There are gigs, and then there are gigs. The ones you’ll remember years from now when all the crappy pub gigs, all the arena shows, all the festivals have rolled into one glorious mess of boozing, partying and music. The ones that stand out are the ones that were so memorable, so ridiculously enjoyable, that they’re etched into your memory like a fucking stone age cave painting… just, y’know, probably, with less mastodon hunting. Better etch a Bacardi bat onto that wall then, because the Bacardi Triangle was one of those gigs.
The rum brand flew 1,862 people all the way to Puerto Rico for an all-expenses paid ‘trip of a lifetime’, with a slew of lucky competition winners, grinning media, and assorted industry hangers-on being treated to barrels upon barrels of Bacardi, as well as five-star treatment at the exclusive El Conquistador resort. So…. really, when the words ‘all-expenses paid’ and ‘five star resort’ are involved, you’re off to a good start for ‘best gig in the world’ status.
Across four days, a mixture of happy party goers, rocking EDM bros, Hungarian models and goofy Australian media spent their time lounging in and around pools, Bacardi in hand, while DJs played almost every waking hour at one of the three mega swimming pool-bar combinations across the three levels of El Conquistador.
Everywhere you looked there were triangles and the Bacardi logo, and arrivees were greeted by cocktails and DJs in the resort foyer, entering to discover DJs at every pool, bars populating every nook and highlights like Tensnake at Club 1862 (the main pool) following PBR Streetgang and Cuban Brothers (with dancers and acrobats providing mid-pool entertainment in conjunction). There were more DJs than you could point a pina colada at… and, weirdly, that’s what everyone was doing. Unsurprisingly, it devolved into a raucous pool party that felt like something out of a teen movie where Jason Biggs can’t get laid and everyone is more attractive than you.
Friday brought a mixology session (where we learned how to make assorted Bacardi cocktails… while drinking them) and a media Q+A with Ellie Goulding… but mainly it was about the Halloween Black Magic Pool Party, which had guests descend onto the resort’s water park en masse and in Halloween costume for a night of debauchery and, well, even more DJs. Australia’s own Bang Gang DJs got in on the action, joining Cuban Brothers, AC Slater and Crookers in DJing on a huge triangle stage positioned somewhat precariously on the edge of a huge swimming pool, cranking their happily party-heavy electro into the pool-bound masses.
Ellie Goulding was spotted in the crowd similarly dressed up and partying as hard as anybody among the assorted werewolves, pirates, witches, mermaids, cats, skeletons, rabbits, superheroes and, um, terrifyingly attractive. Meanwhile, the range of Bacardi cocktails available (the safest bets were the Cuba Libre and Pina Colada — for some reason, it’s almost impossible to screw them up) fuelled the Halloween party into a spectacular blur.
That was merely the prelude, however to Saturday’s main event. That’s what the 1,862 punters (a number chosen to commemorate when Bacardi was founded) were anticipating more than a Balinese tattooist waiting for drunk Australian holiday-makers. Pool parties and free Bacardi (limited to six per day per person, just so no one got in trouble) are all well and good, but the star power of Calvin Harris, Kendrick Lamar and Ellie Goulding was undeniable. And considering the ridiculously exotic setting it promised much… but delivered, and then some.
After a hefty wait to get to Palomino Island — the private island just off the coast of Puerto Rico hosting the show — upon disembarking, punters were greeted by bizarre performance flavours with shipwreck survivors, lost pirates, island dancers and groups of fire twirlers and percussionists adding to the surreal air of the show. For an idea of being transported to a netherworld of partying — clearly what Bacardi were aiming for — it was certainly effective. The exotic location, the bizarre entertainment, the plentiful cocktails; if you couldn’t have fun at this show, you’d probably be best off staying at home and submitting yourself to the thrill of playing, like, jenga or something.
Anyway. With a crowd of rich-kid onlookers who’d borrowed daddy’s yacht and moored just off the beach, opener Ellie Goulding whirled around the gigantic triangle stage embedded in the sand of Palomino Island. And y’know what? She was fun. Fun in the way an ice cream can be; you know it’s not great for you, but shit it’s tasty. Tearing through her slabs of electro-pop with the abandon of a Brit on holiday in Spain, the Bacardi Triangle crowd warmed up to her quickly after ’I Need Your Love’ and ‘Light’ loosened them up. It was fun, really, because of just how hard Goulding — clad in boxing shorts and a sports bra — worked, building up a tremendous sweat as she alternated between sprinting around the stage, shredding on her guitar and tackling her floor toms, hair and arms all akimbo. Acknowledging it, she asked ‘Do I look a hot mess right now?
Closer ‘Burn’, though, took the cake; the crowd roared to life for it, not a surprise considering its undeniably catchy pop refrains have not only stuck around on US radio for ages, but it’s now soundtracking what feels like about 50 TV commercials in the ‘States too. Familiarity in pop music breeds nothing but appreciation, it seems. The smiles on the crowd’s faces told the story of just how entertaining Goulding’s show was; she worked hard to put on a pop spectacle, and all that sweat paid off.
Charming electro-pop is all well and good… but the highlight of the event was easily Kendrick Lamar’s mind-alteringly bombastic set, where the Compton rapper looked at the crowd laid out in front of him and proceeded to systematically destroy them. Unassumingly dressed (not a surprise, considering his ‘Control’ verse from last year – “I ain’t rocking no more designer shit”) he was backed by a live band and DJ Ali, who helped him slam through plenty of his breakthrough album ‘Good Kid, m.A.A.d City’.
The sound was subsequently massive, the live instrumentation adding an element to Kendrick’s sound that not many probably expected; giving it layers of brutal funk and ice that shook the crowd to their core. Coming as a surprise to no one, the biggest singsongs were reserved for ‘Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe’, ’Fuckin’ Problems’ and ’Swimming Pools (Drank)’, with the latter deserving special mention, because there’s nothing quite watching a crowd of (mainly) white kids scream out “Pour up… DRANK, head shot… DRANK, sit down… DRANK” and on. It wasn’t just a highlight of some people’s night, it was a highlight of their damn lives up ’til that moment. And, well, rightly so. It was pretty fucking amazing.
After smooshing a birthday cake for DJ Ali into the DJ’s sweet afro, and letting Jay Rock loose for his single ‘Pay For It’ (which Kendrick guests on), Kendrick finished with his quietly uplifting new single ‘i’, the kind of song based in ‘70s funk and married to killer contemporary hip-hop that only gets better the more you hear it, capping a tremendous set that converted everyone watching to the cause of one Kendrick Lamar.
Meanwhile the crowd had swelled appreciably during Kendrick’s set… but if they thought Calvin Harris would appear soon after, they were disappointed. The Scot DJ eventually appeared astride a giant pyramid on the triangle stage — a pyramid in a triangle? huh? — and let loose with a barrage of his hits, and not a few of his remixed drops (‘Turnt down for what’, indeed).
And for an event with less than 2,000 people in the audience, the show for Harris felt like a festival headline slot. It was huge. An amazing light show; smoke plumes; confetti cannons raining down golden shreds of paper (and hopefully being cleaned up later before killing some sea turtles or something)… but it was the pyramid itself that remained the centrepiece of the show, lighting up in a mind-boggling array of colours, patterns and projections. It was a definite, ‘Hey Daft Punk, if you’re not going to play live shows, I’m definitely stealing your schtick’ move.
And that’s where Calvin Harris is at now in his career; he’s been dominating pop music for the past two years, and his new album Motion will see that continue… even if his set was light on tunes from it. He ran through a ridiculous amount of tunes; stopping by Florence’s ‘Sweet Nothing’ and Rihanna’s ‘We Found Love’, swinging past Icona Pop’s ‘I Don’t Care’, and his huge party starters ‘Bounce’ and ‘Summer’, along with the epic ‘Feel So Close’ to slam home just how much Calvin Harris is dominating music right now. The beach crowd were in raptures, wave after wave of euphoria sweeping over them as Harris turned their brains inside out with party anthem after party anthem, setting off sweeping swathes of smiling punters losing their minds and dancing in the Puerto Rican sand.
Once it all came to an end, there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that they’d just had an experience that was likely to ever be repeated, let alone bested. The Bacardi Triangle was stupefyingly extravagant, and something definitely etched into the brainpans of those lucky enough to attend. Four days of sun, sand, opulence and Bacardi, topped off with three performers from different walks of musical life, all at the top of their game, playing on a private island in Puerto Rico?
Yeah, best gig of the year.
