Here are some truths about Brighton that become apparent during the Pride parade: people love being squirted with water, glitter can reach unspeakable places, some Brightonians are teeming with unabashed, gleeful deviance and everyone’s more talkative when the entire place resembles a city-sized rainbow flag.
What else? ‘YMCA’ by the Village People sounds weirdly great when it’s smashed from a bunch of steel drums on the back of a truck, Muslim drag queens are (as a sign clearly articulated) fabulous, and – as advertised by an animal welfare float – pigs aren’t prejudiced, dogs don’t discriminate and cats don’t care.
“Who loves Brighton?”, asks a crooning barber in a silver suit on a van, before breezing into Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly me to the Moon’ in front of a swaying crowd along London Road. For once, the question could just as easily apply to the way people appear to feel about each other, with the sun beaming down as the queues lengthen outside Preston Park in the early afternoon.
Inside, a man dressed as a ridiculous samurai is part of a daft tag-team introducing pop R&B trio M.O, all in beige tracksuits with songs and moves like All Saints-lite. No-one looks more pleased to be here than Olly Alexander, of Years & Years, whose grin shines almost as brightly as the sparkly pink and white shellsuit he bursts onto the main stage in. A passionate advocate of LGBT rights, Alexander’s message of self-acceptance on ‘Take Shelter’ sounds particularly heartfelt today. Most of the set is powderpuff pop, but they know how to put on a show.
The dance tent is a riot of high-energy twerking throughout, most noticeably when the rain briefly intervenes during the deft mix of Brighton chart-topper Seamus Haji, and for a cheese-laden set by legendary house DJ David Morales. But nothing comes close to the royal magnificence of headliners the Pet Shop Boys. Neil Tennant, who apparently spent the weekend in a pad neighbouring Norman Cook’s on Portslade beach, sings with every bit as much calculated gloss as he did more than 30 years ago on ‘Opportunities (Let’s Make lots of Money)’, and then goes on a two-hour victory lap of ingenious pop craftsmanship, set to a backdrop of rotating Rubik’s Cubes, revolving heads and Chris Lowe’s ever-glacial keys.
During ‘The Pop Kids’, from last year’s ‘Super’ album, which the duo are still touring, a boy of about seven sits on someone’s shoulders, pumping his fist in a multicoloured tribal hat, as if to underline the rare capacity of these songs to transcend generations, even if the hymnal melancholy of ‘Se a vida é’ is decidedly more poignant for the crowd members whose memories are stirred by this barrage of hits. “This is another old song – but which one?” teases Tennant, as if spinning a wheel on a pop gameshow, reaching for ‘Go West’ with the same ease that sees him administer a flawless ‘Love is a Bourgeois Construct’.
‘West End Girls’ is prolonged by a suitably cinematic build-up, but it’s testament to the duo’s enduring relevance that ‘Vocal’, from 2013’s ‘Electric’, also produces the kind of full-on rave innate to Pride. Illuminated by a near-full moon, it’s a unifying, deeply theatrical headline slot to cherish.
Pride, Saturday 5th August 2017
Words by Ben Miller
Photos by Fran Moore, Mike Tudor and Sam Sesemann.
