THIS YEAR’S Trinity Ball is relatively smooth, although the lack of flights into Dublin airport certainly takes its toll on the line-up. Uffie and Digitalism’s last-minute cancellations cause widespread disappointment for electro fans, but luckily, the Irish acts really come into their own, with Delorentos and Bitches With Wolves drawing crowds of revellers.
Delorentos receive an enthusiastic welcome, and their set culminates with the audience dancing wildly to Secretand Stop, while shouting back every word. It seems strange that they are relegated to a smaller tent, since their loyal student fan base means that they could easily play the main stage.
By the time Bitches With Wolves appears, the atmosphere in the tent has become slightly sweaty and progressively more debauched. Frontman James O’Neill – who was DJ in the striped marquee of the War Tent less than an hour before – leaps onto the stage in a characteristically outlandish outfit, which consists of a fur coat, the top half of a tux, lycra shorts and a pair of vertiginous heels worthy of Joan Collins. The outdoor stage, placed strategically next to the bar in Front Square, has a solid line-up of tribute bands.
Over at the main stage, Dizzee Rascal is headlining, having overcome the ash cloud by braving the ferry to Dublin. His initial audience are pushed out due to crowd-control issues, but even as the stony-faced security guards try to clear a space, Rascal’s hype-men are busy stirring everyone to a frenzy with an incendiary mix of sirens, drumbeats and exhortations to “get moving”.
The tent quickly becomes jam-packed once again for Mystery Jets, who take to the stage in a haze of clanging guitars and psychedelic keyboard washes. Young Loveis backed up with an eclectic mixture of samples, whilst Half in Love with Elizabethhas all the rabble-rousing power of The Fratellis or Kaiser Chiefs. Fantastic as their set is, there are still a few disgruntled Digitalism fans hovering about outside, having discovered that the rumours of the band flying in by helicopter are definitely not true.
Jape, the final act, follows immediately afterwards, and the distinctive brand of jittery, bass-heavy electro succeeds in reviving a crowd that is starting to flag after six solid hours of partying. I Was A Manblares through the tent with its crunchy guitar and space-effect synths, as the rhythm section quakes the floor. A new song, Hands of Fire, is a kaleidoscope of keyboard arpeggios and ear-battering rhythms which reduce the crowd to a mass of flailing limbs. After Jape's set comes to its hypnotic conclusion, the lights go off, and everyone streams out, dazed, into the grey light of morning.
by Caitríona Gray, student journalist with Trinity News
