The storm almost passed the Frequency Festival in St. Pölten, which had to be interrupted anyway. The actual headliner played penultimate.
“It smells like piss. It smells like death. But I feel good here,” Felix Kummer rapped on Thursday followingnoon Frequency Festival, but his feeling of well-being did not last long. Dark gray clouds moved from the south towards St. Pölten. The concerts were interrupted, the spectators were shooed out of the stage area. It shouldn’t be as bad as in Carinthia and Styria. A little wind, a little rain, it was over and the first Frequency in three years might go on.
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What has changed since 2019? There are now gluten-free burgers and vegan curry. Men walk hand in hand across the rocky ground, and many, many women wear their hair in two elaborately braided pigtails (there is said to be a “braiding station”). Glitter shines on the cheeks (microplastic, by the way). But overall: Everything is very nice and woke here. “We’re fighting for people of color to have a place, not just here at the festival but in the world,” said Jason Butler, lead singer of hardcore band Fever 333 and an African American, who reopened the concert series. Political statements on the smaller “Green Stage”, meanwhile harmony on the main stage, which this year has reached unimagined dimensions: Left and right are a kind of columns with semi-circular screens. Like being on the set of a Marvel Comics movie. A home video with a child and a grandpa flickered across the screens to the lovely sounds of the Oxford indie band Glass Animals.
After them, rapper 24KGolden stood alone, a bit lost on this gigantic stage. The power of a band was demonstrated in the well-filled hall (Red Bull Stage) by the constantly touring Upper Austrian trio Volkshilfe with their Alpine rock or Quetschn-Synthie-Pop or whatever this singular sound is called. They began their ode to male friendship, “Hey you”, by kissing each other: “We will kiss on stage until there is no reaction because two men are kissing,” promised singer Florian Ritt. Sweet. Ritt’s interaction with the willing audience was casual, easy.
Male love as a numerical code
RAF Camora is different. “Everybody clap,” he said. “Everybody jump”, “Everybody turn on the light from their cell phones.” The rapper from Vienna-Fünfhaus ordered, the willing audience obeyed. He represents a different image of masculinity than Folkshilfe, even if he also invoked loyal friendship with the battle cry “187” – which refers to his partner Bonez MC. Male love as a numerical code. The feelings are not easy for the gangsta rapper. The women, “bitches”, play in a “different league”. It’s easier to love cars, which are constantly mentioned in his texts.
Two dancers in fishnet tights stretched their butts towards the rapper, who was meanwhile standing on the roof of the technology tower. They were flown around by a drone, which quickly projected their images onto the screen. At the beginning of the performance he filmed himself, towards the end the audience became part of a video shoot: show the Germans and Swiss (Camora’s country of birth) how to make a moshpit! The crowd dutifully parted, only to reunite at the first strains of a new song. Hopefully injury free.
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His performance ended with fireworks (but not everything so woke here), as if he were the headliner. It was for most of the audience too, no one gathered more people in front of the stage. After him there was dance-along pop by Jason Derulo. A forgiving ending, gangsta rap always leaves a feeling of misanthropy. And everything was so nice…