Change is a difficult thing to deal with for some. So when I rock up to my fourth End of the Road Festival to see an extension into a new area and a new main stage, I am not really sure what to think. Since 2008, this festival has held a special place in my heart, and as much of this festival’s magic lies in its intimacy, I initially feel a bit uncomfortable with this expansion. My friends and fellow EOTR regulars are dubious on their arrival too. But hey, I figure that a festival where the main headliner is one woman and her harp is hardly going to be a large corporate affair so I try to leave my worries behind.
After a bit of a lonely Wednesday night, my friends finally arrive on Thursday and the sun is beaming. The sun always seems to shine on End of the Road; I think Mother Nature must have good taste in festivals. Being in the unfortunate position of having extremely low sun tolerance however, tonight I leave the cider in my tent in favour of gallons of water. So a fairly quiet but nonetheless pleasant evening is spent catching up with friends and watching Herman Dune.
I am volunteering this year, which often has its pros and cons. In this case, the pros (free ticket, amazing free food) heavily outweigh the cons- which are missing Best Coast and tUnE-yArDs- (“best thing I’ve seen so far”- everyone. Thanks guys). So the first act I’ll see on the Friday is Lykke Li on the new ‘Woods’ stage. Thankfully, she gets the festival started in true style. Dressed like some sort of gothic princess, she throws her tiny frame across the stage with sweeping drama whilst frantically banging the drums. The set starts off in gentle brooding darkness, as she croons songs of melancholy, pouring her heart and soul out into the crowd in Sadness Is A Blessing. Eventually the set erupts into stomping fury with the feisty Get Some.
Headlining tonight is Beirut, and there’s clearly a lot of excitement in the air to see these guys. Not least from me, Gulag Orkestar is one of my favourite albums, and I’m intrigued to see how the orchestral sound translates into the band on stage. Turns out very well. They sound wonderful, magical even. Postcards From Italy sounds particularly charming and as the crowd all sway in unison and the fairy lights twinkle over the stage I am overwhelmed with joy. Other reasons to be cheerful include having bought a sequinned crop jacket with shoulder pads earlier in the day from a fabulous vintage stall. So time to celebrate! And where better than upon the flashing dance floor in the forest disco. Dancing amongst trees to UK garage, garage rock and every genre in between is definitely my idea of a good time.
Saturday starts, as any good day should, with some face painting (I opt for ‘tribal’), and a wander through the enchanted forest. Treefight For Sunlight start the day’s musical proceedings with a surprisingly worthy cover of Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights. Next up is Bob Log III. I saw him play this same festival two years ago, and I was left feeling confused, amused and utterly enthralled. So of course I want to see him again. Entering on stage in his trademark motorcycle helmet and a fetching blue velour cat suit with silver linings, the loud fast music and surreal banter culminate in a charming love song entitled ‘I Want Your Shit On My Leg’, performed with four girls sitting on his lap. Wonderful. After that I think we all need to calm down a bit, so we head to the idyllic Garden Stage to watch a solo Phosphorescent set, which sounds just lovely.
Just as I thought my day couldn’t get any more exciting, another of my friends arrives clutching a bottle of Skittle vodka, jumps on us, teaches us some ‘zumba’ moves, and before we know it, it’s time for Wild Beasts. When the ‘Oh-my-god-I-can’t-believe-they-weren’t-nominated-for-a-Mercury’ band come on stage they keep everyone’s feet dancing or at the very least their toes tapping, and needless to say we put our new zumba moves into practice. Fluctuating from crazed falsetto to soothing low mumblings, Wild Beasts deliver a wonderfully creative and virtuosic set.
And with a touch of M. Ward, a smattering of Mogwai, a good dose of booty shaking and a whole lot of laughter, Saturday night is over.
Sunday is pretty great food wise. A delicious flatbread pizza for lunch, and we hit our favourite food stall- Moorish for a dinner of a North African platter which is as pleasing on the eye as it is on the taste buds.
And yet, these aren’t even the highlights of the day. Incidentally, the highlight of the day, and probably my life- is spent in a trailer van in front of a camera. But more of that in a moment. Whilst having the obligatory morning face painting session (today I opt for ‘floral’), we watch Emmy The Great. Who, unfortunately doesn’t really live up to her name. The music is okay. There are moments of real promise- Dinosaur Sex and Iris sound pretty nice in the sunshine. But many of the lyrics sound a bit amateur, a bit teenage, and therefore a bit embarrassing. Not nearly half as embarrassing as her attempts at inter-song banter however, which is cringe-worthy, moronic and incredibly irritating, which just makes her set excruciating.
So onto that trailer van- and my chance for Hollywood stardom. All courtesy of a group called Videopia, who offer the frankly amazing opportunity to go and remake a condensed version of a classic film. We opt for Back To The Future. I bag the role of Marty Mcfly and we’re all given our costumes, props and lines. I can safely say that this is the best thing I have ever done with my life, even though doing it put my life in danger after nearly dying of laughter. (ATTENTION FILM DIRECTORS- the video will be online soon, so look out for it, and consider that I am currently looking for a job). Hollywood here I come.
Another adjustment to the festival is the extended comedy area, of which I can say I fully approve. My friend and I wander into a small tipi and take a seat on a rug. A very nice man approaches and softly whispers one of my favourite ever sentences; “Would you like a cup of tea?” As we sip our tea, we are treated to an acoustic singer and a lady telling an improvised story about a boy entering a secret door hidden in a tree. It feels like all the best bits of primary school. We all then exchange jokes and I wonder why life isn’t like this every day. After some futile attempts at juggling and successful attempts at making myself a new hat, we head back to the Woods stage to catch Tinariwen and Laura Marling.
It is during Laura Marling’s set that I truly start to appreciate the new stage. My doubts are slowly thwarted by the sheer quality of the stage’s acoustics. Every little sound is heard in crisp, clear purity, giving the gorgeous rich tones of Marling’s voice the best platform it could possibly have. Laura Marling is, as always, a real pleasure to watch. So I’m on board with the festival’s little makeover, as long this is the extent of its growth- any more, and it could lose its sparkle.
Oh dear. Looks like Mother Nature is in a huff. It’s raining. I hope she’s a fan of Joanna Newsom… Meanwhile, I catch a bit of John Grant and Darren Hanlon. And then as I head to the Woods stage to see Miss Newsom, it would appear that Mama N is a fan- it’s stopped raining, hurrah!
Joanna Newsom and her harp sit waiting to enchant us. Much like Iron & Wine last year, her gentle, sweet music silences the crowd. Everyone is stunned by this woman’s immense talent. The harp is a beautiful instrument, and seems like the only logical accompaniment to Joanna’s unusual childlike vocals, while the forest-like setting of the stage compliments her ethereal lyrics perfectly. She opens with the lovely Bridges and Balloons and an hour and a half set includes personal highlights Cosmia and The Book of Right On. The whole thing is beautifully captivating, and any fears I had of this festival losing its intimacy are disproved in this time. During the songs she embodies a medieval princess- enchanting and divine. Surprisingly then, in between songs she is disarmingly funny, sweet and down to earth. Surely the perfect combination on stage. “I want to be her friend” squeal my friend and I. When the set ends I sadly wonder where the time has gone. Even sadder is the following morning when I begrudgingly have to say goodbye to friends old and new and leave behind my favourite festival for another year.
