Friday
Arriving on Friday night, I was quite worse for wear and not in the usual “I’ve had too much to drink” sense either. After an exam (not related to ATP, they haven’t started testing people or anything), a train journey of death (it was physically brutal) and an hour long ride from Taunton train station to Minehead containing a confused family who seemed to think Butlins was open for business and a child who couldn’t stop throwing up, I was at the end of my proverbial tether. When we finally arrived at Butlins, it was around seven o’clock, meaning that for a start we had missed Mono and due to the fact that we had to camp outside of the event (press passes don’t cover chalets, sadly) we would also be missing Dinosaur Jr. After setting up a tent in the rain, we decided to venture two miles down this hill back to Butlins. When we did, we were treated to a rousing set from Explosions in the Sky, albeit from half-way through. Playing compositions ranging from “Magic Hours” on How Strange, Innocence to “Memorial” from The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place, we were treated to a quasi- best of Explosions in the Sky, although I can’t see that hitting the shelves any time soon. Rather than venturing to the front and attempting to get into the then already closed photo-pit, we instead headed to Finnigans for some wonderful fish and chips, with beans and curry sauce might I add.
However, after wearily treading towards Reds (home of Butlins red coats, thus meaning all the artists in there were honorary red coats, sort of) we managed to get up close and personal with The Octopus Project, who performed a glitchy masterpiece-stroke-mess of electronics and instruments and terrorised fans with black bags full of balloons, which according to the band, they didn’t know would be so hard to open, more on that later, but for now, here’s some pictures from their extraordinary set:
At around 11pm, exhaustion hit us hard and rather than sticking around for Four Tet we decided to venture back to our tiny tent on the hill, I will admit, we gave up walking up that monster quite early on, and decided that rather than slipping down the hill and ending up on some BBC S.O.S programme talking about how our mobile phones saved us from a cow’s wrath, we caught a taxi. The taxi driver treated us to a story of how he was to pick up Jens Lekman on Saturday and how last year he had picked up Sonic Youth. At that point it really hit us how much of an impact All Tomorrow’s Parties must have on Minehead, for a few days a year this sleepy sea-side town is invaded by the likes of Kim Gordon and hip kids who genuinely enjoy guitars with screwdrivers, the sound of static and the like. Perhaps this is what makes Minehead such a great choice for a festival, for a start you’re not in the middle of nowhere complaining about the lack of phone signal and the thousands that flock to the event certainly inject money into the local businesses.
Saturday
Anyway, on rolls Saturday and due to reasons as yet unsaid, we sadly miss World’s End Girlfriend, who, if popular opinion is to be trusted, performed a set that will go down in musical history, I think one word describes our thoughts on missing this; “bugger”. We returned back to the “pavilion stage”, essentially a stage surrounded by, amongst other things, a Burger King, an amusement arcade and a fish and chip shop to catch A Hawk and A Hacksaw kicking things off. As pleasant as the trio were, I’ll have to admit I did find myself nodding off so we ventured over to catch Saul Williams do his thing on the centre stage, and my, did he keep us awake. Opening with a snarled soliloquy of name-dropping and buckets of “fuck you” attitude, Saul Williams and his band of robotic and cape wearing DJ’s, as well as a smartly attired guitarist, were possibly the most theatrical and terrifying act at ATP. Performing songs such as “Black Stacey”, which includes the lyrics “Even though I always told you not to brag about the fact that your great grandmother was raped by her slave master” and the chant “I’m too black” It was an amazing show, but the content was perhaps a bit too uncomfortable for some. Having only heard of Saul Williams due to his work with Trent Reznor and the album that caused a stir in the music industry, The Inevitable Rise And Liberation Of Niggy Tardust, for me he was one of the most surprising acts of the day.
After venturing off to acquire some interesting material for TSB, we returned to the centre stage to catch the rest of Ghostface Killah’s set, complete with various Wu-Tang members, including the chef himself, Raekwon. The highlight of this show for me, and others I’m sure, was the moment Ghostface invited attractive female members of the audience to dance with him onstage, only to launch into a rousing rendition of “Greedy Bitches”, I can assure you all now, that the irony there was not lost on anyone, and unsurprisingly, “Greedy Bitches” soon became the anthem of ATP, with yelps of it being heard constantly. The culmination of this was when one young man was chanting it, then suggested to the young ladies near him “I didn’t mean you, this is the problem with gangster rap you see, I’m off to stab someone later”, before wandering off into the melee of people again.
Taking a break from the constant barrage of noise our ears were receiving throughout the day, we decided to take a wander around the festival grounds and spotted Raekwon selling CD’s out of a plastic bag, Avey Tare of Animal Collective fame tucking into a burger, and Tyondai Braxton of Battles employing, who we presume to be his girlfriend, legs as machine guns and pretending to blow up his chalet. It’s moments like these when you realise how different ATP is when compared to other UK festivals like Reading and Leeds. When reading about how The Kooks went mad back stage and drank a whole shandy between them, you notice there is a real separation between the bands and the fans, apart from a forty-five minute live show, the two are kept apart at all times. At All Tomorrow’s Parties though, this idea is thrown out of the window, the bands mingle with the fans and vice versa, the only difference between the two that we could spot is that the bands get nicer chalets.
We soon returned back into the land of loud music though, and after watching Eluvium sound-check, we returned back to the pavilion area to soak-up The National tell us their stories of melancholic Americana. Having heard many of their recorded works, we wondered if their distinct lo-fi yet fully formed songs could translate on such a huge stage. Turns out, the very opposite was true. Brimming with intensity, Matt Berninger cut a figure that the influential Bruce “The Boss” Springsteen would have been proud of. Frantic violining and some of the weekend’s biggest crowd sing-a-longs accompanied a career spanning set; highlights included a furious “Mr. November” and a heartbreakingly solemn “Slow Show”.
After The National had finished plucking on our tender heart strings, it was time to watch Matthew Cooper aka Eluvium showcase his sounds for real and moving between material from Copia and An Accidental Memory in Case of Death amongst others, the audience were treated to again, what felt like a best-of selection. The only problem we could surmise with Cooper’s set was that it was on too late and that his textural brand of ambient sounds weren’t best received in the land of red coats, although he did inspire one woman to take up interpretive dance with her pint glass.
If Eluvium wasn’t enough to fulfil the needs of your ambient palette, Stars of the Lid soon followed at midnight, with a set that again, wasn’t suited to what the audience seemed to want. Stars of the Lid were aware of this, as they introduced themselves by saying “you all know who we are?” then following this with suggesting that they’re “a classic rock band”. It seems that the audience weren’t really fazed either way, with some then shouting “Pearl Jam!” as if in agreement. We stayed for around twenty minutes of their set, but with tiredness kicking in, a crowd that were perhaps too rowdy, alongside our fear of being left to walk the big hill in the dark, we retired back to our tent.
Sunday
Come Sunday morning we were up and about at an unnaturally early time, and envious of all the normal ATP visitors in their warm chalets and their freedom to get up around midday, as they don’t have to bring you readers something extra-special. So away we went, and while I can’t suggest just what it was we were doing yet, I can let you know that it will provide an interesting read. Heading back to the stuff I can tell you about, at five pm we settled down at the centre stage to watch Atlas Sound and hear his dreamy collages of sound. Bradford was joined by the now-duo Broadcast, and performed songs such as “River Card” and a cover of Broadcast’s “Corporeal”, with Trish Keegan taking lead vocals and Cox backing. What’s interesting about Cox is that, aside from an album release Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel and a string of EPs, the majority of his creations are made available online for free, meaning that like Saul Williams, he’s one of the first artists at this particular ATP to move against the traditional realms of releasing music.
After Atlas Sound came Animal Collective, a band that I seem to have a love/hate relationship with, but it was now an opportunity for Avey and co to make amends with me and I’m happy to say they did, playing a variety of songs ranging from “Essplode” on very early album Danse Manatee to “Fireworks” from 2007 effort Strawberry Jam and a whole set of tropical-themed, harmony filled pop songs which are tipped to appear on the collective’s next LP. The trio provided a much needed dancey atmosphere on that early Sunday evening, blurring the gaps between songs with beautiful transitions and early ‘90s rave-esque, dub influenced beats that made your nose hurt. The only problem with their set was the sound, which came across as a bit too distorted and after the dreamy loveliness of Atlas Sound, was a bit of a shock to the system.
Still, on we venture and around eight thirty we headed towards the pavilion stage, only to find that De La Soul were still going strong. After De La Soul finally left the stage, we did a brief bit of snooping at one of the few back stage areas of ATP, and noticed that Dinosaur Jr., complete with guitars, were in vivid discussion with Kevin Drew and Amy Millan. I was a bit uncertain of how well Broken Social Scene’s set would go, as I’m a huge fan of their work as a collective, but Kevin Drew’s album didn’t really do it for me. However, all worries were soon hushed when the band opened with a chaotic “7/4 Shoreline” with “the” Millan sharing vocal duties and spending her time rousing the already hyped-up audience This was soon followed by “KC Accidental” and once the audience were sufficiently pumped to the point of explosion, Kevin launched into his own material, which was surprisingly equally favourable. Soon after, the band introduced Explosions in the Sky, Dinosaur Jr, and Constantines on stage, to share vocals for Drew song “Back out on the…”, which for me, was the overall highlight of the festival. Some have described this set as a religious experience, or an emotional rollercoaster, but I’d stick with the idea that it was bloody marvellous.
After all that excitement, we felt it necessary to calm our nerves and relax, so we soon headed over to watch Robert Lowe, under the moniker Lichens perform. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this set, as having heard Lowe’s albums I was aware that they were all (well, mostly) one-time improvisations, but how this would translate into a live show was a mystery to me. This mystery was soon solved, as Lowe carefully composed and layered an improvised piece to the point of perfection. Starting with what can be rudimentarily described as whistling into a microphone, then moving on to various guitar sounds and finally ending with other-worldly vocals, Lowe’s set was beautiful, and from my experiences earlier on in the day, if you think his music is hypnotic, you should hear him talk.
All Tomorrow’s Parties had so far been a monumental experience, probably one of the best of my life and exhaustion aside, nothing felt like it could go wrong, and not to sound over-dramatic, it did. After strolling out of the Centre stage, we were greeted with the mother of all queues for Battles, seriously: this was truly a “facepalm” moment, and when we realised the odds of us getting in to the show within the next hour were stacked against us, as the security had some wristband system that we weren’t a part of, we headed back to our tent, quite dismayed but still ecstatic about Broken Social Scene’s and Lichens set. It was only when we were at the top of the hill in our little tent that we could hear Battles, and we were even able to pick out what sounded like “Leyendecker” being played. Still, don’t let this deter you from attending ATP, the security and staff tried the best they could to get everyone in, and they did, just a lot later than planned. It was just a case of everyone wanting to see Battles at the same time, and really, who can blame them?
Originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com
Full Flickr set here.
No comments:
Post a Comment