, after the cowboy-shooting insanity of Everybody, and the T-Shirt helicopters of T-Shirt Song, that was that. Another year done and dusted.
But what a year it was. So many brilliant bands, old and new; hidden gems galore. Even if the line-up didn’t quite end up like many were expecting, Slam Dunk 2021 was an insane experience that *almost* makes up for everything that had prevented Slam Dunk 2020, and I just hope we could express at least some of that over our reviews.
So here’s to Slam Dunk 2022!
Words by James O’Sullivan
Photography by Ant Adams