Festival Review: ATP Curated by Animal Collective - Saturday

After fuelling up on "The Best Full English Breakfast in Minehead" (fair claim, actually) down near the seafront, and trying our luck at the Bingo (never again will I be able to look at the numbers 8 and 2 together in either arrangement without thinking of Barry White, a duck, and some form of bestial activity) we set off for the Centre Stage for The Brothers Unconnected. The two remaining thirds of Sun City Girls played a no-holds-barred set whose topics encompassed murdering children, racial stereotypes and gallows humour (literally), although their in-between ramblings were arguably more entertaining than the songs themselves. Also offering up first-class entertainment over in Crazy Horse was comedian Matt Baetz. Cue plenty of back-and-forth banter between him and a couple of 10-year old kids on the front row (what responsible parents they must have), jokes about video game nostalgia and on-line dating, and the weekend's most astute observation ("I've heard about Butlins. This is not where the hipsters hang out").

We then set up stall at Centre Stage for pretty much the entire day for what was a back-to-back line-up of brilliant acts. First off the Meat Puppets (pictured right), now veterans of ATP, were in splendid form reeling off their classic third album Up On The Sun. Curt Kirkwood claimed that he couldn't even remember 1985, the year of the album's original release, but he had no problem recalling the twiddly solos of the source material. A rip-roaring reprise of the title track closed a vibrant and often aggressive take on a stoner-country-punk classic. Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti  (pictured below-left) followed. The first few songs were blighted by muddy sound, but a string of songs from last year's excellent Before Today brought the set to life, allowing the band to close out on a victory lap of older classics. Throughout the set Ariel, ever the oddball, skulked about the stage Quasimodo-style.

From there, the plan was to catch the Frogs over on Reds, but such was the brilliance of Beach House's set, the plan never reached fruition. I last saw Beach House - at this very location - three years ago, but the degree to which this band has grown in sound and confidence over that time cannot be overstated. The more dynamic sound of last year's Teen Dream hinted at a band breaking into the big leagues, and in front of an impressive crowd, majestic performances of 10 Mile Stereo and Silver Soul ensured they absolutely nailed it.

Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 are little more than a footnote in 90's U.S indie rock and the small crowd they were left with after the desertion of legions of satisfied Beach House fans suggests that's not likely to change anytime soon. That's a real shame, because their unashamedly erratic songs, replete with a three-pronged guitar attack (always favourable with me) are a storm live, even after years of inactivity, and the band surely deserve a place in the upper echelons besides Pavement, Built to Spill et al.

That left it up to Animal Collective (pictured top and below) to reel in the punters once more. With Josh "Deakin" Dibb back in the fold, the curators played a 90-minute set which leaned heavily on new material, but whenever they did roll into an oldie, the effect was akin to throwing a half-chewed bone to a pack of rabid animals; Brothersport in particular elicited a delirious response. The new material by-and-large sounded hugely impressive, leaning slightly back towards a more conventional approach with Panda Bear back behind a drum-kit, and both Avey and Deakin on guitars; a notable highlight was the massive rave-up halfway through the set. This is now the fourth time I've seen AC, and the balance between new and old material, as well as that between songs and jams has been completely different each time. Despite the exponential rise in their commercial status, it appears that AC's ability to confound and amaze remains reassuringly undiminished.

Review: Friday
Review: Sunday