There are real moments of brilliance during Reneé Rapp’s surprisingly soggy set; it’s just a shame she doesn’t get a chance to show how much more she has to offer.
Words: Ali Shutler.
Photos: Frances Beach, Patrick Gunning.
“Someone better call me a good fucking sport,” grins a soaked Reneé Rapp, halfway through what must be the most cursed set in Reading Festival history. After a false start, she manages a trio of blistering pop songs before a gust of wind dumps a metric shit ton of water on the stage. After a brief pause, she returns and confirms that despite a majority of their equipment getting ruined, she’s determined to put on a good show. She manages one more ace track before a second downpour kills off the last of their equipment and she’s forced to abandon her set. All of this after Storm Lillan cancelled her set up in Leeds. “Girl, what the fuck,” she wrote shortly afterwards.
What makes it worse is that among those ‘what the fuck’ moments, Reneé Rapp is really great. The opening ‘Talk Too Much’ is super commanding, all gleeful and biting before ‘Poison Poison’ sees the entire field screaming along to a venomous anthem. A tender ‘Bruises’ gives the rowdy Reading crowd a glimpse into the emotional power Reneé wields when she’s not delivering giddy bangers, while ‘Not My Fault’ is dripping in playfully swaggering confidence.
There are real moments of brilliance during Reneé Rapp’s surprisingly soggy set; it’s just a shame she doesn’t get a chance to show how much more she has to offer. “I’m going to need to talk to someone real quick,” she tells the crowd shortly before departing. Here’s hoping it’s the Reading bookers to talk about a return next year.
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