Fred again.. at the Other Stage, Glastonbury review: chest-rattling tunes from music’s new darling

Accordingly, the crowd for his Glastonbury set yesterday was gargantuan: masses of people turned up wearing 90s’ style white t-shirts, round sunglasses and cargo shorts, an army of Fred again.. mini-me’s, ready to party.

He did not disappoint. The 29 year-old has been plugging away in the industry for years now, amassing a huge and impressive back catalogue; he’s worked with Ed Sheeran and Charli XCX, and written for George Ezra and Rita Ora, among others – but the album he pulled from most frequently was the one that broke him through into the mainstream, Actual Life 3.

It was a low key entrance – backed by a huge screen shaped like a phone, he made his appearance, grinning from ear to ear, starting off with some soft piano that segued neatly into his first song, Kyle (I found you).

“Oh god this is my favourite place on EARTH,” flashed up on the screen soon after, followed by, “this was the place I always dreamt to play.”

Indeed, Fred (full name Frederick Gibson) seemed slightly dazed by the scale of what he was doing. “It’s just magical,” he told the crowd. “Thank you so much for coming out.” With a huge grin on his face, he spun decks and pressed buttons with abandon, segueing neatly from Kyle to Bleu (better with time) as videos of London (mainly the Tube, strangely) played behind him. Afterwards, he folded himself over the mixing board and heaved for breath, clearly overwhelmed.

Understandably, given the scale of his performance, he played it safe. There was some new stuff in the mix – most notably a song he sweetly dedicated to his sister, who was in the crowd – but the fans were here for his biggest hits. Accordingly, he whipped out Jungle (always a banger), before segueing into the gritty, grimy Rumble, which featured a bass line so heavy it pulsed in your chest.

Then came the heavy hitters: Danielle (smile on my face) sent the crowd into raptures, while Sabrina (I Am A Party) folded neatly into Clara (night is dark). As the sun went down, flags were raised high above the Other Stage field, and Fred encouraged people to grab their phones. Lights duly in the air, he launched into Delilah (pull me out of this) and then went completely off piste, encouraging festivalgoers to get on their friends’ shoulders and dance along – I imagine much to the horror of security.

Finally came the one, two punch of Marea (we’ve lost dancing) and Angie (I’ve been lost), the latter of which featured a two-line refrain sung by the crowd at full volume to the backing of a musical beat.

Unusually for Glastonbury, the set ran over – six minutes, to be precise. As Fred noodled on the piano and the crowd sang that same refrain back to him again and again, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from eking out just that little bit more time on stage.

“They’re going to turn off my microphone,” he joked before leaving. But he didn’t have to worry: as the stage emptied, the festival rang with the sound of the crowd, filling the space that he’d left with his own lyrics.