“Beers, bass and mates – that’s it,” reads a flag standing tall in the middle of the field before The Other Stage. It’s a simple message, but one that feels fitting for Fred Again…’s much-anticipated set this evening (June 23): born Frederick Gibson, the south Londoner ties up bright, free-flowing songs of connection, desire, and unflailing optimism with the magnetism of a person who’s a little too modest to be a popstar, taking cues from UK bass music past and present, from jungle to garage and beyond. Across three albums in his ‘Actual Life’ series, the DJ, Brian Eno protégé, and one-time producer for Ed Sheeran and George Ezra has continued to go for the big feelings, and as a result, inspires rapturous devotion.
It’s been something of a banner year for Gibson: earlier this month, he headlined Manchester’s Parklife Festival, while April saw him top the bill at Coachella after subbing in last-minute for Frank Ocean alongside his close collaborators Skrillex and Four Tet, with whom he played New York’s Madison Square Garden a month prior. Four consecutive dates at London’s 10,000-capacity Alexandra Palace in October will only affirm his ascent into bonafide superstar territory; even if the recent furore regarding his public school background – and ties to the British peerage system – has posed wider questions about the class structure and accessibility in contemporary UK dance music.
For the eye-wateringly large crowd at The Other Stage, Gibson could be streaming his hours of his chunky, palatable beats, thumping oontz-oontz moments, and sampled vocals (070 Shake on ‘Danielle (Smile On My Face)’; an unreleased track with Obongjayar) straight off a pre-recorded tape for all they care, but nonetheless he pulls off an hour of understated spectacle. Hell, when the fizzing ‘Rumble’ is remixed and reloaded, a team of hi vis-wearing security guards along the barrier start dancing away, backs turned to the stage.
Seemingly, then, it is nigh on impossible to walk away from a Fred Again.. show not feeling uplifted, even if the emotional cues are crudely, blatantly sign-posted. Donning a crisp white t-shirt and Chesire Cat-sized smile, and breaking into either gun fingers or shouts of “geez!” every time a chorus hits, he is both a cartoon of every young, casual, rollie-smoking dance music fan – and yet somehow still singular in his endearingly awkward presence. Throughout slow-burning opener ‘Kyle (I Found You)’, he bounces around with the same goofy energy as a bobble head toy, before a text message from Gibson flashes up on screen throughout ‘Bleu (Better With Time)’. “Glastonbury, this is my favourite place on EARTH”, it reads. “This was the place I always dreamt to play. Ahhh!”
When Gibson encourages the entire crowd to get on each other’s shoulders for his Blessed Madonna collaboration ‘Marea (We Lost Dancing)’, the field obliges, with their iPhones and pyro raised skywards at the ready for the beat drop. For a moment, the set feels like Glastonbury’s most sought-after selfie and BeReal destination, but Gibson clearly has the ability to bring people together in a way that few of his peers manage.
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