Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
What’s rarer than a Bank Holiday heatwave? A Slam Dunk lineup this scorching. Slam Dunk South might have seen temperatures high enough to make us regret wearing our black scene gear for our day out, but it would turn into a day of revelations: acts we’d relegated to the sidelines of our listening coming into their own, old favourites undergoing reinventions, and festival debuts from some of the finest bands we’ve been waiting impatiently to catch live. For one day, we got to live the metaphorical Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous, surrounded by a wealth of top-tier music, and it was worth every patch of sunburn.
Glittery shirts and a whole lot of love for Call Me Amour kicks off the day, along with what must be the inaugural circle pit. It’s their first time playing any festival at all, and judging by the way ‘Bloom’ gently flowers into a chorus as pretty as its namesake, it won’t be their last. ‘Where’s The Chemistry?’ pulses with dark summer refreshment, and by emphasising the rock end of their sound, we’re fizzing from their Slam Dunk wake up call of a set.
Twiggy Ramirez grooves and summertime anthem energy? Yes please! Unpeople are joyful and heartfelt in their cross-genre rock appeal. ‘Going Numb’s grunge edges fade into indie screams as they take us on a voyage through their own sonic landscape through the dark recesses and sweeter rises of ‘Kangareuben’. They’re a dream of what the nineties scene could have led to had we taken different roads and a hopeful delight from start to finish.
A shot of high-jumping adrenaline, Cancer Bats bring a invigorating and furious thunderstorm of raging punk and outside energy to the East field. It’s been two decades since they released ‘Birthing The Giant’ and they’re determined to celebrate with a set dominated by their debut; ‘Shillelagh’s prowling desert rage blasts with drum-driven intensity, led by an infinitely bouncing Liam Cormier. Their highly refined lack of polish makes for an absolute mid-afternoon kick.
“I’m not sure if Emo music is the right vibe, there’s blue skies everywhere,” frontman JT Woodruff apologises, but he’s wrong. Hawthorne Heights lure a packed crowd to the far corner of the field, and we sing out the melody to ‘Pens And Needles’ like our lives depended on it, barely recovered after the piercing honesty and stirring honesty of ‘We Are So Last Year’. A full wave transforms this corner into the most sincere pit of the weekend as Hawthorne Heights’ self-proclaimed “Emo throwback bangers” send us back to the happy places of our youth.
Inflatable grim reapers, an onstage bar and the Team America soundtrack herald the arrival of Zebrahead, a band who have been stuck on the B-List for far too long. However, with punchy solos from the start and ska rhythms illuminating ‘We’re Not Alright’, that’s got to change. Ali Tabatabaee spits bars as crowd surfers flip forward on ‘Hello Tomorrow’ and ‘Rescue Me’ has reached full scream-it-out anthem status, the spectacle of the band obscured by the dust flung upwards by a roaring circle pit. Goldfinger join in for ‘The Perfect Crime’, a highlight of a set that’ll put Zebrahead back on the map.
“How the fuck did ten years go past so fast?” Tobi Duncan asks, and he’s determined to celebrate a decade of ‘Nothing I Write Can Change What You’ve Been Through’ ahead of their anniversary show this October. The smallest tent is packed with a fanbase fuelled by devotion, revelling in hearing a setlist that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. ‘Second Wind’s uplifting distortion gives way to the overflow of emotion that is ‘Catharsis’, and ‘Strangers’ feels like an emotional call to arms to send us back into the shocking brightness of the outside world.
Can anything top ska punk in the sunshine? Goldfinger are just always reliably a good band to catch, and the way ‘Counting The Days’ echoes back across the field would melt the most icy and cynical heart. ‘Freaking Out A Bit’ wraps the jaded lyrics in brassy professionalism, and dropping in covers of NOFX and Metallica adds a jaunty humour to the afternoon. Previous years would have seen them on the corner stage in the ska-punk ghetto, but the decision to give Goldfinger room on the main stage lineup is undoubtedly an amazing move.
There are two types of festival-goer: those that want the fun, and those that want the heaviness. For today’s crowd, the latter half have eschewed Goldfinger for the emotional earnestness of Boston Manor. With guitar lines like blades and an emotional urgency that demands you take notice, Boston Manor are proving to be the right choice for fans of the assertive, blunt and heavy. For those who opted to attend, ‘Laika’ acts as a reassurance that we were right to be here, as we stand strong in the packed out stage-front.
It’s The Home Team’s Slam Dunk debut and they’re bringing the party. ‘Brag’ grooves are a welcome respite from the heavier music with a focus on pure fun, their boyband energy extended to the most explosive and powerful rock conclusion. From the infinitely danceable ‘Overtime’ to the celebratory, grind-worthy ‘Loud’, each tune is more of a slap than the last, providing the festival feeling we’ve been craving.
The bustle of the day feels still as Dashboard Confessional present an oasis of semi-acoustic calm with ‘The Best Deceptions’, followed by the resonant universal truths of ‘The Sharp Hint of New Tears’. Of course, as Chris Carrabba explains, they “specialise in singing very sad songs,” but their set becomes a clearing full of joy in today’s forest of bands.
We’re hypnotically dragged across the field by the choppy strains of ‘I Don’t Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore’, the sound of The Menzingers unfiltered by sub-genre suffixes. They slide between the nihilistic optimism of ‘The Obituaries’ and the sly connection with the British crowd posed by ‘America (You’re Freaking Me Out)’, plus, of course, the Springsteen-esque realism of new song ‘Chance Encounters’ which gets its UK debut. As Greg Barnett’s roar grips our chests and sends hands aloft, we’re one again fortunate to have caught the Menzingers in their natural habitat.
The masked and tuxedoed politicians continue their meteoric rise with a set marked by a lengthy power cut and an absolute wave of devotion from their fanbase. ‘Fearless’ is gritty and explosive, their crashing sound growing in strength with every show, and ‘Dionysus’ smashes beyond the inevitable comparisons to Sleep Token. With unfortunately limited time onstage, they make every second count with some of the most blistering tunes of the day.
Even vocalist Adam Lazzara is astounded by the love he received from the crowd as Taking Back Sunday weave sophistication into the setting sun over the West field. He shakes his head in disbelief as we take over vocals on their iconic ‘Cute Without The ‘E’’, but how can he be surprised when we’ve already been slamming to the slinky bass permeating ‘Miami’ and rejoicing to the crisp solos in ‘Error: Operator’? The instantly danceable emo hits Taking Back Sunday lay on us are always a winner.
‘L.G. FUAD’ is like a firework going off on the Monster stage, a beacon for those of us still up for a party. Motion City Soundtrack know very well how to create fuzzy anthems, ‘My Favourite Accident’ cresting as a wave of positivity, the vibrant guitar keeping our spirits high. There’s no Patrick Stump guesting on ‘Particle Physics’, but who needs him when we’re buoyed aloft by MCS’ sweet and sour tunes to brighten the early evening?
It’s Sublime’s first UK show, and with Jakob Nowell taking over his dad’s role on lead vocals we knew all along we were in for a historic treat. They pay homage to the past with the inflatable Lou Dogs onstage, but with an undoubtably modern reinvention; covering Fallen Idols’ ‘Prince Of Sin’ gives Nowell a chance to shine on rapid-fire vocals in a set that dips and weaves between classic South Beach skate punk, dub and stoner rock. ‘Until The Sun Explodes’ might be played extra fast but it’s just as tender, and ‘Santeria’ feels like the homecoming every MTV kid was waiting for.
Rowdy and with a rhythm to shake the earth, Malevolence’s Alex Taylor is ready for anything in his pseudo-bulletproof vest. ‘So Help Me God’ poses and burns, ferocious and compelling, calling forth a colossal circle pit from those who want their evening exceptionally heavy. Their set passes in an instant, the kind of half hour you can lose yourself in, each song a tribute to the power of maximum noise.
It feels inevitable that one day Knocked Loose would have festival closer status, and today they’re as glitching and complex as ever, and their sound works tremendously on a huge stage. ‘Don’t Reach For Me’ shocks and jars, a song for a band revelling in their own chaos, and silhouetted by bare lights, we’re confronted by a band who have reached the place that they wanted to be all along. The ‘real’ closers for those flitting between the heaviest bands, Knocked Loose propels themselves through endless raging bass to create a massive hardcore finale.
The Brothers Madden and co are the star attraction at this year’s Slam Dunk with their first UK show in seven years and a setlist that’s crammed full of hits to spark waves of throwback fever. Even when they play their “emotional song”, ‘Hold On’, we’re swept up by their sound blasting into the night to the point that no one dare move to catch an early train home: we’re gripped by their retrospective, from the tightly-plotted ‘Riot Girl’ through to the galactic club energy of ‘The Chronicles of Life and Death’.
While they might be larger than life now, Good Charlotte have kept themselves firmly rooted in their teenage outsider perspective. ‘Rejects’’ dreamy harmonies keep the loner message light, and ‘Little Things’, dedicated to “every kid who ever got picked last in gym class”, slaps hard, the field a sea of glowing hands. “We’re going to turn this into a very 2001 Good Charlotte show right here,” declares Joel Madden, and reliving our teenage years is what we’re here for. We’re word perfect on ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’ – and we’ll ignore the irony considering the Maddens are married to Nicole Richie and Cameron Diaz when the live version of their hit is this good – and closing out with ‘The Anthem’ is an incredibly satisfying conclusion to our months of anticipation at seeing Good Charlotte live again. Okay, we won’t have too long to wait as they’re back in the UK in November, but as the fireworks send us on our way, we’ve got absolutely no complaints about our pop-punk favourites giving it their all.
KATE ALLVEY
Words: Kate Allvey // Photos: Paul Lyme, Penny Bennett
Call Me Amour
Glittery shirts and a whole lot of love for Call Me Amour kicks off the day, along with what must be the inaugural circle pit. It’s their first time playing any festival at all, and judging by the way ‘Bloom’ gently flowers into a chorus as pretty as its namesake, it won’t be their last. ‘Where’s The Chemistry?’ pulses with dark summer refreshment, and by emphasising the rock end of their sound, we’re fizzing from their Slam Dunk wake up call of a set.
Unpeople
Twiggy Ramirez grooves and summertime anthem energy? Yes please! Unpeople are joyful and heartfelt in their cross-genre rock appeal. ‘Going Numb’s grunge edges fade into indie screams as they take us on a voyage through their own sonic landscape through the dark recesses and sweeter rises of ‘Kangareuben’. They’re a dream of what the nineties scene could have led to had we taken different roads and a hopeful delight from start to finish.
Cancer Bats
A shot of high-jumping adrenaline, Cancer Bats bring a invigorating and furious thunderstorm of raging punk and outside energy to the East field. It’s been two decades since they released ‘Birthing The Giant’ and they’re determined to celebrate with a set dominated by their debut; ‘Shillelagh’s prowling desert rage blasts with drum-driven intensity, led by an infinitely bouncing Liam Cormier. Their highly refined lack of polish makes for an absolute mid-afternoon kick.
Hawthorne Heights
“I’m not sure if Emo music is the right vibe, there’s blue skies everywhere,” frontman JT Woodruff apologises, but he’s wrong. Hawthorne Heights lure a packed crowd to the far corner of the field, and we sing out the melody to ‘Pens And Needles’ like our lives depended on it, barely recovered after the piercing honesty and stirring honesty of ‘We Are So Last Year’. A full wave transforms this corner into the most sincere pit of the weekend as Hawthorne Heights’ self-proclaimed “Emo throwback bangers” send us back to the happy places of our youth.
Zebrahead
Inflatable grim reapers, an onstage bar and the Team America soundtrack herald the arrival of Zebrahead, a band who have been stuck on the B-List for far too long. However, with punchy solos from the start and ska rhythms illuminating ‘We’re Not Alright’, that’s got to change. Ali Tabatabaee spits bars as crowd surfers flip forward on ‘Hello Tomorrow’ and ‘Rescue Me’ has reached full scream-it-out anthem status, the spectacle of the band obscured by the dust flung upwards by a roaring circle pit. Goldfinger join in for ‘The Perfect Crime’, a highlight of a set that’ll put Zebrahead back on the map.
Trash Boat
“How the fuck did ten years go past so fast?” Tobi Duncan asks, and he’s determined to celebrate a decade of ‘Nothing I Write Can Change What You’ve Been Through’ ahead of their anniversary show this October. The smallest tent is packed with a fanbase fuelled by devotion, revelling in hearing a setlist that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. ‘Second Wind’s uplifting distortion gives way to the overflow of emotion that is ‘Catharsis’, and ‘Strangers’ feels like an emotional call to arms to send us back into the shocking brightness of the outside world.
Goldfinger
Can anything top ska punk in the sunshine? Goldfinger are just always reliably a good band to catch, and the way ‘Counting The Days’ echoes back across the field would melt the most icy and cynical heart. ‘Freaking Out A Bit’ wraps the jaded lyrics in brassy professionalism, and dropping in covers of NOFX and Metallica adds a jaunty humour to the afternoon. Previous years would have seen them on the corner stage in the ska-punk ghetto, but the decision to give Goldfinger room on the main stage lineup is undoubtedly an amazing move.
Boston Manor
There are two types of festival-goer: those that want the fun, and those that want the heaviness. For today’s crowd, the latter half have eschewed Goldfinger for the emotional earnestness of Boston Manor. With guitar lines like blades and an emotional urgency that demands you take notice, Boston Manor are proving to be the right choice for fans of the assertive, blunt and heavy. For those who opted to attend, ‘Laika’ acts as a reassurance that we were right to be here, as we stand strong in the packed out stage-front.
The Home Team
It’s The Home Team’s Slam Dunk debut and they’re bringing the party. ‘Brag’ grooves are a welcome respite from the heavier music with a focus on pure fun, their boyband energy extended to the most explosive and powerful rock conclusion. From the infinitely danceable ‘Overtime’ to the celebratory, grind-worthy ‘Loud’, each tune is more of a slap than the last, providing the festival feeling we’ve been craving.
Dashboard Confessional
The bustle of the day feels still as Dashboard Confessional present an oasis of semi-acoustic calm with ‘The Best Deceptions’, followed by the resonant universal truths of ‘The Sharp Hint of New Tears’. Of course, as Chris Carrabba explains, they “specialise in singing very sad songs,” but their set becomes a clearing full of joy in today’s forest of bands.
The Menzingers
We’re hypnotically dragged across the field by the choppy strains of ‘I Don’t Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore’, the sound of The Menzingers unfiltered by sub-genre suffixes. They slide between the nihilistic optimism of ‘The Obituaries’ and the sly connection with the British crowd posed by ‘America (You’re Freaking Me Out)’, plus, of course, the Springsteen-esque realism of new song ‘Chance Encounters’ which gets its UK debut. As Greg Barnett’s roar grips our chests and sends hands aloft, we’re one again fortunate to have caught the Menzingers in their natural habitat.
President
The masked and tuxedoed politicians continue their meteoric rise with a set marked by a lengthy power cut and an absolute wave of devotion from their fanbase. ‘Fearless’ is gritty and explosive, their crashing sound growing in strength with every show, and ‘Dionysus’ smashes beyond the inevitable comparisons to Sleep Token. With unfortunately limited time onstage, they make every second count with some of the most blistering tunes of the day.
Taking Back Sunday
Even vocalist Adam Lazzara is astounded by the love he received from the crowd as Taking Back Sunday weave sophistication into the setting sun over the West field. He shakes his head in disbelief as we take over vocals on their iconic ‘Cute Without The ‘E’’, but how can he be surprised when we’ve already been slamming to the slinky bass permeating ‘Miami’ and rejoicing to the crisp solos in ‘Error: Operator’? The instantly danceable emo hits Taking Back Sunday lay on us are always a winner.
Motion City Soundtrack
‘L.G. FUAD’ is like a firework going off on the Monster stage, a beacon for those of us still up for a party. Motion City Soundtrack know very well how to create fuzzy anthems, ‘My Favourite Accident’ cresting as a wave of positivity, the vibrant guitar keeping our spirits high. There’s no Patrick Stump guesting on ‘Particle Physics’, but who needs him when we’re buoyed aloft by MCS’ sweet and sour tunes to brighten the early evening?
Sublime
It’s Sublime’s first UK show, and with Jakob Nowell taking over his dad’s role on lead vocals we knew all along we were in for a historic treat. They pay homage to the past with the inflatable Lou Dogs onstage, but with an undoubtably modern reinvention; covering Fallen Idols’ ‘Prince Of Sin’ gives Nowell a chance to shine on rapid-fire vocals in a set that dips and weaves between classic South Beach skate punk, dub and stoner rock. ‘Until The Sun Explodes’ might be played extra fast but it’s just as tender, and ‘Santeria’ feels like the homecoming every MTV kid was waiting for.
Malevolence
Rowdy and with a rhythm to shake the earth, Malevolence’s Alex Taylor is ready for anything in his pseudo-bulletproof vest. ‘So Help Me God’ poses and burns, ferocious and compelling, calling forth a colossal circle pit from those who want their evening exceptionally heavy. Their set passes in an instant, the kind of half hour you can lose yourself in, each song a tribute to the power of maximum noise.
Knocked Loose
It feels inevitable that one day Knocked Loose would have festival closer status, and today they’re as glitching and complex as ever, and their sound works tremendously on a huge stage. ‘Don’t Reach For Me’ shocks and jars, a song for a band revelling in their own chaos, and silhouetted by bare lights, we’re confronted by a band who have reached the place that they wanted to be all along. The ‘real’ closers for those flitting between the heaviest bands, Knocked Loose propels themselves through endless raging bass to create a massive hardcore finale.
Good Charlotte
The Brothers Madden and co are the star attraction at this year’s Slam Dunk with their first UK show in seven years and a setlist that’s crammed full of hits to spark waves of throwback fever. Even when they play their “emotional song”, ‘Hold On’, we’re swept up by their sound blasting into the night to the point that no one dare move to catch an early train home: we’re gripped by their retrospective, from the tightly-plotted ‘Riot Girl’ through to the galactic club energy of ‘The Chronicles of Life and Death’.
While they might be larger than life now, Good Charlotte have kept themselves firmly rooted in their teenage outsider perspective. ‘Rejects’’ dreamy harmonies keep the loner message light, and ‘Little Things’, dedicated to “every kid who ever got picked last in gym class”, slaps hard, the field a sea of glowing hands. “We’re going to turn this into a very 2001 Good Charlotte show right here,” declares Joel Madden, and reliving our teenage years is what we’re here for. We’re word perfect on ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’ – and we’ll ignore the irony considering the Maddens are married to Nicole Richie and Cameron Diaz when the live version of their hit is this good – and closing out with ‘The Anthem’ is an incredibly satisfying conclusion to our months of anticipation at seeing Good Charlotte live again. Okay, we won’t have too long to wait as they’re back in the UK in November, but as the fireworks send us on our way, we’ve got absolutely no complaints about our pop-punk favourites giving it their all.
KATE ALLVEY