Pitchfork Paris 2016 review: Plenty of high points despite a disappointing lack of French electronic acts

(Alban Gendrot/Pitchfork)

At the Grande Halle de la Villette - which used to be the most sophisticated abattoir in Europe - crowds gather at one of two stages set at either end of the looming hall with its glass and iron facade.

Ryan Schreiber, who founded Pitchfork in 1995, said a few years ago that he thought people who go to Pitchfork Festival are part of an international community.

Yet you'll hear few English voices: sources suggest attendance from the UK audience is down, and the crowd does seem to be largely made up of Parisians (a few who grumble at the 54€ day tickets).

The trouble with it being a Pitchfork festival is that the crowd are by default hard-to-please; it’s more stand, lean back and appraise than let loose and dance the night away.

Unexpectedly, prices are steep for food and drink: A pint of Heineken is an eye-watering 7€, while a galette-saucisse (a sausage wrapped in a crepe)- although delicious - is equally pricey.

There are still plenty of high points. New York garage-rock band Parquet Courts open one of the first and best sets just after 6pm; Todd Terje & the Olsens deliver a glittering performance - one of the few that actually gets people moving.

Canadian rock band Suuns bring in the dark side of psychedelia; misleading the listener with their fragmented grooves and wailing crescendos that build and build into an almost-unbearable tension.

Ironically, there is a distinct lack of French acts at this year’s festival, and it’s hard not to wonder why artists from the country’s blossoming electronic scene aren't present.

Posters for superstar producer Fakear, who would have been a welcome replacement for DJ Shadow, are plastered around the city, and any one of his contemporaries - Superpoze, Dream Koala, or the newly emerging s a r a s a r a - would have fitted right in as well.

Flavien Berger, the only French act on the billing, is tucked in between Berlin group Brandt Brauer Frick and an indulgent set from Explosions In The Sky; elaborate lighting and plenty of smoke accompanies their expansive, overstated epics that often feature on slow-motion montages of race cars.

But what's important is that this festival is on at all. Just weeks ahead of the one year anniversary of the Bataclan massacre, the city, whilst always full of life, feels tense. But people are still going to see live music, still dance and drink. And that matters.