Having seen the line-up some months earlier, ‘One Love Peace Festival’ struck me as an incredible prospect. Just a single day in length, it seemed many of the world’s highest profile Reggae artists would cram into Wembley Arena for an intense party with a massive crowd only a hop, skip and a jump from central London. It sounded too good to be true...
Arriving at Wembley Arena on a stunning English summers day (they do exist... every now and then), the baking heat was inescapable as it reflected off the endless concrete and metals that pave the local area beneath the towering arch of Wembley stadium.
A strong buzz of activity was present around the iconic arena as thousands of people investigated the food and drinks stalls, ice cream vans and the pit-stop options of sun-splashed steps or shady havens outside the main doors. Wembley was alive with a mix of genders, ages, ethnicities, styles, accents and personalities – there seemed to be a truly universal appeal amongst today’s line-up.
Getting into the festival proved a slight hurdle though, as aside from the large queues outside, my photographer’s pit pass was not present when collecting my tickets. This delayed our progress somewhat, though luckily the kind staff managed to remedy the situation without us missing too many major acts. Once inside, a lively vibe was present and the powerful sound system punched bass that reverberated around your chest crisply, whilst pinging out high ranges that replicated even the faintest hiss of a recovering hi-hat.
Just wrapping up his set as we found our seats, I was pleased to find that Gyptian had kept my favourite track, ‘Hold Yuh’ till last; there was a huge explosion of energy as the very first of the signature piano keys rang out across London, and the crowd’s passion continued throughout the song. Catching up with Gyptian backstage briefly after his set, he gave a big shout out to his fans at GigJunkie, then noted exactly what an event like this meant to him, saying, “It’s all about endorsing love and showing the people that we really need it”, continuing, “we have to keep on reminding people that One Love, (is the) same love that we need and be longing for”, before he was whisked away by the PR crew.
Back in the arena, I came across one of the frequent on-stage tributes and references to the late, great Bob Marley; the 30th anniversary of his passing being one of the festival’s twin themes, the other being the eradication of gun and knife crime from London.
Given the significance of Bob Marley within any Reggae event, especially one dedicated to his memory, it was a doubly bitter pill to swallow when I found out that his son Ky-Mani Marley wouldn’t be playing, despite featuring on flyers and pre-festival line-ups. A massive fan of his music, this was one the largest personal draws of the festival for me and an unfortunate disappointment for many that had hoped to see him. A personal message from Ky-Mani was apparently partly shown via the venues video screens, though technical errors meant it was rendered incomplete. Perhaps this could instead be screened via the internet for the disappointed fans?
Having seen a wealth of music even by mid-afternoon, I realised that a lot was from artists I wasn’t previously familiar with but I’m since grateful to have discovered. A perfect example would be Etana, who gave a brilliantly powerful set, with ‘I Am Not Afraid’ getting a particularly big response from the crowd, who clapped and cheered in unison. Further uniting those amassed after Etana’s assured performance, numerous MC’s encouraged solidarity amongst a crowd of strangers by inviting them to hold each other’s hands high in the air together as a group, which was embraced surprisingly quickly and seemed to work wonders!
As with many festivals though, it wasn’t long before sponsors reared their corporate heads; there was a lot of name-dropping and plugging over the course of the day. Certainly possessing more credibility than the average corporate tag-a-long, one of One Love Peace Festival’s frequently-referenced partners was Levi Roots, of ‘Reggae Reggae Sauce’ and ‘Dragon’s Den’ fame. Looking smart in a dapper suit, the ‘dragon slayer’ took to the stage receiving a big welcome, the warm energy from which he harnessed and used to encourage the crowd to foster their entrepreneurial spirit and slay a dragon of their own, as he did when gaining his pivotal investment on the popular TV show. He then introduced a talented group of dancers from the Starlight Music Academy in Peckham who displayed a mixture of well-choreographed dance moves, showing their skills both individually and as a group, before being joined by their 9-year-old talisman.
Whilst the day’s dancers and specialist dance troupes were very all good, a perhaps unfortunate scheduling clash saw another young dancer take to the stage very soon after the success of the previous crew. This next young dancer, Akai, blew the crowd away effortlessly, gathering a generous standing ovation before his set had even finished! Flips, spins, pops, breaks and a great deal more dazzled the arena in a set bursting with different styles of dance and music, infused with real character and even gaining quite a few laughs too! To dance as well as this young man is rare, but to entertain and charm a packed arena crowd having barely turned double-figure age is a phenomenal achievement, and one that eludes many professionals with decades more experience.
Following the great dancing was great music as veteran performer John Holt gave a terrific, feel-good show, including the classic ‘Police in Helicopter’, which he performed under the dramatic illumination of hundreds of phones and lighters held aloft in the stadium, the arena packed deep, swaying animatedly with many people waving flags in celebration of a truly great vibe.
Whilst the day had already been full of brilliant music, some of which I’d expected and some of which came in under-the-radar, by mid-afternoon it had become apparent that the scheduling of artists on the official website had been abandoned. Not only this, but also the revised schedules taped to various walls around the arena were equally inaccurate; it seems this was not only confusing for the crowd, but also the venue staff and the media team backstage, who weren’t too sure who would be available for interviews or when.
Given the lack of faith in the schedule, buying food and drink from the bars in-house became a strategic operation, as you had to arrange it so that any less-interesting acts were just starting on stage whilst you dashed off, in case your favourite would take to the stage unexpectedly whilst you were away. That the Wembley bars and cafe’s found it so difficult to cope was further frustrating, especially given the rapidly rising heat inside the arena. One ‘quick dash’ to the bar to buy two highly-overpriced bottles of water to cool me down saw me having to wait for over half an hour amongst an increasingly disgruntled mob, who whilst queuing with respectable British reserve, frayed at the edges slightly at the crazily delayed service. Equally uncomfortable the other side of the bar, stress levels seemed high amongst the staff, one member of which actually broke into tears under the relentless pressure in which they were working – clearly the infrastructure was not ready today.
Two bottles of water the richer and four pounds down, I found a familiar face making a return to the stage; Levi Roots was this time a little more informal, adopting the musical persona which fared him so well in Dragons Den, and he played an updated version of his ‘Reggae Reggae Sauce’ song from his pivotal pitch. It was a little strange to hear it performed on such a large scale, as despite being catchy and containing many of the staple reggae music ingredients (so to speak), it still felt somewhat corporate.
Levi also made various speeches over the course of the day, in which he injected an inspirational tone that will hopefully resonate with the youngsters attending, showing them that they control their own destinies and don’t have to take the rocky route of gun and knife crime. Numerous other guest speakers also took to the stage in between the music, ranging from the high-profile socially and politically, to those who specialised in hyping venues pre-performance. A big cheer was raised by His Excellency Anthony S Johnson after a stirring address highlighting the imminent Emancipation Day celebrations and the desire to eradicate street crime as we near ever closer to 50 years of Jamaican independence in 2012. It was an impressive speech, and he left the stage with a warm applause.
Whilst some performances had been beyond my musical knowledge today, one struck me as completely out of the blue further still; Jamaican stand-up comic Ping Wing. His set was a massively welcome twist, and whether or not I could understand all of the heavy accent and rapid-fire delivery, he managed to raise a big smile from myself and the house. Topping an entertaining set was a Michael Jackson impression complete with instrumental backing track, authentic MJ-style dance moves and a very dramatic collapse onto the stage as the music peaked. Just when I thought this would be the end of a very crazy few minutes, a bizarre strip ensued in which Ping Wing revealed what appeared to be a sparkly boob tube! After flinging his hat into the crowd, a big round of applause rang out for his fun, refreshing and indeed memorable performance, much to the surprise of myself and many others.
By 8:30pm, a long, hot day neared the transition into evening, and despite a happy buzz evident during the Bob Marley tribute performances, it seemed for the most part that the energy level had dipped for all; perhaps a calm before the headliners’ approaching storm.
The Abyssinians gave a cool, old-school sounding set with good energy, good interaction and an impressive bongo solo amongst other touches, all honed from decades of top experience.
Equally impacting, though of a vastly different nature, the young team from ‘Not Another Drop’ took to the stage without music and without dance, but instead with an important plea for an improvement in society, referencing the too-numerous deaths from knife and gun crime in recent years. Painful, heavy hitting and hard to digest, the mood became serious and the fun took a pause. Over the course of their speech, the repetition of “the killing has to stop” and “Not Another Drop” compounded the sentiment of their organisation, the ambition of the festival and indeed the will of the people, who whilst no longer joyous, were certainly engaged in a righteous message.
Hopefully the message will transfer and people will take notice and stop the needless damage to individuals and to society. However, having seen dozens of ‘brap brap’ gun salutes amongst the crowd over the course of the day, and even a few calls for cheers from the various regions of London from the stage which seems to encourage a divide between areas rather than unify our Capital as a whole, the irony was hard to ignore. When music and media have for so long glamorised and trivialised such crimes, especially with the ‘brap brap’ gunshot noise being used as some type of celebratory sound bite at gigs and festivals, it won’t be an easy battle for society to overcome, but one that will hopefully be achieved sooner rather than later.
Contrary to the messages of peace, with no sign of any of the festival’s headliners at 9pm, an undercurrent of discontent simmered quietly beneath the carnival veneer; I wasn’t the only one aware that the publicised 11pm curfew was looming.
Fortunately, the venue geared itself for a step up into the AAA category. With an epic introduction from DJ Scratchator, the tension was built dramatically as the crowd itched for Busta Rhymes to arrive. Given the sketchy nature of the organisation throughout the day and the extended tease of the introduction, I had my doubts as to whether his arrival might actually occur at all.
With Spliff Star arriving to the stage first, a final squeeze of expectation was wrung from the audience until Bussa Bus bounced into view with a cannonball of energy launched straight into the London crowd. Rocking the room relentlessly, he blew all his fellow musicians out of the water when it came to the electricity of performance and sheer impact on stage. The ‘Ante Up - Remix’ went down a storm, the first of many to pound the crowd with incredible stage presence, though Busta later stopped proceedings to adjust the vocal levels in his monitors, as he couldn’t hear enough of his voice. This was a sentiment I could second having had to strain to hear his vocal above the instrumental mix, a shame given his legendary tones and quick-fire flow. Once sorted, he jumped straight back into entertainment mode and played with the audience using all manner of interactions, dances, skits and even some beatbox/mime interludes from Spliff Star, which amused them both as well as the crowd.
‘Never Leave You’ was a cool trip back to my sub-6ft days, as was a brief dip into ‘Don’t Cha’ for the Pussycat Dolls generation, by way of a small detour into The White Stripes classic ‘Seven Nation Army’ rhythm. To a roaring reception, ‘I Know What You Want’ further spiked energy levels, as did ‘Touch It’, which blew the roof off with its throbbing bass. Wrapping his excellent set with a final banging anthem, Busta and Spliff sprayed champagne all over the front of the audience who screamed “JUMP! JUMP!”, whilst the photographers parted like the Red Sea to save their kit from the lashings of alcohol pumped in their direction. Mr Rhymes dialled One Love Peace Festival up a notch with a truly AAA performance that drew upon years of great tunes and live experience, setting the standard for the rest of the evening.
Following this day-changing set, Skepta and Princess Nyah each took a vastly reduced slot, with Princess Nyah by all accounts disturbed by a sound-checking musician as she played. I missed both these sets as I was backstage trying to grab a few interviews amongst a confused press area that seemed challenging for even the biggest industry players to negotiate. Chatter at Wembley and messages posted since on social media sites suggest that their small and disorganised time slots were indeed as awkward as I had been told, with both artists less than happy with the situation.
However, whilst many were annoyed with the situation with Skepta and Princess Nyah, the arrival of Sean Paul with his Travis Bickle-esque mohican haircut smoothed over the cracks, and people danced happilly through his set, though the clock was now ticking down the final hour until curfew.
Accompanied by two hypnotic female dancers that moved with incredible energy, Dutty Paul gave a solid set that hit all his big tunes and proved enjoyable, though never really matching the peaks of energy that Busta had injected into the evening previously. Fun times were had by all though; the ultimate, visual litmus test of this would be the girl in the photo pit dancing with a huge hula hoop around her waist as if she were a carefree child at a summers garden party – good vibes!
Yet, despite these good vibes from Sean Paul, I was worried that the evening may fizzle out at the point at which it should really go bang! Although leaving the stage early to make way for the evening’s final headliner, the time had already crept past 10:50pm and it seemed that were the publicised curfew adhered to, Shaggy would barely have enough time to play one full track. If that were the case it would be far from a peace festival given the growing agitation and restlessness amongst the crowd as they waited in frustration to see if their headlining act would even grace the stage at all.
Production and rigging staff scurried about the place manically, setting up all manner of instruments and equipment as quickly as possible. The clock ticked on. Then, video screens fired up with images and sounds of the headliner’s material, though he was still nowhere to be seen. It appeared to be some sort of progress, though having seen enough stalling tactics over the course of the day I was still sceptical. There are only so many ways you can window dress delays, reschedules and general logistical errors to a crowd in one day before you start to bore them or worse still, lose their trust.
It was at this low point that I heard the voice. Shaggy was in the building!
Walking onto stage calmly, his relaxed manner didn’t last long before he buckled to the music and began bounding across the stage, leaping into the air with an infectious vigour that saw him gyrating his hips in energetic arcs as swooping as Saturn’s rings. Previous grumbles seemed irrelevant as he restored energy in a crowd I felt could potentially feel cheated and tired; all was forgotten when he let rip with his trademark vocals in ‘Mr Bombastic’. Positive energy was in the house!
‘Angel’ proved another crowd favourite, easily chant-able and allowing a brief respite from the hip-gyrating and tireless performance in favour of a more chilled atmosphere. Seizing the opportunity for a ‘Twitter Moment’, Shaggy asked Wembley to raise their hands in the air, which they duly obliged, at which point he turned his back to the audience and raised his hands too as his band mate took a photo of the entire venue with their arms in the air, facing the camera, posted directly to his Twitter account. Quite a moment indeed and a fantastic photo too!
Performing past the alleged 11pm deadline, Shaggy seemed determined not to let external factors influence or detract from his own performance as he soldiered through his back-catalogue like a true professional. Great adoration was evident for his cheeky ‘It Wasn’t Me’ track, generating further energy to that stoked between tracks when Shaggy joked, told stories and generally entertained, clearly comfortable and seasoned in his role.
Whilst never quite eliciting that sheer euphoria I love so much in the most poignant live music, I really enjoyed his performance and I have a great deal of respect for his ability to hold and please a crowd, even with time and circumstances perhaps making it more difficult than he would have hoped. His phenomenal energy and effort easily justified whatever he was paid, and he ended the night on a positive note, his performance stretching out until nearly 11:20pm. The house lights were raised by this point to reveal a rapidly-emptying crowd as the inevitable Wembley rush to avoid transport gridlock took full force. However, completely undeterred, Shaggy continued to play to the hardcore fans, squeezing every last drop from the evening. His commitment to his music, his audience, and the occasion was commendable, and gave thousands of people a spring in their step as they danced their way out of Wembley Arena into the warm summer’s night.
So, how exactly should I summarise One Love Peace Festival? There was certainly enough disorganisation and disappointment to give a damning appraisal like other reviewers and individuals have posted across the internet and in print, many of which regarding the festival as ‘a joke’. However, were I to do so I would not be giving credit to the many, many great moments created by so many talented artists and performers. The frustrating teething issues cannot be ignored, but I believe to dwell on the smaller negatives would not only detract from the great positives, but also directly contradict the sentiment that so many strove to solidify today; unity, happiness and progress. If there are future events, yes, there is certainly a lot to be improved, but they can also reflect proudly upon a day’s entertainment that was home to some fine performances and vivid memories that will remain amongst London’s finest for years to come.
7 / 10
Darren Paul Thompson
Photos: Andrew Thompson
For more information, please click HERE!