The Big Feastival 2011 review

'It's hard to fault Jamie Oliver's mission to mix food and music'

As a chef, Jamie Oliver is an Essex lad that knows a little something about pies; he’s got enough of his fingers in them. And now he’s stuck his thumb into another. London’s The Big Feastival 2011 is his first forage into the festival world, an attempt to whisk rock n roll with gourmet grub.

They compliment one another deliciously, especially in Clapham where yummy mummies and off duty office workers slurp champagne and cocktails, loosening their ties across a balmy weekend.

On the Friday it’s the food that wins. More squeeze into the live cooking demos than manage to see Jazzie B (5/10), so it’s little wonder he looks uninterested in the afternoon.

Ashley Beedle (6/10) too is little more than background noise at the bandstand and he’s not enough to pull people off the grass. Meals from the likes of the Michelin-starred Locanda Locatelli and Oliver’s own Fifteen do manage to entice many though.

Brixton boy Roots Manuva (7/10) is honoured with the first proper crowd of the weekend with the disco-funk of ‘Watch Me Dance’ finally helping people get a sweat on. It’s ‘Witness (1 Hope)’, a tune Rodney Smith jokes is now “a swear word”, that continues to define his shows.

It’s a rare Soul II Soul (8/10) live show that’s the richest Friday treat. From the rousing strings of ‘Zion’ to Caron Wheeler belting out a funky ‘Keep On Movin’’ and even laidback ‘Jazzie’s Groove’, it is one reunion that isn’t past its sell by date.

Sunday is the busiest day of the three-course festival and should be the sweet finale to the weekend. Athlete (6/10) however are the cheeseboard equivalent of a mild cheddar, not quite enough to satisfy the palate. Opener ‘El Salvador’ has lost its radio-pop charm since 2003, it’s hard to believe four albums in the band have stuck so close to the formula, however inconsistent the results. Even with an acoustic outro to ‘Wires’ and shouts for sing-a-longs the four piece can’t steal the thunder from the food.

Guillemots (7/10) aren’t prepared to sit still for long and take their afternoon slot as a chance to run out their latest album ‘Walk The River’ almost in full as older hits, sadly, fall to the wayside. Fyfe Dangerfield puts his warm smile ahead of the brooding, folk-style of their latest work which seems ill placed against the sunny Clapham afternoon and young family festival.

Far from the main stage, somewhere between the half hour queues for popcorn shrimps and the sorbet ice cream stall is a humble bandstand, playing host to a less-than-humble South American serving of dance and soul, The Cuban Brothers (9/10). The ideal antidote to the middle class malaise and middle of the rocky road acts populating the main stage. It’s the classic hits, Cuban moustaches and topless pole dancing that sets this gang apart from your everyday dance collectives.

The marmite man of the cuisine world, Jamie Oliver is on hand to close the weekend affair and looks like a slippery fish out of water as he first addresses the crowd with an: “easy now”. He’s about as easy to swallow as the final headliner Athlete but is the best man to remind everyone of why this festival is such important undertaking and rightfully deserves a place in the calendar next year: “The whole point of this weekend was good food, good times and an alternative way of doing festivals.” With 100 percent of the profits going to the Jamie Oliver Foundation and the Prince’s Trust it’s hard to fault his mission and looking at the full bellies and wide grins he’s achieved a new format for festivals. If music and good food be the sauce of love, play on.

Comments

Related Artists

Related Events