FRIDAY
My chalet companions and I arrive at Butlins in Minehead at around 5.30pm on Friday, following a six hour ordeal of a drive down from London and swearing that we will never again follow the instructions provided by the AA’s route-map service. We collect our keys and upon reaching the chalet learn a valuable lesson: always get a chalet with a kitchen and living area.
After dropping the luggage off we immediately venture out to catch our first band of the weekend. Unfortunately we arrived too late to see either The Thermals or Daniel Johnston, and as we approach the main Butlins ‘entertainment complex’ Yo La Tengo can clearly be heard pounding out the krautrock-esque rhythms of ”Pass the Hatchet, I think I’m Goodkind”. Hurrying inside we discover just how the queuing problems of the Thurston Moore curated event have been solved; with the construction of an enormous stage in the centre of the main Butlins Pavilion. While this certainly solved the problems with queuing, it did unfortunately play havoc with the sound of some of the bands performing on that stage throughout the weekend.
Undeterred by this unexpected sight, we battle through a sea of polite indie kids to get closer to the stage and witness Yo La Tengo (always good value for money live) giving the audience a lesson in how to be a great live band. Ranging from delicate piano and folk ballads, through to perfect pop hits like “Sugarcube” and massive, blissful guitar wig-outs such as “The Story of Yo La Tengo” (during which guitarist/singer Ira Kaplan pulls an ever increasing variety of guitar-hero poses), the band has a perfect grasp of its material, and is never anything less than brilliantly entertaining. They return for an encore and are joined by Daniel Johnston, performing his song “Speeding Motorcycle”. It’s a lovely moment and a great closer to their set.
Next up, Scotland’s Finest™, the mighty Mogwai. After an introduction by a suspicious American gentleman claiming to be head of Butlins security, (“I want nothing but white dudes staring at pedals for the first ten rows ”) they step out onstage like returning heroes (which in a sense they are, having performed at numerous ATP’s since they curated the very first event back in 2000) and kick off, appropriately, with “Superheroes of BMX”.
Their set is plucked from almost every album and seamlessly weaves between the heavier numbers and the more downbeat, introspective moments. Finishing their main set with a superb rendition of “2 Rights Make One Wrong”, with a brilliant electronic outro, they return to detonate our ear-drums with two absolutely monumental versions of “Glasgow Mega-Snake” and “We’re No Here”. There’s always a moment in a Mogwai set where, no matter how many times you’ve seen them, they still manage to catch you off-guard with a blast of sound at such volume that it’s staggering, and this was it. Mogwai’s set left me with only one question: Do they ever play a bad gig?
After the intensity of Mogwai it’s decided that we need something a little more relaxing, and so we head on over to see Alexander Tucker on the centre stage. Sat dead centre on the stage and under a single spotlight, Tucker teases gentle loops and swells of sound from his guitar, slowly building up layers into a thick, gloopy wall of delayed, fractured notes. It’s certainly soothing after the crushing intensity of Mogwai, but the large capacity of the stage and the sound from the two bars flanking the venue doesn’t really help to build the intimate atmosphere so essential to this form of music.
Next up is one of the revelations of the weekend; Akron/Family. While their records are more low-key affairs, tonight they marry blasts of noisy rock to sweet Southern-Fried vocal harmonies, ‘rocking out’ in the best sense of the words. Throwing themselves around the stage with unabashed glee, they encourage the crowd as much as possible to get involved, and as they leave the stage I’m with the image of a band that feels nothing but joy in playing music together with friends in front of an enthusiastic crowd. Though the feeling remains that they would still be this passionate sitting at home with a couple of acoustic guitars and a few beers for company.
Once Akron/Family have departed the stage, a decision is to be made: 65DaysofStatic or YouthMovies? In the end sheer exhaustion from driving down wins out and I return to the chalet in the hope to get a decent night’s sleep before tomorrow. This being a festival, it doesn’t happen.
SATURDAY
First thing on Saturday, after hunting down some provisions from your friendly local supermarket, we head out to catch Shellac, only to discover that they’ve been moved to a later slot. Grumpily we return to the chalet to catch up on some sleep/watch the FA cup final. It’s shit, so we leave before extra time to catch The Go! Team in action.
Coming on like Sonic Youth playing a kids birthday party, The Go! Team are always a fun band to watch, and today is no different; instrument swapping, cheerleader chants, hyperactive raps, and inciting the ‘beard-strokers’ in the crowd to move their asses is all in a day’s work from front-woman Ninja and the band. They play a solid mixture of older material and new tracks from their second album (which is out later this year, as we are incessantly reminded by Ninja), and the combination of the bands energy and dual drummers manage to get even the whitest, nerdiest man at ATP (stood just in front of us in cut off denim shorts, hiking boots, and a sporting a little ‘tache) shaking his thing. Sadly it seems that some of the newer tracks are bereft of the beautifully simple hooks found on Thunder, Lightning, Strike, but we’ll have to wait for the album to find out if this is really the case.
Just before The Go! Team’s set is over, we hurry across to the central stage for one of the performances of the weekend. A Les Savy Fav gig is never just a gig, it’s a unique experience. Today’s event begins with magnetic frontman Tim Harrington sitting on a chair, centre stage and having a chat with the audience. While having a haircut. “Let’s just take the forty minutes of this set, forget the past, forget the future. Let’s just indulge in immediate gratification… I’m not asking you to think we’re good. I’m just asking you to not think” he says. From any other band this would sound nonsensical and pretentious, but from the moment the band kicks off and Harrington launches himself headlong into the crowd, it’s impossible to be focussed on anything other than the incredible performance.
While the band charge through songs off all of their previously released albums, including a riotous “Sweat Descends”, and an incredible version of “We Rock the Party”, Harrington undergoes about 20 costume changes, paints his own, his band mates and lucky devotees faces, stands aloft a table and commands the crowd like a mad dictator with a Teletubby fetish and performs a mock execution of one of the audience. The band also treats us to a fine selection of material from recent tour EP’s and some brand new songs from their new album, due out later this in year, including a song that is apparently about Harrington’s first time with a lady. Magnificent.
Only one band could possibly have the balls and the chops to follow Les Savy Fav in full flow, and as luck would have it, that band is here today. As Battles slowly set up their über hi-tech equipment, the already full centre stage reaches bursting capacity and anticipation rises alongside the temperature to reach fever-point. Finally, after what seems an eternity Tyondai Braxton takes up the microphone and the raspy, chopped-up, asthmatic-beat-box rhythms of ‘Tij’ ring out and we’re off on a journey that doesn’t allow us to pause for breath until we’re filing out of the venue, exhilarated but exhausted. The set is made up mainly of songs taken from Mirrored and features a great rendition of ‘Tonto’ and an absolutely extraordinary version of ‘Atlas’ that not only gets the whole floor shaking, but receives one of the biggest cheers of the weekend. They also toss in a couple of oldies for the kids who knew them from their EP’s, (math)rocking out on ‘Tras’, and closing with a surprisingly heavy rendition of ‘Hi/Lo’, driving home the fact that right now, Battles are one of the most original, daring and downright exciting bands on the planet.
Legend in her own lifetime, Patti Smith is up next in the Pavilion Stage, playing classics from Horses, and a few covers too. She’s still in fine voice after all these years and cuts a commanding figure on stage, but unfortunately towards the end of her set things descend into stick-it-to-the-man, we’re-all-one-people-in-a-fucked-up-world, rock and roll cliché, and her cover of Nirvana’s “Teen Spirit” is more than a little embarrassing.
The Books provide some entrancing, low-key, melancholy entertainment on the Centre Stage after Smith’s somewhat overblown gestures, playing both to and with projections that run behind the pair. It’s quite lovely, even if it does seem to blend into one extended song; possibly because of the amount of alcohol now partying through the bloodstream.
Trans Am, or Why?, that is the question. While I’m sure a large number of readers and contributors to this here website would have chosen the former, the distinct shortage of hip-hop over this weekend leads to the decision to check out the curious pop-hop charms of Yoni Wolf and co. Delivering an excellent performance of material taken from his most recent albums, the Early Whitney EP and a sliver of new tracks, Yoni and his band have the whole crowd bobbing, weaving and singing along to their low key charms. Of particular note was the superb drummer (apparently Mr Wolf’s brother) who hammered out some solid yet intricate beats, while simultaneously playing the xylophone, and an impromptu guest appearance by a certain Dose One (introduced as Connor Oberst of Bright Eyes) to serenade the crowd during a technical hitch.
Our appetites suitably whetted, we’re now ready for a real old-school hip-hop show, and that’s exactly what we get when Edan and MC Dagha hit the stage. Both display an incredible sense of rhythm and a supremely satisfying flow in their rhymes, as Edan spins some phat beats on the decks. There’s a brilliant acapella moment towards the end of their set when both MCees twist their rhymes in and out of the others, stopping and starting without warning, as tight, in their own way as Battles were earlier in the day. The final song is performed like a homage to Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” video, with Edan name-dropping artists and albums as Dagha holds up their record sleeves and flips through, revealing the correct album in time with the rap. It’s a nice piece of low-key showmanship, and a fun way to end the set.
SUNDAY
Considering the theme of this ATP, there’s been very little antagonism between the fans and the festival. Thank fuck for Shellac then, who bring the ‘fuck you’ attitude in spades. “Why do you suck so much?!” shouts an ‘ironic’ white-sunglasses-wearing, twat-farmed heckler. “Because your mom’s busy” comes the acidic reply from Albini, before the band immediately launch into an furious version of “My Black Ass”, complete with nerd-dancing from Todd. Today, the band skirt around playing most of their biggest ‘hits’ (i.e. “Prayer to God”) and deliver more of a fan’s set. They hammer through songs like “Crow” and “Mouthpiece”, then perform a crushing version of “End of Radio”, during which drummer Todd Trainer grabs his snare and heads to the crowd to antagonise the aforementioned heckler and lead the crowd towards and ecstatic payoff. Without a doubt, Shellac produce one of the finest performances of the weekend.
No-one in their right mind would argue against the fact that Slint wrote and recorded two of the finest, most influential, and downright important records of the late 90’s, and ordinarily seeing a band as legendary as this would have me in paroxysms of joy. Having been stung by seeing them telegraph in an extraordinarily lifeless performance at their own curated ATP a few years ago however, I approach their set merely with a cautious optimism, hoping that now they’ve had a few more gigs under their belt they’ll be able to cut loose and enjoy playing a little more. Sadly, my hopes are dashed. Live, Slint have the personality of a bunch of faceless shop window mannequins with wet cloths draped over their heads. Standing rooted to the spot, all four (occasionally five) members seem utterly indifferent to the fact that they are playing on stage to thousands of adoring fans, and instead work their way through their set with a workman like sense of obligation that leads several people around me to wonder if they may as well be back in their chalet listening to the albums. Disappointing to say the very least.
After the frustration of Slint’s performance we head over to watch Micah P Hinson do his alt-country thing. Hinson’s music isn’t the most original in the world, but his voice is certainly powerful. Rising from a low, depressed moan to a cracked, mournful howl not unlike that of an injured wolf, it’s hard not to admire the way he unselfconsciously throws himself into his songs of love, loss and woe. It’s pretty powerful stuff.
The need for sustenance takes out a couple of performances unfortunately, but we’re back in action for the heaviest band of the weekend, ISIS. Introduced by the same suspicious ‘head of security’ as Mogwai, who again checks for “only white dudes in the audience, this time however with shitty tattoos”, the band struts out on stage and proceeds to lay waste to the centre stage. Splitting their set between older and newer material, the band please their established fans, and undoubtedly win over a bunch of new ones with their blissed-out monolithic-metal take on post-rock. The peaks and troughs of the band’s music flow smoothly, with their three pronged guitar attack creating an all encompassing wall of sound, while Aaron Turner’s guttural bellows adding an extra dimension of intensity to the thudding riffage. In what seems like a blink of an eye, the set is over and they’re gone.
We catch a rare UK performance by Built to Spill next, who run through a crowd pleasing set of their best known material, with a few fan favourites thrown in for good measure. Doug Martsch is in excellent voice tonight, sounding not unlike Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle at points, delivering a particularly great version of “You Were Right” that has the whole crowd singing along.
Having missed Grizzly Bear performing an impromptu intimate acoustic gig on Minehead beach to catch ISIS, it only seems right to watch their set of yearning countrified rock. Sweet, pitch-perfect four-way harmonies abound, putting a smile on everyone in attendance. Highlights include a lovely, and in places surprisingly hard-rocking rendition of “Colorado” and a tear-jerking “Knife”.
Closing out the festival at 1am on Monday morning are the massed ranks of Do Make Say Think, who provide one of the most uplifting an energetic performances of the weekend, making even the most ardent DMST-hater (i.e. a close friend) dance and join in. Playing a variety of material from their most recent album, You, You’re a History in Rust and plenty of old favourites, they turn out to be a surprisingly upbeat and apt closer for the weekend’s festivities.
Exhausted but happy, I trudge back to the chalet to zone out in front of Koyaanaqatsi, before falling asleep face down in my pillow, ready for the long drive back home. So…Nightmare Before Christmas, anyone?
-Kris Ilic