James Murphy and co. took on Victoria Park with the help of a stellar line-up.

All Points East is known for its stellar lineups, but even for the London-based festival’s usual standards, LCD Soundsystem’s day of residency outdoes itself. The critically-acclaimed electronic veterans are joined by alt-rock icons Pixies, MySpace cult hero Jai Paul, effervescent art-ravers Jockstrap and many more in Victoria Park for an event full of guitar-music triumphs and electronic ecstasies.

The eclectic lineup really feels like a culmination of LCD Soundsystem’s career-long fascination with merging rock with dance, a combination owing back to their shameless influences from David Bowie, Brian Eno, Talking Heads, New Order and Kraftwerk. The festival certainly promises to be something fit for both rave-head shuffling and angsty mosh-pitting.

Imagine if Men I Trust went on an 80s goth spree. That’s probably the best way to summarise NewDad, an alternative four-piece who have been quickly developing a cult following of angsty devotees. The aforementioned Canadian trio’s whispery bedroom pop is here in full force, but made darker, murkier: more The Cure’s Pornography than Wish. 

Reference points put aside, NewDad perform a tight-knit set of back-to-back favourites, mostly taken from the group’s stellar 2024 debut album MADRA. As I race from NewDad to Nation Of Language, I hear an audience member say, “I don’t want to sound harsh… but I don’t think they’re going to be remembered”. Personally, I’m in two minds. Let’s see what they do next before we lump them in with the artists making the most of Wolf Alice’s frustratingly long unofficial hiatus. 

I arrive at the West Stage as Nation Of Language play September Again — a tingling piece of back-to-campus synth-pop perfection. I’ve been a fan of the Brooklyn-based trio ever since I heard I’ve Thought About Chicago back in 2017. They sounded like New Order wannabes. I instantly had a soft spot for them. 

It’s a pleasure to report that Nation Of Language keep up their throw-back appeal in 2024. Most acts would be ripped to pieces for such shameless reliance on nostalgia, cultural kitsch and stolen synth lines but Nation Of Language inexplicably manage to pull it off without feeling cheap. Really, it’s kind of a miracle. The trio continue to reach heavenly heights with recent cuts such as Weak In Your Light. 

I’ve gushed over Jockstrap numerous times at this point. They’re a bizarre outfit — irritatingly hard to understand, let alone summarise. Just when you think you can pigeonhole them, they do something that shatters your whole perception of genre as a whole. Hyper-pop, dance-rock, acid-dance, folk-dance, arthouse electronica… whatever they are, they are simply the best at it.

Jockstrap tend to be at home in darkened independent venues, sticky club-floors and beacons of techno lighting cutting through shadow. Floor-fillers like 50/50 or Good Girl practically live amongst the hedonism and excess that a dirty dance floor is made for. At All Points East, however, the duo proves that they can sparkle just fine in the middle of the afternoon. Concrete Over Water does its usual cartwheels, proving orchestral interludes can settle in nicely beside bass drops. Greatest Hits has its listeners boogieing in the London sun, now oblivious to the over-priced round of drinks that they were angry about a few minutes prior.

The duo ride on a pulse of genre-defying bliss. And, just when I think I know how to describe them for this piece, vocalist/violinist/guitarist Georgia Ellery walks out onto stage for the final number strapped into a pair of huge, Transformer-like legs. Because, why not? I’ve given up trying to define them: they’re wonderfully impossible. 

The sun hides behind the clouds, and it’s almost ready for the main event. But, before that, comes an act that, at any other party, would be the undisputed superstars. Of course, I’m talking about the seminal Pixies. Led by eccentric singer Black Francis, the proto-grunge legends waste no time in getting the crowd moving, launching straight into Doolittle cut Gouge Away.

The following fifty minutes is a flurried joyride, brimming with cult classics. Here Comes Your Man, Wave Of Mutilation, Hey, Velouria, Where Is My Mind? — it’s all here. It goes by so quickly that I hardly have time to process that this is, really, the Pixies. Monkey Gone To Heaven rings out with the all-ironic urgency of a climate change warning written decades before the general population started to even consider it a genuine threat (well, either that or an urban apocalypse sent from a vengeful God — whatever floats your belief system boat).

As the capuchin guitar solo reels itself towards the sky, I remember when my Dad sat me down to show me a bunch of ‘must-listen’ bands on YouTube: The Velvet Underground, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Pixies. It even comes strangely full circle for me when Pixies play a rip-roaring, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cover of Head On by The Jesus and Mary Chain. I guess Black Francis and Co. just knew.

After quickly consuming a vegan burger from a nearby food stall (apologies to Jai Paul and The Kills for prioritising festival sustenance), I’m surrounded by a crowd starting to buzz with a hum of expectation towards the East Stage. It’s now dark: a disco is brewing with 45,000 in attendance.

Let’s face it — it’d be easy to say that LCD Soundsystem should have called it quits for good after their climactic The Long Goodbye farewell concert in 2014. It was the perfect rock ’n’ roll ending. The then-44-year-old James Murphy had an astonishingly consistent trilogy of critically acclaimed dance-rock albums under his belt, and his long-dreamed-of ambition of becoming a legend of indie electronica had at last come true. The Long Goodbye was the sound of a group, rather than awkwardly giving up the ghost, going out with a dignified, synthesiser-drenched bang.

But, when Bowie of all people says that it’s okay to reform, then it’s okay to reform. And that’s what the late rock icon allegedly told James Murphy just months before his passing. Three years after The Long Goodbye, LCD Soundsystem reformed with a fourth record every bit as good as their original trilogy (The Phantom Menace this was not). James Murphy’s motley crew still had fire in their bellies. Headlining All Points East, LCD Soundsystem prove once again that they are a band capable of bowing out and stepping back into the ring, with dignity.

The crowd pack together like bees in a hive as Murphy and Co. begin their set with ‘Us vs Them’ - perhaps a vaguely ironic choice considering how tens of thousands of fans have come together to celebrate a shared hero. The machines are fired up: the synthesisers begin to tweet, the drums begin to gallop, and the bass begins to chug away with hypnotic allure. The enthusiasm continues to pulsate into You Wanted A Hit (LCD Soundsystem’s seven-minute disco equivalent of The Smiths’ Frankly, Mr Shankly or Paint A Vulgar Picture). Murphy makes clear this is going to be a setlist on his terms, polarising between the radio-friendly pop maverick and the disgruntled, middle-aged punk: “But maybe we don’t do hits…”.

Bass-led anticipation grows as the headliners continue into post-comeback track tonite — a brewing concoction of electronic expectancy. The rhythm section chugs away like a well-oiled machine, enticing the audience to move between each other like cogs in Murphy’s grand contraption. The synth-bass tone is thick and treacly, leading right into the sleazy scuffle of Tribulations. This is angst you can dance to: a 7” single that indie kids and rave-heads alike can both neatly tuck away in their vinyl racks. All Points East is simply ecstatic. 

But it isn’t all disco-diva-dancing when it comes to LCD Soundsystem. That’d be too easy. The group also find time for a healthy amount of introspection and tenderness in between cuts of post-punk-funk. Tribulations fades away into something else entirely, as the bass line of oh baby bubbles across the park. It’s a sugary moment of slowness — somewhere between despair and seduction. As Murphy calls out to the crowd, “oh baby, you’re having a bad dream, here in my arms”, he’s met with a subdued swaying. We sing along to the gospel-meets-synth-pop refrains, the vocal long since over. Like the “oh, my baby…” section of Blur’s Tender, it’s a unifying career highlight for the New York group.

Other reflective highlights include New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down and an emotional rendition of Someone Great, dedicated to late collaborator Justin Chearno. Murphy appears visibly bruised as he informs the crowd of the recent passing, “He passed away just a couple of days ago… thank you for being here and supporting us… we’re doing our best to get through for you”. The performance is, justifiably, wounded and wavering (“I miss the way we used to argue…”). Murphy’s mournful masterpiece ends with a snippet of New Order’s Your Silent Face, connecting the dots of coy, bittersweet synth-pop decades apart. Time merges; lives are lived and shed. 

Murphy’s misfit gang power through the hurt — they don’t let it stop them from throwing one hell of a party, which deserves enormous kudos in itself. The two-hour set seems to evaporate into the night air, each track moving faster and faster until we reach a conclusion that surely can’t live up to the brewing emotions of the past 120 minutes. However, this is LCD Soundsystem, and they just so happen to have written the song All My Friends. It all leads to this: the glittering, nervous piano kickstarts the rush of emotions, joined slowly by the grounding rhythm section. It’s one of those truly great songs. It’s a career-defining track that lives in the hearts and minds of its listeners, and turns a mild London night into something transcendent.

The lyrics are etched onto each and every audience member’s psyche, whether it’s the memories of heyday hedonism (“If the sun comes up, and I still don’t want wanna stagger home…”), the pains of regretted life decisions (You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan, and the next five years trying to be with your friends again), or the indignant vindication of your past self’s actions — the ones that made you the person you are today (“I wouldn’t trade one stupid decision for another five years of life…”). It’s a climactic moment where nostalgia, regret, excitement and longing meet. The East Stage crowd closed the night on one last dry-throated refrain (“If I could see all my friends tonight…”) before stumbling away from the stage in tired catharsis.

You know it’s been a great day at a festival when you feel a little bit sad that it’s over. LCD Soundsystem’s day at All Points East 2024 has regretfully come to a close, but not without its fair share of highs and discoveries. The crowd wander from the festival ground into the streets, synth-bass still grooving away in their heads. And, anyway, it’s all okay. We’ll remember the night. To paraphrase All My Friends, we can always come back to this. 

We’ll see you next year. And, if you missed out on All Points East merch, grab yours here.

All photos by Isla Kerr.