Song, by Toad

On Sunday I awoke feeling rather less groggy than the previous day, presumably owing to the lack of that marvelous late-night tequila/pink champagne combo. To further cement their legendary status, my splendid tent neighbours provided both bacon sarnies and tea when I dragged my freezing arse out of my tent in the morning. I could have married them, and their friend Ian and their silly lavender coloured VW camper all at once for that act of charity. Lovely, lovely people.

I scarpered up to the main stage to start the day on the Sunday. On the back of the festival, Simon has formed End of the Road Records to champion some of the splendid groups he came across in setting the thing up, and on Sunday there was something of a showcase of the people he signed.

Port O’Brien: Confident and entertaining, these lads play a kind of dusty West Coast Americana that can be sad and can be a full-on rock out. They went down so well they could barely dig up enough CDs after the gig to satisfy all the eager punters, which was brilliant to see.
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Port O’Brien – Five & Dime
The Young Republic: This was a cracking set. I actually enjoyed it far more than their performance the day before because they pretty much played all my favourite songs. They clatter along when they get going, these fellas, with a brand of rock ‘n’ roll country music meets film score that takes them through the genres at a frightening pace. They adjusted seamlessly to playing the big stage, and if you can catch them supporting My Brightest Diamond on her current UK tour then I highly recommend it. I had the opportunity to interview them afterwards as well, which was excellent fun – had The Wave Pictures not been on at four then it could have gone on for hours.
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The Young Republic – She’s Not Waiting Here This Time

The Wave Pictures: Brilliant – these guys are so relaxed and affable on stage they come across as a slapdash pub band who accidentally happened to be extraordinarily gifted. It’s about the most unpolished sound in indie at the moment, but they had a hardcore group of fans who knew ever single song, which they played on request basis. Just signed to a small label and with a new album release hopefully on the horizon, these lads truly are excellent. Difficult in some ways – Dave doesn’t exactly boast popular music’s most mellifluous voice – but excellent nevertheless.
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The Wave Pictures – When I Leave You For Somebody Else

Johnny Flynn & the Sussex Wit: Another superb performance. This is the new sound of English folk at its finest. Wistful and contemplative one minute, then foot-stampingly infectious the next. I knew a few of Mr. Flynn’s songs beforehand, but he played plenty more that I loved during the set which bodes very, very well for future album possibilities. Quite excellent.
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Johnny Flynn & the Sussex Wit – Leftovers

Paris Motel: Everyone has an image in their heads of the band on the Titanic playing as the ship tragically sank (although when it took that prick Leonardo Di Crappio with it, it somehow seemed rather less tragic I thought). Well, this lot are a bit like the band on the Marie Celeste. Spooky, slightly magical tales that can come across as macabre old fairytales, mix with sea shanties and old-fashioned laments to create a truly amazing atmosphere. Their formal dress makes it even more so, with the gorgeous Amy May in her plain black evening dress leading proceedings, although any pomposity is instantly diffused by her self-deprecating and humorous manner. I loved this set, truly exceptional, and their album is out on Loose on the 1st of October I believe. Buy it, honestly do.
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Paris Motel – City of Ladies

Charlie Parr: A classic, bearded old bluesman, with rich deep voice, beard and scruffy demeanour. He plucked at his guitar, invited us all to visit him in Duluth, Minnesota and played half a dozen songs written whilst thinking about his dad. I know absolutely nil about this gentleman I’m afraid, so you’re on your own exploring his stuff. Let me know how you get on.
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Charlie Parr – Worried Blues

Howe Gelb: One of my musical heroes and one I came within a whisker of being able to interview for Song, by Toad. Rats, bollocks. Anyhow, his set was just like his music: meandering, explorative and prone to following whatever train of thought kidnapped it at the time. Gelb is a serial collaborator with his records, and the show was much like that as well. He called all sorts of other musicians on to help him perform, bringing an ad hoc, friendly tone to the show. None of this veneer of ‘performance’, just a load of people sharing music together. Superb.
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Howe Gelb – Felonious

Lambchop: Not a natural headline act, one might think, with their hushed, delicate country music perhaps far too quiet for this kind of slot – traditionally a rowdy celebration of three days of hedonistic excess. Or so you’d think. Actually they played their set with much more vim than you’d generally hear on record, and they ended with the glorious crowd-pleaser, with absolutely everyone coming on stage to provide the fantastic choral climax. Brilliant.
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Lambchop – Let’s Go Bowling