Heading up the release of the second Soleil mixtape on July 1st, Kitsuné superfans and hordes of others flock to Shoreditch’s Village Underground to party like it’s been warmer than 15 degrees all day.
Yeah, okay, the idea of a summer party in the UK right now seems a little painful, but sometimes it’s fun to pretend, right? The rain may be spitting down outside, but everyone in the crowd is ready to close their eyes and think of Corsica.
In Kitsuné's case, you can be certain of a few things: their mixtapes will get your feet twitching (at the very least), they will provide the perfect soundtrack to the summer months and - most importantly - they know how to throw a bloody good party.
A table stacked high with stickers and badges greets ticketholders, mischievously inviting the peppering of the now iconic Kitsuné fox on every available surface. The venue staff will have fun hunting these down for weeks to come. It’s still early and the room looks a bit like an awkward school disco. But not for long.
Hipster favourites Punks Jump Up ease the crowd into the night, chased up by Hype Machine chart-topper Pyramid. Throughout the two opening sets the floor gradually fills up, people get dancing and the night starts to take shape.
Headliner Lindstrøm steps up to the decks and drops an absolute blinder of a set, pumping seriously fresh vibes through the now tightly-packed and happily perspiring bodies. As the Norwegian finishes up his set, tech geeks that had been intently staring at his every move on the decks reach up to shake hands with the man who got the night into full swing.
Only two true veterans could follow such a set. Cue Gildas and Jerry Bouthier. Gildas takes to the stage first, quietly yet supremely confidently showing the experience gathered from over 10 years' work at Kitsuné.
Then comes the hat. That hat. Bouthier’s set crams unbelievable energy levels onto the small stage, sending shocks rippling out through the crowd as he leaps off the mixing desk and pulls samples from Yeah Yeah Yeahs right through to old-school Daft Punk.
LA duo Classixx round up the night, much to the Instagram-happy crowd’s excitement, and keep the room bouncing right through to 4am.
On leaving the venue, it’s impossible to deny the slight disappointment at stepping out onto a vaguely windswept Great Eastern Street. Ah well, it’s probably time to stop pretending anyway.
Words and photos: Liz Seabrook
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