Lovebox 2006

United Kingdom | by Nick Bruce | 23 July 2006

A mini Glasto in the heart of London, the two-day Lovebox love-in returns for its second year north of the river. Cowboy hat wearing trendies, iPod shuffling cityites and Aussies converge. Feed them Jamiroquai...

Victoria Park was originally conceived as a healthy open space for the unhealthy residents of 19th Century East London. This weeekend its 290 acres, four bandstands and three ponds are joined by one massive main stage, nine tents and thousands of 21st Century music lovers. It’s the second day of Lovebox and after Saturday’s dance fest led by Groove Armada, revelers are either bouncing off each other in anticipation or sat under a shady tree quietly monging out having watched the sun set whilst dancing to 'Superstylin'. Either way the weather is holding, East London is jumping and there are enough beautiful people here to make even the Krays crack a smile. Roll on day two.

Funked up cover versions may not sound like the typical fare for a main stage act, but Mark Ronson successfully re-invents pop dross like Britney Spears’ 'Toxic' and Kim Wilde’s 'Keep Me Hanging on', his band fashioning them into irresistible summer funk that gets everyone, including the poor sods stuck in the hour-long queue for the cash machine, dancing. Coldplay, Kasabian and Radiohead are treated well by Ronson’s restyling, 'Just' being the highlight of the set. Never has a Radiohead tune sounded so uplifting but would Thom Yorke approve? The band backing Ronson are awesome. All, so far, is well.

Then Lily Allen is invited on stage.

Strutting like she owns Hackney, let alone the stage, decked out in a red dress, Allen looks as one should when they have a number one single under their belt, regardless of how awful the song might be. That she completely butchers Kaiser Chiefs’ 'Oh My God' is unforgivable. The girl cannot sing. She drops her tees and speaks the lyrics like she is chewing gum, adopting the middle-class street-speak perfected no doubt by a lifetime of watching her father perform on screen. The band remain as tight as ever: the music is still funky as hell. If it hadn’t been for this intrusion, Mark Ronson’s set would have been nigh on perfect.

A wander around Lovebox is like visiting a section of Glastonbury’s Green Fields, just a bit glitzier. For a small site there is a lot going on: picnic tables are dotted around with families eating from a plethora of food stalls, random badminton games are being played by men in multicolored dungarees and somewhere a nine foot blue and orange alien is patting people on the head. Are we really in London?

The Feeling, having been dancing to Groove Armada the night before, are hung-over. This does not show at all as their performance, bearing in mind these boys are soft-pop, bears all the trademarks of an accomplished rock group. Lead singer Dan Gillespie is a whirling dervish on stage betraying the cuddly feel of songs 'Fill My Little World' and the frankly gorgeous 'Sewn'. The crowd is The Feeling’s demographic of city workers aged 25-35 and they clearly love their safe, Sunday melodies. There's lots of banter between band and crowd, the sort of refreshing chit-chat characteristic of an act newly-made and minus arrogance. A pause due to technical difficulties prompts keyboard player Ciaran Jeremiah to perform an arrangement of the E.T. theme tune, a fun add-on that precedes new single 'Never Be Lonely'. The Feeling are chirpy, chatty, harmless fun and a welcome addition to the day’s proceedings.

A stroll away from the main crowd and the Caukus stage beckons with its trippy may poles adorned with multicolored ribbons and elaborate tree decorations. From out of the black stage come the rabid sounds of Terry Edwards and the Scapegoats: Terry has stuck a microphone into his sax producing other-worldly sounds. The assembled crowd sit under shady trees and stare wide-eyed as Terry takes them away from the mainstream and plunges them into the blue lagoon that is experimental jazz. The Feeling juxtaposed with schizophrenic pentatonic scales? Love it.

The Rumble Teaser tent: big, colourful and smelling like a Moroccan hash den, plays host to Larrikin Love bouncing around the stage like puppets on nitrous oxide. Lead singer Edward wears a narcotic smile throughout the set as his band knock samba-infused tunes to the delight of the audience. The Rumble Teaser is a real alternative venue and Larrikin Love exemplify the independent music Lovebox has sought to nurture. These boys aren’t just quirky, they are psychotically individual.

And individuality remains the order of the day as Gogol Bordello take to the stage after an extended sound check. Their sound is a head-on collision between cranked-up punk rock and Eastern European music, with frontman Eugene Hutz looking like a cross between Spider from Corrie and the lead singer from Thin Lizzy. If gypo-rock is the next big thing, these guys are going to be bigger than Oasis. Perhaps the London crowd read the interview Hutz did in Metro a few weeks ago as the tent is rammed: it is so refreshing to see half naked bankers on 100k a year dancing to wild gypsy music like they had been raised in a caravan. A member of the audience wearing a red catsuit and green afro wig jumps on stage, pulls out a water gun and fires into the audience. Throw in a few goats and we could be in Ukraine. Hutz proclaims that his band are “in fact the best band in the world”. He might just be right.

So the evening is encroaching and the sun is setting, although still strong. The area around the main stage is starting to fill as Jimmy Cliff, having run through classics such as 'I Can See Clearly Now' exits. Drinks are being stockpiled as people pre-empt the crush that is about to ensue. Jamiroquai take to the stage. Well, the band at least.

As if Jay Kay was ever going to arrive with the rest of his group. As if he was ever going to walk, or at the very least strut, on stage. A guy wearing a huge blue and white Aztec jumper whilst donning an OTT statue-of-liberty style hat does not walk on stage. He doesn’t even run on stage. He leaps, and swirls and skips and bounds. Jamiroquai launch into 'Return Of the Space Cowboy' and the crowd go wild. Jay Kay is without doubt an incredible performer. But his band are equal to their front man’s skills. They are awesome. Vocals need to be turned up, but the little bolt of lightning that is shooting around the stage is captivating nonetheless. He runs up and down a purpose built skateboard ramp whilst singing 'Revolution'. The backing vocalists are gorgeous. The band are tight as a drum.

One member of the audience is wearing a pink cape and elaborate head dress akin to the singer’s own. "I like you", Jay begins, you’re outfit says to me you don’t care what other people think. In fact, come up here. Within seconds he is joined onstage by the overwhelmed fan who proceeds to run around the stage, striking poses like he’s in front of thousands of screaming fans. Which of course, he is.

The set ends with 'Deeper Underground', the nastiest of Jamiroquai’s tunes but easily the most bombastic and thus perfect to close Lovebox. Every single fan is dancing as the night draws in. East London hasn’t seen this kind of explosive action since World War Two. In the same way it doubled in size this year when compared to last year, Lovebox can only get bigger. It will however be hard for it to get any better.