The Fringefest came to an end today, but it concluded good and proper for us last night with the Rockcandy Carnival event in the Speigaltent attempting to draw in some dosh for the Dublin Simon Community. The tent was certainly less crowded than on other nights, with the wooden ballroom style dancefloor never reaching more than half of its capacity. If the night was dominated by anything it was by that backward glance to eighties sequined chic that seems so ubiquitously attached to the non-chalent Dublin hipster scene. So there were synths and lots of them.

Les Bien opened up preceedings, heavily reminiscent of a car crash between Petty Hate Machine Nine era Inch Nails and the gritty bass undertones of Air's 'Sexy Boy', with the tempo of Underworld and the catchy drum kickings of New Order added for a dash of good measure. The next act Produse, left me rather confused; dwarved behind stacks of mean looking synths, drum machines and various hardware contraptions their bastardised blend of four by four dance left me eyeing around convinced they had to be Hystereo. Packing in the crowd pleasers they moved easily between they're own pieces and classics like 'Block Rockin' Beats.' Gawking over their myspace they seem linked into the wider Hystereo/Backlash scene so dominant in Dublin right now. Hystereo, such a highlight at the Electric Picnic and last weekend failed to really live up to the expectation that dragged me down to the Spiegaltent again, the sound seemed to some what falter after Produse, the bass never kicked in the same way and it felt a little empty on a dance floor of drunks barging each other out of the way and bumping into each other with out apologies.

Despite its all good intentions, the night smacked of that lack of critical air that's so dense around fundraisers for the NGO's. Some bloke who said 'groovy' so often as MC, you began to hope he'd choke on it bigged up a raffles for Budda Bags and signed acoustic guitars, and you are wondering 'my god where are my drugs?' Surrounded by over priced ethnic jewelry and knock off Banky designer t-shirts and art prints, the night had that Electric Picnic soul about it without any of the music to boot.

On nights like that you expect a party to arise and bite you with a taste of sanity in the nouveau riche hell that Dublin drowns you in. Then quickly instead you find yourself in the very hell mouth as 'Break on Through' by The Doors blares and the new students roar 'I fucking love this song.' That hell mouth is called Doyles and with the torrential downpour forcing you into cover on a window ledge behind some railings another Fringefest and another year in terms of the student calendar comes to pass. Now that I think of it where the fuck were the Betamax Format at that gig? Weren't they billed?

Labels: Art, Doyles, Dublin, Fringefest, Gig Review, Hystereo, Music, Theatre

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