I arrived in Paris to find autumn had painted everything deep shades of reds and browns. A light mist hung in the air and dampened my hair and clothes as I walked through the cobblestoned streets of Montmartre and enjoyed a few moments of quiet before one of France’s biggest music festivals, Rock En Seine.
The festival has been running since 2003 and hosts more than 40,000 people per day, right at the doorstep of Paris’s city centre, in the gorgeous historical park of Domaine de Saint-Cloud, which gave the weekend quite the decadent touch.
I experienced Rock En Seine as part of , which aim at bringing members closer to some of the festival’s biggest artists through VIP access, premium hospitality, and exclusive action packages. Members of Marriott Bonvoy can redeem points for unique, high-end experiences spanning arts and lifestyle, culinary, entertainment and sport, from celebrity-chef dinners and backstage concert access to sporting events and movie premieres. With Moments changing throughout the year and available across destinations worldwide, the programme offers Marriott Bonvoy members new ways to turn points earned through travel and everyday activities into memorable experiences aligned with their passions.
Friday started with a heartwarming set by Kingfishr, the Irish indie folk group who’s been on a speedy ascend for the past year. After missing their headline slot at this year’s Great Escape, I was glad for the opportunity to catch them here in Paris. The band was charming, the set immersive and comforting with a sound that’s wedged between old and new, between tradition and experimentation. Frontman Eddie Keogh had a smile on his face the whole time, and spoke kindly about “sharing the most vulnerable parts of ourselves”, and how music serves to bring us all closer.
The afternoon’s atmosphere turned from bittersweet to frenetic as it was time for to take the stage. As Rhian Teasdale stepped confidently in front of her mic we immediately lifted our feet off the ground and started dancing, Teasdale’s magnetic whisper-like singing a sharp contrast to the crowd’s excited screams and cheers. Wet Leg’s set was dynamic and playful. Songs like “Chaise Longue” or “Ur Mum” made it all feel like a big party, and for a moment we forgot summer was about to end.
I then moved to the festival’s smaller stage, where I stumbled upon my favourite discovery of the whole weekend: . The Marseille-based quartet blew my mind away with their garage pop/psychedelic blend, delivered with a high amount of energy and electrifying enthusiasm. The band, while playing with incredible precision and skill, didn’t take themselves too seriously: they invited a member of the audience up on the stage and taught her the guitar riff to their single “La Fête”. She then proceeded to flawlessly play it the whole way through so that lead vocalist Jules Massa could join the mosh pit.
Friday ended in explosive fashion with the last set of the night. While I dreaded having to miss Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (whom, admittedly, I’d only seen a month earlier), I was ecstatic at finally getting the opportunity to see . Her performance was sexy, steamy, disruptive, angry, political, and liberating. “Are you having fun with Peaches?” she kept asking as the audience roared before her. Her use of props is one I’ve never seen before on stage: gimp masks, fake boobs, beheaded dolls, and inflatable monsters of questionable resemblances. The most incredible part of her set, however, was her personality. Peaches is the best example of modern-day feminism. Her activism is vocal, inclusive, intersectional. She is a glowing reminder that women have power, strength, and value, and that there’s no expiration date for becoming the loudest, proudest, boldest versions of ourselves. Long Live Peaches!
Saturday greeted me with heavy rain as I made my way to the festival for the most anticipated day of the whole weekend. The lineup was as near to perfect as it could’ve been, and the air buzzed with excitement.
kicked the day off in maddening grandiose fashion. The duo has been skyrocketing since they first started gigging in Brighton, and as a fellow Brightonian, seeing them at Rock En Seine filled me with pride. The second lead singer Phoebe Lunny, she instantly demanded the crowd split in two for the day’s first (but not last) wall of death. By the end of the first song, we were all covered in mud and sweat, and we only wanted more. Lambrini Girls then delivered an hour of skull-rattling, adrenaline-filled punk.
However, they weren’t on that stage just to play music, but to make a statement. They displayed a banner that read ‘Fuck Marine Le Pen’ and demanded that we all take collective action against the rise of the far-right and fascism that we’re witnessing all over the globe. Towards the end of the set, touring drummer Misha Phillips gave a poignant speech in support of trans and non-binary people. In the UK, new guidance around ‘single-sex spaces’ and the ‘pause’ on some gender affirming healthcare is the disappointing consequence of the transphobia that’s poisoning the country. Phillip’s speech was one of frustration, anger, but also of empathy and love. It called for solidarity and community, and we cheered at the top of our lungs in agreement.
Next up was , the London-based six-piece who recently drew a lot of attention with the release of their debut album ‘Cannonball’. This band knows how to draw your attention, with a sound that’s at the same time powerful but delicate, a unique blend of punk rawness and orchestral sentimentality. Each member shines in their own individuality while forming a tight, uniform pack. Violinist Clio Starwood especially stole the show; when she wasn’t enchanting us with her magnificent melodies, she would be seen taking pictures of the band and audience on her digi cam. Her and main guitarist Billy Ward finished off the set by lighting up cigarettes on stage, with the confidence of true veteran rock stars.
By then the mud had dried on our skin and the sun started to peek from behind the clouds, bringing some warmth into the grey day. I sprinted back to the main stage to catch , who delivered a set that was joyous, gritty, thrilling. Amy was absolutely magnetic, a pleasure to witness her command the crowd. The songs kept rolling in at an unstoppable frenetic rhythm as we struggled to catch our breaths between one mosh and the next.
By the end of their set, the rain had seeped in my boots and my knees shivered from the effort. Yet adrenaline cursed through my body as we waited for the final act of the night, and the most anticipated of the whole weekend: . A band like that needs no introduction, no explanation. Their set was fiery, cinematic, mesmerizing. Chino Moreno’s angelic vocals rose up high against the thunderous drums and powerful guitars, all of which was accompanied by enchanting visuals of waves and birds and ballerinas. The encore ‘Change (in the house of flies)’ left me absolutely mesmerized. The singer’s dark silhouette stood in contrast against a burnt orange sunset, singing with such tenderness that brought me almost to tears. There’s something special about seeing a band with a career spanning three decades still being so eager to play. Seeing Moreno’s wide smile as we sang the lyrics back at him, or as we swayed our arms in unison, made me feel like I was part of something bigger than myself, which I guess it’s the whole reason why we attend festivals like this one. The night ended with the ferocious ‘7 words’, and we headed home covered in mud, smelling of sweat, beer, and smoke, pearly smiles shining against the midnight sky.
When I walked through the festival gates on Sunday afternoon, the mood was radically different from the day before. The air was warm, and people leisurely strolled from one stage to the next. It felt like the last day of holiday, when you’ve hit all the touristy destinations on your wish list, and you’re now ready to just sit on a park bench and take it all in. The lineup felt very nostalgic with acts like , , and . My favourite set of all, however, was by far . I sat down at the back of the crowd and looked at the browning trees as Mogwai delivered a set that was mournful, longing, and romantic. The crescendo of each piece (calling them ‘songs’ seems reductive) was mesmerizing. As the Scottish band plays almost exclusively instrumental pieces, their set felt like an otherworldly experience, as if I were weightlessly floating on a cloud of sound.
The festival was closed by , who pulled the biggest crowd out of the whole weekend. I enjoyed their set from the sidelines, sitting on a stretch of sun-bleached grass, looking at thousands of people singing and clapping in unison, feeling battered, half-deaf, and incredibly lucky.
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