There’s a seemingly random sprawl to Lowlands Festival but from the opening grin of Culture Abuse’s gnarled set, there’s unity to be found.
The band are normally still asleep (“on your couch, ‘cos I’m a bum,”) at this time. Not that you’d know. Their fuzzy anthems of being down, out and still getting back up are delivered with the weight of determination, the conviction of self-belief and a glinting eye. There’s a sparkle to the grit. “We’re a band from America and we’re called Dead Nazis. We’re called Fuck Racism,” they start before the driving force of ‘So Busted’ comes out to play. “If you’re nice, kind, understanding and you care, it can go a long way.” Architects have a similar ethos, but theirs is less RSVP, more command. When Sam Carter tells the festival, “You’re mine for the next sixty minutes,” there’s no arguing. Ferocious and constantly threatening to tear the place apart, the band have fully embraced being in their prime. ‘All Our Gods Have Abandoned Us’ came as a warning cry but today it’s a soundtrack for fighting back. There are swings, sure, but you can’t move for the hits. They might be the heaviest band on the bill by quite some way but everything they throw, lands.
There’s more storytelling and wordplay with PVRIS, from the shadowy figures and out-of-focus ambush of ‘White Noise’ to the soon-to-be-explored landscape of ‘All We Know Of Heaven, All We Need Of Hell’, but live the escape is replaced with transformation. The arena tease anthems of ‘St. Patrick’ and ‘My House’ are still finding new space to dance, the fade of ‘You & I’ opens new lands of bewitching expanse while the everything touching fire of ‘Half’, the roar of ‘Heaven’ and the sparkling destruction in ‘What’s Wrong’ lift the band to even greater heights.
Glass Animals are riding a similar high. Leaning into the carnival spirit of ‘How To Be A Human Being’ and embracing the community within, the band are front, centre and leading the charge. Destination unknown but every bump in the road is another reason to celebrate. Theirs is a permanent sunshine that’s brightest when it’s bringing together strangers under the same joyous umbrella. Rain on this parade? Not a chance.
There’s less certainty with The XX. Yes, they’re a Very Good Band but headlining the Friday night of a festival isn’t their natural home. Or so you’d think. Somewhere between ‘I See You’ and now, the band have learnt to open themselves up and face outwards. It’s changed everything. From ‘Islands’ to ‘Dangerous’, the band conjure euphoria from the darkest of places, reflect it off a revolving column of mirrors, and beam it through every person playing. The beauty is still preserved but rather than something to admire, it’s now something to touch, feel and taste. The power of The XX lies in the interactions they inspire and the mass emotion they provoke.