I, like many, was anxiously refreshing the Tramlines twitter page on the 10th November, desperate to see the line-up for the 2022 festival. Could they somehow manage the seemingly impossible task of topping acts like The Kooks, Blossoms and Royal Blood welcoming in the first festival of the post-covid era last summer? Could they top the magnificent range of performances, from Sundara’s electric set at t’Other Stage, to Dizzee Rascal (and a special appearance by Tramlines Security) performing Bassline Junkie? Who could compete with Mike Skinner popping champagne and toasting to the new post-pandemic freedom?
The short answer? No one.
Or, at least, that is apparently what the organisers of the Tramlines festival decided when they booked this year’s performers.
My mind was taken with two big questions when I finally saw the line-up. ‘is this a joke?’, ‘no, really, is this a joke?’. I mean, come on. For Friday we have gone from Mike Skinner to Sam Fender? Sam Fender, a performer so bland that ‘vanilla indie’ genuinely might be an exaggeration of his talents. How on earth is he headlining over James? Tim Booth could spend 3 minutes and 42 seconds screaming sweet nothings into a feedback-ridden microphone, and I would still regard it as a far more interesting piece of music than anything found on Seventeen Going Under. The only thing that album is going under is the radar of any self-respecting music lover. The only interesting piece of commentary it has is to highlight the irony of the (supposedly) left-wing singer’s recent support for an ultra-conservative regime’s takeover of his football club.
I also have to reluctantly mention the band-from-Leicester-shaped-elephant in the room. Kasabian are probably the best verbalisation of the “separate the art from the artist” argument. Justifiably without their lead singer, the band seem to be half-heartedly trundling on, performing their tainted songs to crowds who aren’t quite sure what to make of a group who clearly should have thrown in the towel quite some time ago.
The choice of the first two headliners demonstrates all that is wrong with Tramlines, not just this year, but in general. Tramlines used to be free, it used to be a venue-based festival centred around Sheffield itself. The festival was intrinsically tied to the cultural identity of Sheffield and its music scene. It encouraged venues to open their doors, it encouraged and supported local bands, and most importantly it encouraged the natives of the city to experience the new and interesting acts sprouting up in their backyard. It was grounded in the spirit of Sheffield, an ode to the musical culture of the city which produced bands like the Human League, Pulp and Arctic Monkeys. These days, you’re paying £70 to go see primarily well-established and somewhat naff, non-Yorkshire bands play in a park well outside the city centre. The only community spirit you feel is the absolute contempt everyone has for themselves for willingly handing over £7 for a lukewarm, dented can of Red Stripe which they’ll probably drop, half-finished, in a mosh-pit.
Is this upcoming Tramlines a total disaster? Certainly not. In fact, there are some absolute gems there. Madness will forever be a classic hit, and the Everly Pregnant Brothers will always provide great entertainment. There are some great Sheffield acts on there, such as Self Esteem and Sheafs, and even some great bands from Yorkshire as a whole, like Working Men’s Club.
However, the undeniable truth about this line-up, and, in my opinion, it’s biggest crime, is that it is just so ‘meh’.
Even if you have to accept that Sam Fender is a quite good performer (if you like that sort of thing)- the issue is Tramlines could be so much more.
Will you have an alright time at Tramlines next summer? Probably. So far, all the acts are, at the very least, harmless. And when you’re there with your mates getting hammered on ridiculously priced alcohol and dancing without embarrassment, the world will seem like a slightly better place, and I doubt you’ll be thinking of an article in Forge from a few months ago.
But when it comes to music, I think there is something deeply depressing about just being alright. It seems Tramlines is doing everything in its power to avoid having anything to do with the Sheffield music scene. Clearly, cash reigns supreme over culture.
My suggestion? Don’t bother with Tramlines. Go to the Fringe events instead. See a small band like Femur or Dead Slow Hoot at the Washington. Get drunk and listen to the DJ at the Devonshire Green Chippy.
Tramlines isn’t bad, it’s just boring, and if you want boring, you may as well head to a festival with better headliners than Sam-bloody-Fender.
