After dreaming of strange peacocks and parrots, the sun wakes me on the Saturday morning of End of the Road.
The world and his wife/ girlfriend/ lifepartner seem to be cooking an array of fry-ups around my tent. I’ve never seen such elaborate breakfast practices at a festival. Well done. As for me, cup of tea and a slice.
The Cider bus is booming out all kinds of soul as the sun shines. Kids dance, couples nurse hangovers, and all seems right. Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings comes over the stereo- I have a bit of a dance myself. Then it’s on to Absentee, with their fuzzy slacker pop, into which they manage to slip in Grease lyrics. If you think a UK Silver Jews is a good idea, give their new record a try. I know I will.
Next up the Bowerbirds, whose beautifully understated album has been on constant repeat in my household for months. They don’t dissapoint, the fragile harmonies and the sparse instrumentation winning over many in the crowd. Noah and the Whale then bring their chart bothering summery pop back to End of the Road, having played at the first festival two years ago. Frontman Charlie joins the long list of bands to declare it their favourite festival, and having seen them walking around later on in the festival there seems every reason to believe him. The crowd listens intently, dancing here and there until monster hit ‘Five Years Time’ sees the entire crowd bob their head in unison.
Then it’s the return of End of the Road’s own ‘The Young Republic’, returning after wowing last years festival. To give them credit they have clearly moved on from the Belle and Sebastian meets shins sound of their debut. They’ve gained a harder edge, and greater stage presence, as the barnstorming ‘The Alchemist’ shows. Building into a frenzy the band stop, as violinist Kristin takes up the Violin guantlet thrown down by Warren Ellis the day before. And bassist Chris Miller takes up Ellis facial hair challenge, sporting some wonderfully maintained ginger muttonchops as he twists around the stage, feeling every word.
Fresh from playing his biggest show to date at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire, it is easy to believe that the crowd for Bon Iver at End of the Road is even bigger. For a man who recorded an album in the middle of the woods, the fetival seems the perfect setting for him, and he looks at home as he strolls out in a pair of stripy shorts. A few songs in and it is clear that he has something special, his distinctive voice ripping through ‘Skinny Love’ as the crowd hang on every hushed word. Justin himself seems almost overwhelmed by the response, but it appears that it is something he will have to get used to.
As dark begins to fall we take a walk through the woods, decked out with fantastic creatures and fairly lights. Following a path of lamps we stumble upon a fully lit up disco floor, flashing in time to a giant cartoon-like boombox (which turns out to conceal an ipod). Not one to pass up a chance of a dance, I strutted my stuff to some DFA before hitting the Bimble Inn to see The Acorn for the second time. Clearly I wasn’t the only one who had that idea, as people poured out the sides of the heaving tent. Despite only playing for half an hour, the band got the whole tent dancing, a mass of bodies moving to their insistent rhythms. Percussionist Shaun, charged with emotion after revealing that he, along with keyboardist Keiko would be leaving the band after the show, was a tour de force, at one point abandoning his kit to play the structure of the tent itself. When the band sweatily reveal they have some copies of the album to give away, a scrum ensued. It would be no surprise if they were playing much bigger stages in the near future.
Meanwhile, word begins to filter through that all is not well on the main stage, where quite introspective gloom-mongers Low have apparently thrown their guitar, hammer-style into the middle of the audience. Luckily no one was hurt, but for the rest of the festival it seems to become the ‘did you see that’ moment.
With Mercury Rev twinkling pompously on the mainstage, it was a joy to stumble upon Mark Kozalek and Sun Kil Moon, his haunting voice as chilling as the night air. Without realizing an hour passes, and I stumble mesmerized out of the tent.
To round off the day on a less melancholy note its over to the Bimble inn, where various members of British Sea Power, Brakes, Tenderfoot and Actress Hands play Jonathan Richman Covers until 3am in honour of the fact that Eamon of Brakes is having his wedding reception on the festival site!
‘There’s a party in the woods’ indeed.
