Massive Attack, British Summer Time festival, Hyde Park, review: Brexit Britain takes centre stage

Massive Attack’s headline show at British Summer Time festival feels fittingly like a post-Brexit affair. Like we’ve all woken up in an episode of Charlie Brooker’s dystopian drama Black Mirror. The atmosphere is appropriately sombre, the crowd are divided, physically in this case between general admission and a premium viewing area at the front, and there’s a garishly-pristine VIP box made of white plastic that looks completely out of place to the right of the stage.

Of course, none of this is the band’s fault, and this practice of having to pay a little bit extra to be near the front has been going on for years, but given these fragile times, this divide seems even more pronounced, with those on general admission squeezed up against the barrier that separates the two tiers of the arena, despite ample room for more people in the premium zone.

Indeed, Massive Attack founding member Robert Del Naja senses the mood with a poignant take down of the rise in racist incidents since the Leave vote, before dedicating their 1994 hit “Eurochild” as a requiem for Britain’s membership in the EU. “As sons of immigrants, we [Del Naja and fellow band member Daddy G] are both very disappointed with the situation,” he says. “We can't allow ourselves to fall victim to the populist bullshit going on at the moment. We can't let the bigots and racists back into this situation.”

Although Del Naja balances the mood perfectly with regular quips about the current political climate, the intricacies of their trip hop sound are not entirely convincing in this arena setting. His subdued, Pet Shop Boys-style vocal tone doesn’t quite provide the uplifting vigor needed to captivate the 65,000 capacity venue, and at times the shoegaze guitar riffs in songs like “Inertia Creeps” and “Take It There” overpower and muddle Massive Attack’s frenetic beats and fuzzy synths. With some long gaps between songs, the gig also feels like a collection of disjointed works, rather then a well-thought-out show that seamlessly jumps from one track to the next.

However, Massive Attack do save the best till last. Introducing Deborah Miller for “Safe From Harm” and rolling out an orchestra for the 1991 epic “Unfinished Sympathy”. Arms stretched out, Miller dominates the arena with her titanic vocal delivery that still catches the spine after 25 years. A confident performance that highlights the lack of vitality in earlier numbers.