In The Meadows – 07/06/25 – Festival Review

In the Meadows – 07/06/25 at the Irish Museum of Modern Art, Royal Hospital Kilmainham

After the resounding success of last year’s inaugural In The Meadows festival, headlined by Lankum, this year’s festival had a very different feel to it.  The sun was decidedly absent for a start, and the headliner, Iggy Pop, is more of an established legend than an up-and-coming artist having their moment.

Mancunian punk-poet John Cooper Clarke opened the festival with a set of equal parts comedy and poetry recital.  He made a few cracks about how he was asked to write some lines for an insurance company and delivered some of his more recognisable material, Beasley St, before bringing the house (tent?) down with Evidently Chickentown.

After this, Billy Nomates appeared with some heavy disco songs, pounding versions of blue bones and The Test, creating a handbag Depeche Mode effect.  Mention also to Really Good Time, tearing about the ‘In the Middle Stage’ with a good old racket, and Polish band Trupa Trupa’s shouty electro-rock.  First up at the main ‘East Stage’ was Muireann Bradley.  Without doubt, a talented guitarist, but a little lost on the vast stage, they could have done with turning her up.  Her bluesy tunes conjured up a relaxed mood with renditions of Mississippi John Hurt’s Richland Woman Blues, Bob Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright (which had people swaying happily), along with her own Shake Sugaree.

Sprints were the first band to truly own the stage. Karla Chubb is a proper frontwoman, with a voice equal parts commanding and paint-stripping.  The band is powerful live, and they played a raucous set, featuring new and older songs that culminated in “Literary Mind.”  With such a strong lineup, hard choices had to be made, and the temptation was to catch a little bit of as many acts as possible.  Meryl Streek played a set of visceral punk rock, accompanied by a drummer and some recorded sound, Streek launched himself back and forth across the stage with a bunch of red roses and strange green contact lenses, playing Fine Jail and Bertie (“now he wants to be president, yeah… fucking riggghtt!”).

Gilla Band created a fearsome noise with the focus on uncategorisable screaming frontman Dara Kiely, a compelling presence using two microphones.  Post Ryan was accompanied by machine gun style, staccato drumming, with the singer roaring “I’m in recovery”.  Their set was pretty much mosh central, culminating in a rousing version of Eight Fivers.  We checked in with The Scratch in time to catch their cover of Christy Moore’s Joxer Goes To Stuttgart and a rocked-up McAlpines Fusiliers, and their trad-punk tunes got the crowd going, especially once they reached Another Round.

It was time for something of a breather, and Slowdive didn’t quite provide that, but something else entirely.  A belting, immersive set, featuring a rocked-up Crazy For You and Souvlaki Space Station over trippy visuals.  It seemed like the band might be a fish out of water with all the full-on punkers, but muscular versions of Kisses, Alison and When The Sun Hits were just what was required before the main act: immersive tunes to get lost in.  The band has got a new lease of life since reforming, and a delighted crowd risked missing the start of Iggy Pop’s set by staying for the finale, Syd Barrett’s Golden Hair, which conjured up the famed ‘cathedrals of sound’ the band were known for back in their heyday.

For Iggy Pop’s fiery set, there was no let-up, opening with T.V. Eye, the shirtless 78-year-old bouncing around the stage.  Disconcertingly, the tight-as-fuck band were joined by two trumpet players, who thankfully didn’t overwhelm the crazed I Got A Right and Gimme Danger.  These fifty-year-old songs still have the (raw) power to get the hairs standing up on the back of your neck as Iggy delivered them like the rest of his life depended on it.  Popular solo tunes The Passenger and Lust for Life had the happy crowd chanting along, however, the likes of Death Trip were probably a little lost on some.  I Wanna Be Your Dog saw the singer run towards the crowd barrier, an excursion lapped up by the faithful, but in truth, Iggy struggled to return to the stage!  It didn’t matter as the crowd belted out the lyrics, and after a storming version of Search and Destroy, the singer requested a jacket (!) for 1970 (it was getting cold).  A mashup of L.A. Blues and Nightclubbing barely held together, and a high-energy set finished with Real Wild Child and Funtime.

A phenomenal day out, a combination of the best in current Irish rock, along with established greats Slowdive.  As for Iggy?  It was hard not to think that this would be the last time we’d see him live, but what separates him from contemporaries like the Rolling Stones and Springsteen is that there is still an edge, a sense of the unpredictable… that he could do anything.  All aboard for Funtime indeed!