LIVE REVIEWS
In partnership with Open’er Festival
Words: Jordan Bassett and Kyann-Sian Williams
As we’ve discussed this week, you never know quite what to expect at Open’er Festival, the four-day extravaganza in Gdynia, Poland, which this year sees epics sets from Muse, Linkin Park, Little Simz, Doechi and loads more. When you’re not enjoying one of the admirably odd attractions such as the Guess Jeans dance hall where you can have a boogie and watch a video of some trousers rolling around the washing machine, there’s plenty further down the line-up to make your eyes pop.
Take Dom Qultury, a smaller tent tucked away in the corner of this enormous airfield, which on Thursday (July 3) hosted the Gender Blender, a series of drag and cabaret acts that included a guy in a pink suit who did an extremely wholesome acrobatic striptease on a bistro table to Jason Mraz’s ‘If It Kills Me’. Here’s what else we saw on day two.
Hard to believe, but somehow true. In what was admittedly a very different performance, Trent Reznor and his merry band of techno-punks took to the main stage at 10pm for a truly electrifying set. The band was packed tight together, hemmed in by rows of gigantic, white-hot lightbulbs at the front and sides of the stage; it was sort of like Kanye West’s 2015 performance at Glastonbury, but without a slightly awkward rap on top of a crane.
It was less divisive, too. The sound of that buzzing, grinding guitar seemed to jolt the huge audience, who bounced and jostled as one seething mass, only extracting themselves from one another to form a huge circle pit to the pulverising likes of ‘Copy Of A’. Punters spilled way back past the viewing platform towards the middle of the field, marking this as one of the most enthusiastically attended shows of the festival so far.
Reznor seemed to appreciate the explosive atmosphere at the Gdynia-Kosakowo Airfield. Clad in industrial-looking black jeans, boots and jacket, he swung on his mic stand as the pit scythed before him and threw his hands up like a preacher when the band pumped out the liquid funk of horndog anthem ‘Closer’. At one point, backed by the galloping beat of ‘God Break Down The Door’, he parped away on squalling sax. At another, before a cover of David Bowie’s stuttering ‘I’m Afraid Of Americans’, he intoned, “This is a song we got to work on with our hero,” adding that its sentiment “seems to get more true” with every day that passes.
The only crowd member who didn’t seem to be completely transported by the whole affair was one guy towards the left of the stage, who stood there calmly juggling balls while the carnage erupted around him. You see it all at Open’er. (JB)
The saying goes that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. So, having seen Future repeatedly at various festivals, you’re prepared to be underwhelmed: something about a trap pioneer – a musical needlemover, if you will – pacing the stage, performing half his lyrics like we’re in a karaoke bar, gets old. Plus, Future was nearly an hour late at Open’er and killed all anticipation – especially when every other set here has been so prompt. But, rocking his new bleach blond ‘fro and simple (yet probably expensive) tee and shorts, he swiftly apologised by being a chaos merchant, flipping the crowd’s disappointment into pure wildness with his classic trap war-cries.
The mosh pit is his kingdom – a sweaty, chaotic space where controlled chaos reigns suprem and only he knows how to command it. “Open it up!” quickly became one of Future’s go-to lines and with just these few words, the masses moved as crates were carved in the heart of the crowd, creating a sandy haze as powdery mud and sweat rose throughout the air amid the jumping. On a cold coastal night, you left the pit drenched – preferably in your own sweat, but maybe someone else’s too. “I knew Poland was gonna turn up with me tonight,” Future praised, dripping with raw reverence as though we’d be tired at one-something in the morning: we’ll rage at any time.
This Polish rap audience has truly embraced the art of moshing. Here, taking cues from rock’s originators, kids pushed open a huge circle and let it be: limbs swinging to the 808s, shadowboxing their inhibitions – but they also banished the mindless and robotic collisions of a normal rap mosh pit. You felt safe in arguably the most dangerous place in the crowd. With pyro flaring behind him, Future’s set didn’t just bring the heat – it was a visceral reminder of how a live rap show should feel: wild, unruly and utterly alive. (KSW)
The crowd chanted, “Tyla, we wanna party!” – and party we did at the South African pop princess’ Polish debut. Bringing amapiano straight from Johannesburg to Gdynia, she owned the Open’er main stage with dancers in tow replicating the same moves that set dancefloors ablaze back home. Tyla slunk across the stage, swishing her hair and hips with effortless cool, before breaking into the Bacardi dance she made viral. She was clearly on a mission to provide energy under the Polish sun, and Tyla did just that.
It felt like the crowd was transported to 3025 during J Balvin’s set. Inflatable cars floated above the stage while supercomputer-like graphics scrawled across the screens behind him, the Colombian reggaeton legend rocking a pair of glasses only Marty McFly could also pull off. The otherworldly visuals perfectly matched the out-of-this-world energy pulsing through the crowd. Self-proclaimed salsa specialists swung their friends around, tangoing under the stars to the fiery Latin pop pouring out from the Tent stage. Though many didn’t speak Spanish, Balvin indicated “we’re all Latino” in spirit, uniting the masses while delivering his fiery rhythms that lit up the night. (KSW)
At 1am, as Future put on his grand, dramatic and at times somewhat gothic performance on the main stage, Caribou’s Dan Snaith padded onstage before a packed audience in the Alter tent, dressed down in a white t-shirt, cream trousers and a pair of blue socks. You felt like you were in the dance whizz’s living room as he and his four-piece band jammed through ‘Volume’, his louche, discofied take on electro pioneers M|A|R|R|S’ influential 1987 hit ‘Pump Up The Volume’. Ever-zen, Snaith didn’t even bat an eye when a drone sauntered through the air, whizzed around the stage and headed back into the audience. (JB)
LIVE REVIEWS
Arriving at The O2 for the first night of Radiohead’s London residency, we walk in under Stanley Donwood artwork lining the walkway and the lines of the band’s bleak modern chant “Fitter Happier” printed on a huge banner hanging from the ceiling of the former Millennium Dome. The moment instantly brings back memories of walking into Oasis’ Live “25” tour earlier this summer. This is the other major rock return of the year and the atmosphere carries a different kind of excitement, yet the intensity feels just as real. Instead of bucket hats and throwing drinks into warm air, we have cold weather and a slow shuffle through the night to gather in the dark. Toniiiiiight, I’m a pig in a cage on antibiotics.
It almost feels unreal that nine full years have passed since Radiohead’s last album, the rich and sorrowful “A Moon Shaped Pool”, and that they have not toured since 2017. In between, we have seen several side-projects, including Ed O’Brien’s overlooked but inspired solo run as EOB and the way Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood nearly recreated Radiohead’s spirit under a different name through the sharp jazz-rock of The Smile, as well as a wave of controversy.
After performing in Tel Aviv in 2017, questions grew louder about the band’s connection to Israel as the horrors of the genocide in Gaza intensified. Attention landed on Greenwood’s collaboration with Dudu Tassa, an Israeli musician who has played for the IDF, and on Yorke’s later comments responding to criticism. The guitarist had joined anti-government protests in Israel, where his wife is from, and the band recently made their views clear again by speaking out against Netanyahu’s regime, insisting that music should be something that unites people from every culture. That idea guides the show tonight, where there is no sign of protest or boycott.
The audience surrounds the stage, which sits in the center to create a more personal and absorbing feeling than most massive arena shows ever manage. A flickering vocoder opens the room and builds tension before the band walk out and jump straight into old-school territory with the raw guitar gloom of “The Bends” opener “Planet Telex”. It is one of many choices designed to thrill the crowd from a group not always associated with this kind of approach, and the packed venue screams back “everything is broken. why can’t you forget?” as a shared release against everything falling apart in the world around us.
With a “busking approach” guiding the tour, the band rehearsed more than 70 songs and have performed around 43 so far, so this is not the predictable hit conveyor belt of Oasis’ shows. It feels refreshing to never know what is coming next. The setlist leans heavily on the treasures from “OK Computer” and “In Rainbows” and gives equal space to the once-dismissed but now appreciated “Hail To The Thief”. It creates a kind of Radiohead-style hit parade, without “Creep” of course, and includes the occasional glammed-up oddity to let the show breathe.
There is the roaring political fear of “2+2=5”, the huge and aching sweep of “Lucky”, the pulsing electronic rush of “15 Step” and the joyful sing-along of “No Surprises” anchoring the early part of the performance. This section also includes “Sit Down. Stand Up.” with a new soft happy hardcore ending, “Bloom” from the fragile “The King Of Limbs” that now carries a brighter neon energy, and “The Gloaming” flowing into “Kid A”, giving the night a moment to sink before everything intensifies again.
There is not a single chance for a toilet break from that moment onward. From the gentle pain of “Videotape”, to the wild three-part surge of “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” into “Idioteque” and “Everything In Its Right Place”, to the guitar-driven “In Rainbows” songs and the massive first-act finale of “There There”, every moment lands exactly how a Radiohead fan would hope. The visuals also look spectacular.
Then we reach the reward of a seven-song encore that reads like fantasy on paper, complete with the newly viral “Let Down”, a playful return to “a song we wrote on a freezing cold farm in 1994” with the indie powerhouse “Just”, and the huge final blow of “Karma Police”. This show becomes the cinematic and artistic contrast to Oasis’ carefree chaos, capturing that feeling of “standing on the edge” and letting everything wash over you. The entire night carries a fierce energy and a well-judged sense of scale, offered with warmth and intention, and Yorke leans fully into his rockstar presence as the band rotate around the stage to engage each part of the arena. For a group that once cringed at the idea of “arena rock”, no one performs it better. A new album and another night like this would be welcome as soon as possible.
‘Planet Telex’
‘2 + 2 = 5’
‘Sit Down. Stand Up.’
‘Lucky’
‘Bloom’
‘15 Step’
‘The Gloaming’
‘Kid A’
‘No Surprises’
‘Videotape’
‘Weird Fishes/Arpeggi’
‘Idioteque’
‘Everything In Its Right Place’
‘The National Anthem’
‘Daydreaming’
‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’
‘Bodysnatchers’
‘There There’
‘Fake Plastic Trees’
‘Let Down’
‘Paranoid Android’
‘You and Whose Army?’
‘A Wolf at the Door’
‘Just’
‘Karma Police’
