Auto Festival 2002 Review

Templeborough Steelworks is an imposing testimony to the sheer scale and innovation of 20th Century industry, once being home to nearly 10,000 workers. But on this freezing December evening the intermittent drizzle and biting gusts dampen any architectural or historical appreciation that the 3,000 or so gig goers may have had.

As we line up outside the newly renovated Magna Centre, now serving as a 'Science Adventure Park' on the Sheffield/Rotherham border, increasing impatience is beginning to set in as the doors fail to open until quarter past seven. Only 15 minutes late but in these sub-zero conditions those minutes feel a great deal longer.

For once, stewards and security are sympathetic and it's clear that they're equally relieved when the crowd begins to move into the venue. Immediately inside, a stage is located to the right, forming the basis of  'Auto 1'. Yet, it's impossible to hang around this area and watch any acts due to the influx of people entering through the main doors. We move onwards and find ourselves in a small, inflatable dome structure, Auto 4, currently playing home to Asleep at the Wheel DJs.

It's Jarvis and Steve we want to see as they're scheduled to DJ under the alias of Desparate Sound System but by the time we find Auto 3, the largest and most traditional performance space, James Yorkston is on stage entertaining the assorted few with his own brand of folk melancholy.

It is apparent that a great deal of imaginative and logistic effort has been exerted in order to transform the steelworks into a workable festival site. Aesthetically, it's breath-taking at times and negotiating between 'stages' feels, in places, like genuine exploration. Unfortunately, the novelty soon fades as the building offers little protection against the extreme elements. There is a generous provision of gas heaters throughout but they bravely fail to impact upon the icy atmosphere.

Auto 2 is the coldest of all but we huddle together to watch Erlend Oye, Royksopp's chart-busting vocalist and half of Kings of Convenience, perform material from his forthcoming solo album. It's only a small gathering but one that is soon charmed by an eccentric combination of singing and DJ-ing, punctuated by Erlend's unique flapping arm movements that must constitute dancing in Northern Europe. Whilst the Norwegian troubadour struggles to traverse both disciplines, his failure to cue another CD is acknowledged with the comment, "It's difficult to be a DJ when you're really not one." The tempo is then bizarrely raised when he drops the Pet Shop Boys' version of 'You Were Always on My Mind' and, in response, at least 6 people begin to frug frantically. It's an even bigger surprise when Erlend swings his lengthy legs over the crowd barrier and joins them for the duration of the song, bouncing up and down occasionally.

The large number of people awaiting Lemon Jelly's appearance are becoming quickly frustrated at the stage's proximity to the entrance. The space also acts as a main corridor linking all other arenas and as such, we have to move on, missing what we hoped would be one of the evening's highlights.