It's The End Of The Road - Part The Second

I was going to do a re-cap of the End Of The Road Festival a lot sooner but I seem to have spent the last week and a half with a series of hang-overs that have left me unable to be able to do anything other than cry or watch Heroes dvds. When I’m feeling particularly sprightly I can sometimes manage to cry AND watch Heroes dvds.

Writing this on Wednesday morning having broken the unwritten rule (that needs to be written by someone very quickly) of no Sunday, Monday and Tuesday night drinking in a work week, things don’t seem to have improved much.

In short, I am tired. If Satan had a dog then its eyes would look very much like mine do now. No doubt its mouth would also have a similarly horrifying taste lurking in the depths of it.

Reading the site I see that due to a post by the man-child Debris, thunder had been stolen and wind removed from sails. And thank God, as most of those acts had disappeared into a small tightly sealed box in the back of my mind due to a Saturday day-time on the Pimms and an evening where I consumed a whole bottle of vodka.

On this theme here’s a tip - if you’re ever camping with Debris and he’s gone to bed early, do not turn up at his tent at 3am and see if it’s possible to fit five men in his two-man tent. This is not appreciated and is apparently not as funny as it seems to be at the time.

Now what he neglected to mention was the fact that he bowed out of the festival early on the Sunday (if a man such as Debris can be said to be built for anything, then it is for small suburban towns in South-East London and not for the countryside) and by doing so, missed arguably the two best acts of the weekend.

My main reasons for going to it were to see Jens Lekman and Lambchop, although obviously as soon as the schedule came out I realised they clashed. Now, having endured Glastonbury this year I am more than used to “organisers” (and I use that term very loosely when it comes to the Glastonbury fiasco) ruining my weekend by having all the best people on at the same time. However, at the last minute Lekman decided to switch his set to an hour and half later and the beginning coincided beautifully with the ending of Lambchop. There was even time to send a minion to the bar to bring me more cider. Suddenly everything was coming up Stardust.

Before I go into that evening I want to back up Debris on Willard Grant Conspiracy. They’ve long been a favourite of mine and if you want to know why then here is Work Song.



Willard Grant Conspiracy – Work Song


Lambchop have become a mildly more stripped down proposition of late and have lost the string section. In all honesty it doesn’t really matter; they’re still just one of the most astonishing bands around today. If you don’t know them then the closest thing I can compare them to would be to maybe Nick Cave, but with light and beauty filtering into the dark places. Anyone who doesn’t own Nixon needs to sell hand jobs down at the docks until they’ve scraped together enough pennies to go out and buy it (or just nick it from HMV, I know a way of getting past their security system – email me if you want the secret).

I felt they lost their way a bit with the big double album which I’ve never been properly able to get my head round, but the last album was also fantastic. It takes seeing them play live to remember exactly how unique this band are as they launch into one beautiful song after another with Kurt Wagner’s amazing voice and truly great lyrics. The highlight of the set was the encore where they came back on with Howe Gelb to perform Up With People. How can a lyric like:

We are screwing up our lives today

Sound like the most joyous and life affirming thing ever said by anyone? Prior to this though they had made Howe Gelb read a paragraph from Bez’s autobiography whilst they all sat around laughing their heads off. Hearing that deep Southern accent recounting an anecdote about a Manchester club where the floor was covered in piss and the women stank of piss will go with me to the grave. They then finished with a cover of Leonard Cohen’s Chelsea Hotel #2. Yes, it was good. Here is The Man Who Loved Beer.



Lambchop – The Man Who Loved Beer


By the way, Kurt Wagner is playing a solo show at Union Chapel for which, criminally, there are still tickets. You must go.

Now last up was Swedish troubadour Jens Lekman. At times during his set I described it as Adam Green fronting Belle and Sebastian. At other times, when my mind wandered, I described it as Mike Flowers fronting Belle and Sebastian. But fine lines such as these need to be trodden by someone and 90% of the time the result was perfect pop. If you like pretty girls playing trumpets and saxophones over songs dedicated to hairdressers then this man is for you. Here is his song Black Cab which is on his collection Oh You’re So Silent Jens.



Jens Lekman – Black Cab


I was then kept awake all night by the kids sitting up and playing their electronic music on a "ghetto blaster". I grow old, I grow old…


Ricky Stardust


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It's The End Of The Road - Part The First

The End Of The Road Festival, now in its second year, takes place in the beautiful surroundings of Larmer Park in Dorset, in the west of England. As we approach in the shuttle coach from Salisbury station, pushing through winding country lanes and rolling fields, our spirits were high (though bruised somewhat by Stardust’s insistence on singing Boston songs throughout the journey). After half an hour the coach rounds a bend and we can see rows of tents already set up. They sit on top of the hill. On top of the hill sits a big, black cloud. It sits there for ten hours and rains the whole time. Ah, England.

Fortunately, after pitching our tents and scouting things out, it becomes clear that The End Of The Road has three things that will combine to keep our spirits high. These are:

1 - portaloos with toilet paper and soap
2 - hot cider
3 - the good music

Unfortunately, I remember the hot cider more than the good music, but here goes anyway...

The weekend started off with Willard Grant Conspiracy whose songs of death, despair and bodies thrown into wells were delivered in deep, bluesy perfection. They are my new favourite American depressives.



Willard Grant Conspiracy - Skeleton


Next up was Stephanie Dosen, who was very funny, cute and charming. Stardust fell in love with her instantly but unfortunately we had to leave the set halfway through to get out of the rain. The only refuge was the beer tent – so there is then a five hour gap in my memory. I do remember headliners Yo La Tengo, however, because they were VERY LOUD. Pretty good, too, with fierce drumming and hypnotic bass lines providing the basis for much overblown lead guitar histrionics.

Following a night so cold that at one point I bumped into Ernest Shackleton and a team of huskies I awaken with intense cramp in my legs and a hangover straight from cider hell. Luckily therapy is on hand as the weather has changed overnight to probably the nicest day of the year. The skies are perfect blue and the sun shines brightly all day.

It all sets us up nicely for having a noon-time beer outside the tent in which tapetheradio were doing their thing. They played six or seven very tight, smart tunes and are officially our discovery of the weekend. Watch that space.

We then wandered over to the main stage for a Scandinavian trilogy. First up were Loney, Dear whose blissed out pop fitted the sunny mood perfectly.



Loney, Dear – Saturday Waits


I’m From Barcelona were in many ways the highlight of the weekend; simply joyous tunes and much silliness combining to get the crowd into what can only be called a middle-class frenzy (i.e. clapping a lot and smiling). Any band that has more than 10 members, buckets of confetti, giant balloons and a lead singer crowd surfing on a lilo can’t be all bad.



I’m From Barcelona – We’re From Barcelona


Last of the trilogy were The Concretes, who are now blander than The Cardigans – and that’s bland.

So we won’t talk about them, we’ll talk about Joan As Policewoman instead who came on next and performed a stunning set in front of a crowd who clearly appreciated her songs of heartbreak. She will be a star very soon (if she isn’t already).

Once again things go a bit hazy after this… I’m pretty sure that Architecture In Helsinki were very good, but by the time the Super Furry Animals headlined I was more interested in walking around the Garden of Lights or unnecessarily looking for more beer. Still, here’s Gruff Rhys’ collaboration with madman Boom Bip to make up for it.



Boom Bip & Gruff Rhys – Do’s & Don’t’s


Day three started for us with Euros Childs, formerly of Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci. He was the perfect start; silly but brilliantly talented and seemingly able to pluck tunes from thin air. His new album The Miracle Inn is out now.

A little later we headed over to watch Paris Motel, a band with a lot of annoyingly talented musicians who – to make things even worse – were also very, very good. They also looked great – surely Amy May was the only woman at the festival wearing a full length black ball gown. Apart from Stardust, of course. Their new album is also out very shortly.

My last treat of the weekend was Seasick Steve, who brought a little of Tennessee to Dorset, broke a couple of guitars (not in a rock ‘n’ roll way, they just broke because they were knackered) and even got a five minute singalong going with the audience. The crazy hillbilly.

All in all a very good weekend – a hearty well done to the organisers. Next year all it needs is a few more food stalls, a five star hotel for me and no rain whatsoever, and it will be simply perfect.


Crisp Debris


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