Review: Eastern Electrics

From humble beginnings throwing low-key parties down in the capital, it’s surprising how fast Eastern Electrics has morphed into a proper festival. This year’s venue – Knebworth Park – definitely shows their expansive ambition. And kudos to the organisers for managing to keep an intimate feel to the 6-stage setup. There’s even a helter-skelter if that’s your kind of bag.

Friday kicks off with the likes of Bicep and Deetron in the main tent, bringing feel-good, no thrills house to the growing horde of punters seeking shelter from the midday heat. It’s muggy as hell, but that doesn’t stop the gradual exodus across to D-town icon Theo Parrish on the Black Atlantic stage. Parrish is unpredictable as ever, reeling through a mixed bag of soulful house, RnB and heavier techno. Peven Everett’s ‘Stuck’ sticks out as a memorable highlight, and confirms that Theo – by the look on his face – is arguably having a better time than anybody within a 500-yard radius. I really wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up on the helter-skelter.

As the evening draws in, Ben UFO gladly takes the reins and offers up an altogether more stable affair. His now trademark blend of everything from Trax classics to obscure British electro is served with mechanical precision, reaffirming his status as one of the most reliable jocks on the circuit. We manage to catch the tail end of Maurice Fulton before midnight strikes, and then it’s over to the first of the weekend’s Puerto Rican house bigwigs, DJ Sneak. By the early hours of the morning the crowd has thinned considerably, leaving those who haven’t retreated back to their tents to enjoy a very audacious booking, Blawan on last at 5am.

Saturday gets going with Heidi on the Switchyard stage, a circle of stacked shipping containers with a dancefloor in the centre. She’s one of many to drop ‘Werrk’ and ‘Gypsy Woman’, both of which seem to be heavily doing the rounds. Next up, avoiding all things Hot Natured, Roman Flugel lives up to expectation by drowning out any distant echoes of ‘Reverse Skydiving’. There’s not too much else to write home about, other than Josh Wink’s acid-flecked selections, Planetary Assault System’s extraordinary live set at 3am and Pan-Pot’s crowd-friendly conglomeration of cheesy vocal loops and dirty basslines. Cringy shouts of ‘Oh my Gad’ aplenty during Tiga’s ‘Mind Dimension’.

By Sunday morning, everybody is feeling a little ruffled but any thoughts of feeling sorry for oneself are allayed by Louche’s inspiring P-Bar coup of Tama Sumo and Prosumer. Out of the two, the former is on point mixwise, while the latter takes the biscuit in terms of selection.  Despite a few technical hiccups, the big bearded figure of Achim Brandenburg steals the show, particularly when easing into Suzy Q’s fantastic slice of Atlantic funk ‘I Can’t Give You More’. Tearing ourselves away from the Igloo tent (it was shaped like an igloo), the time flies and soon enough the inimitable figures of Masters At Work appear in the main tent. As expected, they bring the goods in terms of chiming piano house, salsa and a fair few singalongs too. ‘It’s Alright I Feel It’ is probably one of the most majestic ways to end any festival; it’s just a pity that the duo’s dynamic set was cut short by time limitations.

The music finishes not a minute over 10pm, a slight shame given that now everybody is suitably pumped, but probably for the best. A distant echo of ‘I Wanna Be Your Lover’ rings out before all goes silent, leaving the masses to saunter back to Stevenage and to wonder how the weekend has already been and gone. Roll on next year.