The organisers of 2007’s Farmleigh Affair have more reason than most to be peeved at this summer’s absurdly schizophrenic weather. Sunday’s event was cancelled due to heavy rainfall, leaving us with just one day of music to enjoy, on August Bank Holiday Monday.
Which might have been enough, had that afternoon not been severely hindered (weather-wise) as well. Brief patches of sunlight only served to raise audience spirits, before the inevitable arrival of thunder, lightning and semi-monsoon showers.
The hit-and-miss nature of the conditions was reflected in the quality of the live music. Proceedings began a little shakily, with a vaguely dislikeable set from vocal group The Spooky Men’s Chorale, who, for all their technical accomplishment, carry a nasty whiff of cheesy opportunism. It’s all well and good pushing merchandise sales and passing mailing list sign-up’s into the audience, but if you’re also trying to build a rep as raw, rural, Blue Mountain-dwelling eccentrics, the marketing drive may turn people off.
Things pick up onstage with a far sprightlier performance from Ivory Coast native Dobet Gnahore, so naturally, the weather must take a sharp downward turn. But let’s not dwell on the negative: the African songstress delivers an energetic set, full of light rhythmic touches and sweet melody, and she is at least treated to a short burst of sunshine towards the end of her show, though being from the Ivory Coast, she’s probably used to it.
This is a free event, and is therefore attended by a large number of families and casual observers – so the onstage happenings are allowed to blend into the background, in a way they might not at a “proper” gig. Damian Dempsey’s set is the exception to this rule, as his vague “local hero” status ensures a more attentive response from the crowd. Problem is, his penchant for naff cod-reggae and silly social commentary (most obviously on the exceedingly daft anti-colonialism rant ‘Colony’) ensures that he has precious little worth paying attention to.
Proceedings finish on a much stronger note, with an exuberant set from Macedonia’s finest brass ensemble, the Kocani Orkestar. The weather has, by now, reached a (negative) point of no return, and the venue is almost entirely abandoned, but the breezy optimism of the music renders all cynicism irrelevant; a pleasing note on which to conclude a wildly frustrating weekend.