Cosby Stage, Saturday 6th, 7.45pm



For years now, Erlend Oye has been operating at the fringes of the mainstream music world, shifting shapes and sheding skins with seemingly reckless abandon. From the acoustic melodies and harmonies of Kings of Convenience, to the retro-tronica of his debut solo album, Oye brings a sense of playful eclecticism to everything he does, no more so than in his latest project - Whitest Boy Alive.



Essentially a variant of the dancable, sad indie purveyed by New Order in the early eighties, Oye fuses desolate, twangy guitar-lines to sub-funk basslines, whilst the rhythm carries it on relentlessly. Oye's detatched vocals hover in the centre, creating a sense of isolation, albeit with a dance beat. It's curiously affecting, funk music for people who don't like funk. All the while Oye manages to embody the spirit of the festival by simultaneously being too cool for school, and impossibly geeky, throwing awkward dance shapes, and then re-adjusting his glasses. And strikingly, the Cosby Stage is completely packed, with the security staff actually turning people away.



At various points during the set, Oye incorporates other songs, draping an Irish flag over his head and singing 'All I Want Is You' by U2. It's a calculated gesture, something unashamedly showbiz, and the crowd lap up every second of it. It's testament to Oye's confidence at a performer that he has the crowd completly captivated by him by doing little more than throwing his arms about, and crooning about being a bit sad. In many respects, the sound of Whitest Boy Alive veers dangerously towards anonymous, worryingly bland cod-funk for indie kids, but somehow they manage to keep it on the right side of compelling. Back in the olden days, they used to describe this as 'beige', and ATL overheard one punter comparing it to Level 42, but it's an unfair criticism, with the majority of the crowd completly in synch with the performance.



After years of existing under the radar, it's time for Oye to step up and take his place as a bonafide pop star. Surveying the crowd, it appears there are more than a few people who would agree.



Describe in a tweet: Skinny indie boy gets his groove thang on - revellers approve.



Good Vibrations: After every moment of shaking his bootay, Oye readjusts his glasses, like a funky librarian.



Life's a beach: Whilst the crowd loved Oye posing with the Irish flag, this writer thought it was skin-crawlingly cringy. Different strokes for different folks, I guess...



EP Rating: 7/10