Festival review: La Route du Rock
After a last minute invite made its way to my inbox, I found myself on an overnight ferry to Saint-Malo, tequila sunrise in hand (crazy, I know) and some questionable onboard cabaret for entertainment. A few ABBA covers later and I realised that I didn’t quite know what to expect from La Route Du Rock. Sure, I had heard of its photogenic location and knack for attracting cult headliners, but I wasn’t really prepared…
My normal pre-festival mantra consists of meticulously planning a schedule and ensuring any clashes are solved with a heated personal debate. But in this case, none of that would be possible – or indeed necessary. That’s because La Route Du Rock has a festival ethos that puts intricate curation to the forefront, resulting in a fine-tuned schedule without overlapping between stages. Essentially, you get to see everyone on the line-up with set times to perfectly match your level of intoxication.
Julia Holter
The opening night unveiled a showcase event hosted by Domino Records and located in a suitably intimate downtown venue, aka La Nouvelle Vague. Whimsical songstress, Julia Holter, provided an idyllic introduction to the evening, combining haunting vocals with a thematic 4-piece backing band. Next on stage was post-punk outfit, Clinic, who drastically flip-turned the decibels to distortional heights. Geared in their trademark surgeon attire, the nauseating Liverpudlians deviated between an 8-album discography, constantly threatening to disjoint my already hungover head. Thankfully, Austra took to the stage and closed the evening amid a dreamlike palette of sonic melodies, with Stelmanis’ propulsive coo’s enough to soothe any Clinic-induced headache. (Thanks Austra!)
Nick Cave
C’est Jeudi and time to make our way to the Vauban castle that plays host for the pending three evenings. It’s quite fitting that La Route Du Rock dwells within an 18th century fort, and who better to first bombard the main stage than chaotic punk group, Iceage. The Danish quartet exhibiting a pent up angst that combusted in the opening moments of their set, before duly diluting into what can only be described as a teenage strop. Perhaps it was the lack of branded knives available at the merchandise stand?
Anyway, Local Natives were up next and bestowed a more than worthy opener for Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds. I’ve never truly held a place in my heart (read: iTunes library) for Nick Cave, but if ever there was a performance to warrant a complete musical overhaul, this was it. Constantly gyrating – and not falling – in front of a crowd of adoring fans, culminating with a emphatic rendition of ‘Higgs Boson Blues’.
TNGHT
Where UK festivals tend to leave you stranded in the middle of a damp field sipping on warm cider, Brittany’s Emerald Coast offers an abundance of exterior pleasures. Naturally, a trip to the port of Cancale for oysters was imperative. With a bellyful of libido enhancers, it seemed appropriate to make it back for Jackson Scott, performing on the Scène Des Remparts stage. Fronting more surfer dude steeze than anyone named Brody, it was easy to see why countless love struck babes filled the audience. Maybe oysters were the universal plat du jour?
Bromancing aside, it was time to meander over to the main stage for a double bill of atmospheric ensembles, taking the form of Efterklang and Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Despite the downpour – yes, it rains in France too – it was clear that this was the calm before the vowel-less storm, otherwise known as TNGHT. The production duo had the not-so-difficult task of playing to a 10,000 strong crowd, peaking from the effects of an alcohol-fuelled day. The result: a raucous affair with as many stomps as there were gyrating bodies.
Parquet Courts
The final day consisted of perhaps the most impressive line-up, and in retrospect, the highlight performance of the festival. Enter Parquet Courts, who embodied a sole reason for the introduction of the smaller second stage. Unlike follow up, Suuns, whose guitar freakouts sounded more like a masturbatory exercise in pedal fiddling, Parquet Courts unleashed a whirlwind of sweat drenched head banging. A set that could only be expressed via rock hands and chants of ‘HELL YEAH!’
Next, it was Tame Impala’s turn to dose out a batch of musically induced highs. Despite lacklustre appearances at recent festivals, the Perth psych rockers produced a refreshingly free flowing set and finally felt like a band enjoying their time on stage. Not even a personal vendetta against the windows 98-esque visuals could subtract from the seamless performance. Bringing the festival to a close was left in the more than capable hands of Hot Chip and Disclosure. The two representing different ends of the British pop spectrum – both in sound and age – yet equally capable of a pop-filled crescendo.
Tame Impala
“When you love music, you just come to La Route Du Rock” were the words boasted by one of the festival organisers before the gates had even opened. At first, the claim may have seemed self-indulged, lucrative even. But fast-forward four days of carefully selected music, birthed from the desperation to introduce bands to a small village in Brittany, and you can’t help but agree: If you love music, you should definitely go to La Route Du Rock.
Check out everything from La Route du Rock here.
– James Embiricos
