They didn’t start it, the sound technicians did.
It’s showtime. Or at least it should be. The Ting Tings are due onstage and sound technicians are still squabbling amongst drums and hastily mounted microphone stands. Ten tedious minutes pass before the stage is left empty for the band to walk onstage. Any manifested nerves are promptly relented; with a strong British contingent as support this feels more like home than sunny Spain. Then you realise that the time is approaching 7pm and the heat is still arduous. Despite the bands ever increasing popularity they are second up in a tent where punishing conditions cannot help their performance and arrives when many punters are still on the beach.
For a two-piece this is an especially taxing effort; making up for fewer members by having to combine looped vocals and foot pedals. As front woman Kate White carefully places an intricate sequence of beeps into place she gently strums the intro to Great DJ and the tent finds the energy to spring into life. Whilst White may have that innocent blonde appearance, behind that seductive fringe she arrogantly swaggers her way through an insolent rendition of Fruit Machine. The conditions still seem relentless and for their own health they take a well deserved breather with the only merciful track in their repertoire, Traffic Light. Though it pails short in excitement with its soft, swaying vocals you cannot fault them for preferring a rest.
The prior sound difficulties are not forgotten as during recent single Shut Up And Let Me Go, White lashes out at the bass drum before sending a helpless microphone stand flying towards an innocent looking technician. The song that many have come to see finally arrives and White finds the excuse to further endanger the equipment by pummelling her own microphone throughout That’s Not My Name, screaming like a banshee who has just had their sunbed stolen. They close with We Started Nothing, and for once their innocence prevails. They didn’t start it, the sound technicians did.