Metropolis: Saturday review

On a day dominated by super musical men, it was a rising female hero that kickstarted Metropolis in style.
Gemma Dunleavy had told us ahead of the set: "I’m not looking for people to see my show and go away saying 'they were great songs', I want to have a proper impact, whether it’s good or bad. I love making people really, really uncomfortable and then switching it up really fast and making them feel like they’re having the most euphoric moment of their life."
Well, mission accomplished. A real production - as she forecasted, she was still dishing out last minute instructions to her colleagues seconds before showtime - she took to the stage with seven others, including a choir of four. Things got underway in haunting fashion, with choral chanting that verged on the religious. From there, references to Jesus and jarring percussion slams soon morphed into something altogether more pop and overtly sexual as the Dublin singer-songwriter commanded the spotlight solo.
Beyonce influences began to spill over vocally; this was not so much avant-garde pop as apocalypse R&B with nods to trip-hop. With a different backing, a number of these tunes could be Rihanna hits.
That backing was abrasive and to the fore, however, occasionally disconcerting in the way it collided with the sultry melodies, but never less than gripping. Add in vivid projections and a cloud of dry ice and you had a moody, singular start to Metropolis in Serpentine Hall.
An evergreen festival proposition, Booka Brass Band proved their party sounds don't just work in the sunshine. Their own compositions are almost as accomplished as the chart classics they pump out, but R Kelly's 'Ignition (Remix)' was their ace on the day.
Over in the Main Hall, Cloud Castle Lake did an admirable job keeping the Irish end up. On a weekend littered with acts that prowl the dancer, more hip hop-influenced end of the spectrum, this was bracing rock given extra oomph with some glorious brass. A visceral set that you wouldn't usually expect of a lazy festival afternoon.
Totally nuking any cobwebs were Le Galaxie on the same stage as tea time arrived.
The masses had descended now and it proved to be a performance that solidified the Dublin combo's place at Irish music's high table. The arena was, in a word, rammed.
Facepaint applied, the band donned the kind of all-white outfits that Johnny Borrell pretty much ruined almost a decade ago. They certainly reclaimed it as a suave look.
Le Club tracks hit hard and Mr. Pope was a constantly moving, captivating presence dead centre.
The final triumphant brace of songs saw the sonic spacemen joined by Fight Like Apes' MayKay, first for radio monster 'Carmen' and then, in the absence of Elaine Mai, for a swooning, hypnotic 'Love System' complete with sax solo. MayKay, wearing a red leather jacket a la Thriller era Jacko, works beautifully opposite Pope and it was a treat to see two of the country's finest performers trading moves.
By the end, Le Galaxie themselves were clearly just as thrilled as the crowd, calling for a photographer to capture the big moment. A well-deserved win.
Sticking in that arena, Chicago's Vic Mensa showed he was totally up for winning over the Irish audience. Packing a powerful punch on his own bass-heavy hip-hop, playing 'The Boys Are Back In Town' and 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' without actually augmenting the recorded versions at all could have seemed like a cheap trick, but his genuine enthusiasm for the classic rock as he bounced around the stage shown through. He then proved his he's got plenty of gold material of his own up his sleeve for the raucous finale. On this evidence his debut album can't arrive quickly enough.
Keeping it hip-hop, The Roots showed why they're regarded as one of the best live bands in the world, period.
They unleashed a melange of styles, showing off their muso prowess and encyclopaedic knowledge with snippets of classic tracks melding into their own efforts.
If you were nitpicking, some of the solos verged on the indulgent - no one in their right mind has ever called out for extended bass and drums workouts, and while sampler par excellence Jeremy Ellis fared better alone (epic Mario breakdown), it went on a couple of minutes too long.
Still, you can't argue with 'You Got Me' or 'The Seed (2.0)' both saved for the climax and delivered in a more ragged, amorphous style. The synchronised dancing/playing at the end? It was like watch Public Enemy's The Security of the First World do their drills after a few scoops during peacetime. Big fun.
The one-way system and packed house meant a trip over to watch the wondrous Vince Staples was out of the question, so we stayed stage left to catch headliners Hot Chip.
It was well worth setting up camp, as the Londoners somehow one-upped The Roots in the good time stakes. It helps that the electro-poppers now have an arsenal of sophisticated but catchy-as-all-hell anthems that they can roll out at will.
Kaleidoscopic heartbreaker 'Flutes' was a mid-set highlight, and by the time 'Over And Over' arrived all bets were off. 'Ready For The Floor' was stripped of its more melancholy sounds and pared with some guitar funk that recalled 'Girls Just Want To Have Fun', and 'One Life Stand' and 'Boy From School' sent the crowd into such a frenzy that not many noticed the band had been joined by Four Tet on guitar.
Displaying total confidence, they broke a cardinal rule by not finishing on their own song but it was a great call as 'Dancing In the Dark' (missing a bit of Bruce's Elvis-style American yearning but locating a strain of English wistfulness) segued into a burst of LCD Soundsystem's 'All My Friends'. James Murphy would certainly have approved.