Friday 12/05/06 All Tomorrow's Parties @ Pontins, Camber Sands

Friday:
Start on a positive note, we always say and so Mudhoney curate the first day of Weekend 1 of this years All Tomorrow’s Parties and your humble scribe and hardened veteran of this particular shindig would like to suggest that this is the worst day for ATP ever. No disrespect to our headliners but after several hours, it becomes impossible to differentiate between a kind of high octane grunge bar blues. We have The Scientists, The Drones, Flesh Eaters and Comets on Fire and quite frankly, we are thoroughly ****ed off at the sheer lack of eclecticism on display; something that ATP is becoming more and more guilty of promoting. The DJ’s later that evening are an afterthought - it's not that their bad and far from it- some truly great turbo kitsch takes over the downstairs bar at 3 in the morning (we do our work here - we do not sleep til Monday) but the same DJ’s play all 6 nights, which is a disgrace. Mudhoney chuck out a good set and truly play with force and fire but it just seems so dated, so unnecessary really. But, just for a healthy slice of total hypocrisy, Black Mountain. My god, what an incendiary monolithic totem pole of stoner rock they are. The most gargantuan, ocean quaking volume and a massive revelation- tonight, the Vancouver 5 tower over everyone else, triumphant and proud.

Saturday:
Sandblasted from mystical revelations on 6am sand dunes, Gigwise are somewhat delighted to find that Yeah Yeah Yeahs choices for day 2 include some bands that don’t actually sound the same as themselves. Imaginary Folk open the proceedings with violin and cello, banjo and mini disc player amongst other things. Completely improvised, they conjure up a brittle blizzard playing all parts of their instruments interspersed with bursts of 60’s pop amongst other things. They smile a lot and so do we. Then, oh grateful world, the weekend gets cranked up to supernova levels. Services are a duo, one drinking tea and looking like a member of the Village People working in an office, the other all New York punk cool. Over 40 minutes they tear the roof off the ****er with techno pulses, processed sampled sheet metal riffery and the greatest lyrics ever, screaming lines like “Take me back to the cemetery where I was buried/ AT ONCE”) over an electrosonic volcano. Magik Markers are avant-garde. Your hack knows his collapsed structures though and has omnipotent patience for structural extremes but this is shite. Captivated at first, boredom sets in after 2 minutes, anger after 5. This bunch turn up again next week just in case we had remembered how to smile again. Celebration disappoint, revealing themselves to be slightly weedy, organ driven indie pop, nothing special really, as do , tragically, TV On The Radio of whom we had great hopes. Admittedly, this was good space rock with Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone’s vocal swoops especially captivating but still, overall, just never gelling into something other than quite pedestrian. A fellow writer informs me they have shone much brighter than this in the past so we’ll put this one down to the day. Liars, well, what can you say? Liars inhabit their own world now- its hot as hell in here, packed and verging on unbearable (ATP please, why are they downstairs??) but no one is shifting. 'Drums Not Dead' gets a substantial airing and they perform and sound like nobody else. This is the most angular spectacle; harsh, uncompromising and entertaining. The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s are fine and grand but really, after Services and Liars, there’s no competition.

Sunday:
To paraphrase Nietzsche, stare too long into the abyss, and the beach starts to feel like your home. Sunburnt, exhausted to the point of extreme paranoia (you lot think this is easy?), Gigwise, homeless and hell, bound strap ourselves in for the days proceedings. But, we have a problem. Its folk day at the OK coral. Devendra Banhart day is far too folk orientated (no Ariel Pink, no Animal Collective- come on). This is the problem when you are just not in the mood. But, we persevere. Jandek is something like freeform improvised avant-blues and a truly incredible comet-like racket it is. We graciously acknowledge surprise, tip our hats and enjoy. Next up is Spleen, drafted in as a last minute replacement for Watts Prophets. They are staggering, truly awe inspiring. Information is non-existent but we think they may be Rob Ellis’ band (of PJ Harvey fame). Their dreadlocked singer would appear to be the most stoned man alive (no mean achievement in this place) who staggers across stage and collapses on a stool. Then, magic. This guy has a voice like no other- from wracked swoon to Louis Armstrong growl, he imitates the guitarists wah wah and makes scratching noises. He hits peaks, leaps around the stage and the band throw out a warped avant-funky blues anti-war prayer. Startling. Vashti Bunyan unfurls some charismatically beautiful folk but despite her legendary status, it just doesn’t impress as much as Spleen’s otherworldy blues. Just a case of wrong place wrong time today we feel. Devendra Banhart. No no no no no. We’re sorry, but no. There is no innovation, only reconstruction. Him and his band Hairy Fairy (is that a ****ing joke?) look like they’ve steeped straight off a commune and we’re just not buying it. John Martyn (for example) warped folk out of all recognition way back in 1971 so what is this silly twee nonsense all about? Barristers and spliffs probably. Animal Collective have absorbed folk but twisted it- made it shamanic and this is what was desperately needed tonight. A useless end to a not encouraging weekend.