Neon Lights 2019 Review: A Flickering Spectacle That Left Many Punters Miffed

Neon Lights was not without its struggles, to say the least (Credit: Neon Lights)

Like any large-scale festival, there was a heap of expectations riding on Neon Lights. Launched in 2015, the Fort Canning festival had a credible track record of annual extravaganzas (save for a breather in 2017), having brought down indie champs like Interpol and Sigur Rós which garnered a receptive stream of positive takeaways – I count myself a fan. And as one of a handful of international indie-oriented events, such as Garden Beats and the upcoming Alex Blake Charlie Sessions, Neon Lights has carried the torch for trend-setting entertainment on the island, being an advocate of both music and arts. Swelling magnitude, however, inevitably draws greater scrutiny, and Neon Lights this year was not spared.

7,000 fans showed up for the first day of Neon lights regardless (Credit: Neon Lights)

The vitriol began to spread online even before the festival commenced, due to a high-profile pullout announced just days before the event. Pop starlet, Halsey, was no longer on the bill, to the dissatisfaction of punters local and abroad who furiously demanded a refund. In Neon Lights’ attempt to rectify the upset albeit in a non-transparent way – the “unforeseen circumstances” card was played – it revealed a refund option as well as replacements, Hot Dub Time Machine and one G Flip. In a nutshell, this did not pacify the situation one bit.

I confess that I have heard of neither of these acts, and from the ensuing salvo of further criticism on their social media channels, I was not alone. With that said, my stance on festivals has always been one that embraces discovery; if you don’t know the acts, go out there and explore. I gave G Flip a listen, and although I can’t say her sound’s my cup of tea, it isn’t horrendous. Certainly, not horrendous enough to receive the online flak she got from angry Halsey fans and trolls. While other commenters helped put out the fire, all of this revealed a bitter side to the nature of fans’ demands. Neon Lights took a hit from this, and as the festival eventually got on the way, it would prove to be not the only blow.

Despite fears of storms on Day One, the festival was only pattered by slight drizzles that died after five in the afternoon. A snaking queue plodded towards the gated entrance leading into Fort Canning Green, as standard security checks were conducted. With my RFID wristband already issued, getting in after was a breeze – at least, it was in my case.

A putting course near the food booths (Credit: Neon Lights)

Before I address the fiasco at hand, I must say that, like years prior, Neon Lights did a fantastic job turning the historical park into a vibrant festival ground filled with captivating structures, flashy paraphernalia and sectioned zones catering to the myriad of entertainment – from the Main Stage to the DJ-centric Bandstand tent, and even a hidden section called The Haven for the kiddos (a shout-out to Captain Dazzle the clown magician).

Little did I realise that while I was watching the smooth, soul-tinged pop of HONNE – one of the biggest names of the festival – there was a massive hold-up at the entrance that ruined the festival experience for many. A scanning error of the RFID wristbands left hordes of fans stranded in the queue outside for two hours, making them miss HONNE completely. With a lack of communication and unruly queue control, it sparked off more condemnation to an already bruised event, with some taking to Neon Lights’ Instagram page to vent their frustrations; #FyreFestival was mentioned on several instances.

Neon Lights’ explanation of the delays would only come a day later, but it’d prove to be too late for the frustrated punters who were left in the dark. By 7.30pm, it was announced that the queue debacle had finally been solved, and punters were scurrying into the festival just in time for Mumford & Sons.

The British folk-rock outfit didn’t disappoint one bit for their long-awaited debut in Singapore, pounding out anthem after anthem – such as “The Cave” and “Below My Feet” – that breathed new life into the dampened spirits of many. The enlivened band also revealed that this gig was a homecoming for bassist, Ted Dwane, who had grown up in Singapore in his teenage years; a remark that drew huge cheers. As the band ended their vivacious set with crowd-pleasing closer, “I Will Wait”, with everyone belting along at the top of their lungs, it was evident that they are truly one of the mightiest bands in the world, banjos and harmonies and all.

On the electronic front, there was also plenty to witness at both stages. The Bandstand hosted local selectors like the versatile Aalely, who ushered in the otherworldly Aliens Of Manila with his baiting beats; and industry veteran, Ramesh, who threw on Afro textures and house classics like “Strings Of Life”.

The Bandstand was closed by Silent Disco Asia, what I dub the quietest party phenomenon in the scene, that roused the headphone-donning audience with guilty pleaures from Queen, Chumbawamba, Bon Jovi and the like. Mura Masa was tasked with wrapping up the Main Stage on Day One, and he had the crowd grooving with dem bow rhythms and future bassy synth swells, topping it off with live guitars and a guest vocalist.

Even with all the malfunctions that plagued the event, Neon Lights still managed to attract a sell-out crowd of 7,000 punters on Day One. But with the sour taste it left in the mouths of many, coupled with the Halsey no-show, Day Two would end up drawing a perceivably slimmer and listless crowd.

That isn’t to say that Day Two didn't have its fair share of highlights, now more accessible with the queue scanning problems out of the way. BADBADNOTGOOD made their return with their signature jazz-inflected momentum, cruising with free-flowing swagger. Gus Dapperton made hearts flutter with his boyish, animated presence, prancing and skanking on stage like a freshman at a frat party; rough-around-the-edges showmanship that you can’t take your eyes off. And by The Bandstand, Fleetmac Wood served reworked 4/4 interpretations of Fleetwood Mac classics, immersing the older audience in a wave of nostalgia.

But there were some notable duds, in my view. Already blemished with a late start, Clean Bandit’s DJ set was a vapid showcase of dated EDM tracks and pop flops; although the crowd did eat up their most famous number, “Rather Be”. Hot Dub Time Machine didn’t impress me either, with a ‘conceptual’ set that purported to take revellers on a journey of party music through the decades. What this meant was a predictable, pre-programmed set stuffed with synced visuals and bite-sized guilty pleasures from disco to EDM. As someone who much prefers a seamless set without someone emceeing between every transition, I was not amused.

Fleeing to the Main Stage, I found comfort in the wild theatrics of Norwegian breakout indie sensation, AURORA. Armed to the teeth with a formidable backing band, she commanded the stage with dauntless maturity and feel-good messages like “believing in yourself”. A twirl here, an animalistic squeal there, and an overall bewitching persona that would entrance even the most jaded of spectators. Shame, then, that the sound got cut off during “Running With The Wolves”, one of her most renowned songs that should’ve been a euphoric moment. But instead of unforgiving jeers, the emotionally-invested crowd kept AURORA afloat as they sang along acapella to drown out the silence. It was one of the festival’s most powerful scenes that got AURORA a lil’ choked up.

Nick Murphy FKA Chet Faker (Credit: Neon Lights)

This strong connection between performer and audience was lost, however, on Nick Murphy FKA Chet Faker. Marred by more sound issues on the Main Stage, Murphy was forced to come on late to a restless crowd. And when he finally did, the seasoned solo performer shocked everyone by doing a mere four songs – ending with a stripped-down rendition of “Talk Is Cheap” – and walked off stage abruptly 15 minutes before he was scheduled to finish. As you might expect, bitter trails of “booos” quickly emanated from the crowd, with some yelling for refunds. Murphy would eventually respond on social media that he was remorseful, and that he couldn’t deliver the performance he intended due to power outages that kept crashing his equipment. But to walk off without explaining or saying bye? Murphy could’ve handled it more professionally.

Now imagine being in G Flip’s shoes. You’re getting unwarranted criticism for being a last-minute Halsey replacement, not many people know who you are, you’re set to come on after that disastrous Nick Murphy showing, and you’re facing a fuming crowd upset with the numerous festival follies. To any performer, all of this would be nightmare fuel.

But instead, G Flip handled all of this superbly. Unperturbed and on a mission, G Flip came on early (a smart move by the organisers) to shift things back into full gear. With a backing band of her own, the Australian newbie made her entrance in a big way, showcasing all-rounded prowess as a vocalist and multi-instrumentalist, even on the drums. I would even label her the dark horse of the festival, as she lured punters back to a thinned-out Main Stage, demonstrating that she was worthy of her closing slot. I do not doubt that she gained lots of new fans that evening, with that courageous resilience of hers.

Will Neon Lights do better next year? (Credit: Neon Lights)

There were triumphant moments at Neon Lights for sure, from the historic Mumford & Sons debut to the unwavering support of local acts like Disco Hue and Ice Cream Sundays. But negativity does weigh heavier in the collective psyche of punters. And with jarring flaws like the queue system, lineup changes and sound issues – especially since this isn’t Neon Lights’ first rodeo – the contempt it’s getting from the public is justified.

If Neon Lights hopes to shine bright in 2020, it needs to get its act together for its fans.

For more information on Neon Lights, visit its official website.