The spirit of Shane MacGowan looms large over Forest Fest 2024. Pogueology, a tribute act, gets the party started on Saturday while, on a rainy Sunday night in Emo, Imelda May and Liam Ó Maonlaí perform A Rainy Night in Soho as part of Sharon Shannon’s big-band celebration of the late, great singer-songwriter and his songbook. A posthumous reprise of MacGowan’s 60th birthday party at the National Concert Hall crossed with his funeral Mass, an array of stars pack the stage like a display of the Northern Lights.
Cait O’Riordan sings A Man You Don’t Meet Every Day and Streets of London while an unrestrained Camille O’Sullivan ad-libs that MacGowan was “the measure of our dreams”. A massed rendition of Fairytale of New York, complete with Mundy and Jack L, and an exuberant rendition of Fiesta send the masses home happy. The singers are front and centre, but the musicianship of Shannon on accordion, Gerry O’Connor on banjo and Richie Buckley on saxophone raise them up.
Stereo MCs headline the main stage, but The Human League before them capture the imagination, the fabulously costumed Phil Oakey belying his advancing years – “I’m actually older than Joe Biden,” he cracks – scampering from one side of the wide stage to the other as he delivers classic hits such as Love Action, Fascination and Don’t You Want Me backed by synth players, whose instruments now look more quaint than futuristic, and a very 1980s video backdrop. Even his shtick is retro. “It’s great to be back in Éire,” he tells the crowd, who politely don’t correct him. At this rate Oakey won’t be stepping down any time soon.
Nor will the disgracefully ageless Buster Bloodvessel, of Bad Manners, whose irresistibly danceable ska set the weather cannot dampen. “This song always brings the sun out,” he says, introducing Walking in the Sunshine, “but we might have trouble today.” Sure enough, with the weather gods provoked, the crowd are soon donning plastic ponchos in the Irish equivalent of a Mexican wave. “See you next year. It’ll be our 50th anniversary,” is Buster’s parting shot.
The poignancy of nostalgia is present too in Nick Kelly’s dedication of Dronning Maud Land to his late mother, whose favourite song it was. “When we first played festivals we all had parents but not kids,” The Fat Lady Sings’ frontman says. A beautiful, wistful rendition of Twist is a reminder that Arclight is not their only great song.
Friday night’s proceedings feel more like a trip to Tipp than Laois as The Stunning play the main stage, while the Village tent is packed for Something Happens, whose singer Tom Dunne is in effervescent form. “We think we invented the ironic cover version, he says to introduce their take on Madonna’s Borderline. “We should have copyrighted it.” It is a highlight of a highly entertaining set. He mentions seeing a fan earlier with walking sticks – and with that two crutches are waved aloft, no doubt instigating a social-welfare-payments investigation. Dunne introduces a slower number as a “catch-your-breath one” and reminisces about supporting The Mission, who unsupportively used Something Happens’ tour-dates leaflets as confetti during their set. But the forest of arms waving during Hello Hello Hello Hello Hello (Petrol) is proof that the self-deprecating band have a lot to be proud of.
“This is our third year here. It feels like a residency,” Dunne says. Unlike the rain, they will be welcome back next year.
Having seen Dexys at 3Olympia in Dublin last autumn, I wondered whether they would deliver such an outstanding performance at a festival. They do. It helps that Forest Fest sets are a generous length, at more than an hour, so they don’t just trot out the greatest hits, such as Jackie Wilson Said, Geno and Come on Eileen. “Anyone here from Mayo?” the dapperly dressed Kevin Rowland asks, in a nod to his roots. “Mayo, God help us,” he says with a smile.
The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon, similarly smartly suited and booted, affects a debonair, slightly louche air, getting his wine glass topped up for the frog in his throat, smoking a cigarette for another song, “just because I can”. His nonchalance is tested by the sound from the Ibiza stage, however. “They’re having a disco. We will too.” Criticising the crowd for clapping off the beat is less charming, however. He gets a note during National Express – no one is perfect – and has to cut it short to beat his curfew, seguing into Tonight We Fly to finish on a high.
Ash close out Friday night, rocking out with a pulsating set – Girl from Mars, Jackie Chan, Burn Baby Burn – to send everyone, including themselves, home sweating.
Saturday highlights include solid sets from Glasvegas and EMF. “Have you got one last dance in you, you dirty ravers?” asks EMF lead singer James Atkin. Indeed they do. The lead singer of Harvest, a Neil Young cover band, can’t stop smiling at the audience’s mutual love for the artist.
“Is it true that Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland?” asks The Cult’s singer, Ian Astbury. “Well, they are coming back,” he says, pointing to the band’s logo. His distinctive, sonorous voice demands attention, delivering anthems such as Spiritwalker and She Sells Sanctuary. There is a moment of controversy when Billy Duffy, the band’s guitarist, who says his roots are Irish and Jewish, takes the microphone to take issue with audience members waving the Palestinian flag, whom he accuses of being self-aggrandising. Some boo and make obscene gestures. Others show their support, or at least sympathy, for Duffy. “Don’t impeach free speech,” says Astbury, backing his colleague.
HamsandwicH deliver a brilliant set, whose highlights included Ants and a fabulous cover of I Feel Love, to close out Saturday night. The band’s lead singer, Niamh Farrell, is drinking margaritas from a sippy cup. It’s blended pizza, jokes guitarist Podge McNamee. Last time I saw them at a festival, Groove, they were necking Buckfast from a bottle. It seems to work.
