The Camden Crawl 2012 - Review (Saturday)

The cold wet streets of Camden are awash with drunken hordes tonight, but that’s just a typical weekend here. Thrown into that mix is a bunch of wristband wearing music seekers who are staggering their way between the pubs, clubs and venues of north London’s pleasure streets. Yes, you know it can only be the Camden Crawl.

The legendary multi-venue multi-gig festival may be the oldest swinger in town these days, imitated by many others that have arguably become more prestigious (Brighton’s Great Escape now lays claim to being the UK’s biggest and best of these sorts) but the Camden Crawl still packs some weight. Maybe it’s because of expert advance planning, maybe because of the double-dip recession or maybe that this year’s bill doesn’t hold so many must-sees as previous years, but the criticisms past of over long queues and crammed in likes sardines venues don’t transpire.

“This is really unhealthy to be playing this early,” announces frontman Denis Smith of Imperial Leisure for their 1pm set in The Wheelbarrow. You wouldn’t think it though. The 8-piece, brass wielding band may be crammed on to a tiny stage but they give it everything. It may be as subtle as a Katie Price underwear photo shoot, but their mix of sweaty shouty ska-rap-rock mix goes down a treat, especially with the two loons dressed as dancing monkeys po-going in the front row.

Up at the other end of town hard-touring Peace take to the stage and look every ounce the indie band. There are floppy fringes, fur collars, leather jackets, converse boots, skinny jeans and pale boyishness a-plenty and some half decent tunes that flourish with a crowd that is not yet too drunk to pay attention. They’re followed by Elle King who imports her songs about heartbreak, love and crap towns in Ohio with gravelly country vocals, banjos and trumpet sounds and who is gorgeously affecting.

Destroying the ideology of the Camden Crawl, a short bus ride rather than a long walk takes us to Koko where The Milk are packing as much as they can into their day with three shows. With this half hour set they’re like DJ’s with guitars – there’s no break for applause, just a continuous stream of music until the end. The Milk can play. They don’t need to soak their sound in reverb to hide their inadequacies like so many bedroom groups today. Instead there’s tight playing and great songs full of call and response vocals, slabs of 60’s r ‘n’ b influences and straining soul. Their best song Chip The Kids doesn’t even get an airing and yet they still sound on top of their game.

The Crawl is not all about indoor gig venues though. Camden Gardens hosts the Red Bull Bedroom Jam Outdoor Arena whilst down at the Roundhouse a tiny dome canopy has been erected on the outside terrace. It’s here amongst the palms, patio stonework and over large sunshade that the Melodica Melody and Me coax the sun out for a short while with their twee folk sound and We Were Evergreen charm with cute xylophone led French pop melodies. However by the time it’s over it’s become as cold as Christmas and the warmth of a grotty Camden boozer seems very welcome.

It’s at the Monarch where we get a dose of Lo(ish)-Fi  indie guitar work from Fear of Men. Vocalist Jess sings some lazy but lovely pop melodies like The Primitives or The Shop Assistants with slippers on and it’s all quite pleasantly appealing. The addition of a new female backing vocalist fleshes out the bands nostalgic sound somewhat and it’s only a lack of interaction with the audience that lessens the groups regency a little.

By now things are starting to get a little messy and Polarbear, Brum’s answer to Scroobius Pip, has to battle with the chattering drunk masses in the Earl of Camden. There may not be a raised stage but Polarbear creates one with a mix of spoken word, beats and on one track the use of the word bum-hole repeatedly. Giving out free records to the crowd and taking the p*ss out of MC’s who rap about girls “when technically they’re women,” he’s funny and endearing. His rhymes about teenage snogging in the park perfectly capture the excitement and confusion of a first kiss, his words strangely romantic and evocative.

There’s a gaggle of girls at the front for Swiss Lips (yes, it’s slang for vagina) whose short, sweet , synthy set shows a band with much promise - file under ones to watch. The band might be from Manchester but their sound doesn’t take any reference from their home cities past. Instead there are hints of Fenech Soler, The Killers, MGMT, The Bravery and Passion Pit in their catchy sound. “We’ve never seen so much movement in a London crowd,” they announce. They’re lucky to get that, some people here can hardly stand up let alone move.

Willy Moon finishes us off for the evening and the hope is he’ll answer some of the questions we’ve been asking about him, namely is he a one-trick pony? Is it all clever studio trickery? Is he actually some sort of record industry in joke?

With his sharp white suit and slicked back hair, Moon and his band look like they’ve stepped straight out of a magazine photo shoot. His guitarist is a seductively vampiric looking lady and behind them is a legs-apart-hit-‘em-hard drummer in space age bra-top and black and white striped trousers. Hidden away in the corner is a DJ who seems to have forgotten to dress for the occasion and maybe as punishment his sounds seem somewhat turned down in the mix. Moon’s studio releases to date have found a niche that mixes 50’s rock-n-roll with daft hip hop beats. Live his set is rawer, rougher and leaves us as perplexed as we were at the beginning of his set. My Girl sounds like a potential hit in the making whilst Yeah Yeah predictably gets the biggest audience response. He walks into the crowd, does some of THAT crazy dancing. It’s momentarily ridiculous and brilliant and by the end we’re still none the wiser if his blend of retro-modern cartoon pop is genius or rubbish. It’s probably a bit of both.

Listen to some of the bands mentioned in this review below.

Elle King - Good To Be A Man

Fear Of Men - Green Sea



Swiss Lips - Grow

Blissfields 2009

Following the unsuccessful attempt to change venue and step up from an event of around one thousand capacity to five thousand with subsequent cancellation due to poor ticket sales in 2008, Blissfields 2009 returned back to its roots, down at Bradley Farm in Hampshire. This year however Blissfields sold out weeks in advance. With headliners Super Furry Animals playing their smallest festival of their year and Mercury nominated and Breaking More Waves approved Laura Marling appearing on Friday night, organisers Paul and Mel Bliss served up aces on a weekend when Britains tennis hero Andy Murray failed to do so at Wimbledon. Added to these headliners were a variety of other bands and DJ's, including Breaking More Waves very own alter ego comedy DJ persona HoJo Hits supplying some slices of musical mature cheddar interspersed with the occasional of the moment big synth pop tune (Yes Giantess, La Roux, Passion Pit) to a relaxed chilled crowd who lapped up the sun at the main stage. Here’s DJ Hojo Hits daring to play Hansons Mmm Bop.

This year Blissfields welcomed punters to the ‘United States Of Bliss’, from entry onto the site with signs stating ‘Border control, please have your papers ready,’ to the camp site which was labelled the ‘Shanty Town.’ The festival even had its own president who was elected by way of a competition prior to the event and its own national anthem which was played out at the opening of the main stage each day. Then at the end of it all, a so called ‘Ambassadors Party’ was held in the big top with the eclectic Bestival / Sunday Best residents Sombrero Sound System and DJ Little Chief bringing the house down with a bunch of big old party anthems, whilst in between Beans On Toast brought his gravel clawed voice, acoustic guitar and songs about festivals, MDMA and Laura Marling to an appreciative crowd, complete with a stage invasion at the end.

So what of the live music highlights ? On Friday night the main stage belongs to Mumford and Sons and Beans On Toast favourite girl Laura Marling. Mumford and Sons play as the sun sets and the site turns into a romantic twilight haze lit by the moon, trails of lights marking pathways through the campsite and a few carefully considered spotlights. Marcus Mumford charms by explaining that he didn’t understand why there was so much disappointment when Blissfields was cancelled last year, but now he does. There is a real glow from the bands set, their sound unhindered by fashion; it pulls at the heartstrings. There is a tendency for the songs to be formulaic based around simple acoustic guitar and banjo building with a swell as kick drums take the songs rolling forward, but it's a formula that works. With the bands harmonies and bluegrass sound Mumford and Sons win many new fans at Blissfields and are probably the highlight for many. Half of the group then remain on stage to accompany Laura Marling who has grown massively in confidence since we first saw her about two years ago. Playing a mix of songs from her debut album Alas I Cannot Swim and new songs such as Hope In The Air, Marlings voice seems to be maturing, less girlish and more rasping and hearty; the sound of American country / folk played by a girl from Reading, England.

On Saturday three bands define the festival. Imperial Leisure first wowed Blissfields in 2007 and return as triumphant heroes, pulling one of the biggest crowds of the day, their energetic blend of rock, rap and ska skanking like Rage Against The Machine sparring with The Specials. From the word go the audience are in the palm of their lairy sweaty hands, their punchy brass and adrenalin soda fizz exertion creating a bouncing bottle of an audience that almost explodes with too much shaking. You can’t see the band in this video, but an audience reaction says it all.

“Last weekend we were at Glastonbury and it was too much like hard work,” announce Subgiant , echoing the thoughts of a number of punters at Blissfields. Subgiant are almost on home turf here, having been a Blissfields favourite and regular for some time now. Occupying the same sunset stage time as Mumford And Sons the day before, Subgiant bring samples and beats so large that we swear we feel the earth below our feet vibrating. A hedonistic warm old school festival vibe sweeps over Blissfields as bleeps and electronic riffs build and rise, strobes flash wildly, electronic drums pound and hands are raised in the air. Dancing outside has never been so much fun.

The final highlight comes from Super Furry Animals. Just last month we reported on their performance at Wychwood 2009 and suggested that they failed to move or engage. Tonight with a radically revamped set list SFA show us exactly why they have remained an essential part of the UK music scene, with their unconventional approach to song writing, ability to pen flawless pop songs, fine beards and sense of humour. “This is a live show just in case you thought you were watching the TV,” announces Gruff Rhys at one point. Later he gets the crowd to turn to the moon and howl at it. The songs they play have a spliffed out psychedelic oddness and inventiveness, but the band are never afraid to create just plain old infectious pop such as on Golden Retriever, which they dedicate to the kennels next to the festival site. Super Furry Animals are a fitting end to the main stage and whilst they may still not be a band we can adore, our admiration has been significantly increased.

Blissfields is the antithesis of corporate festival monsters such as Reading, Isle Of Wight and V Festival. It has a laid back, good natured feel that is suited to both young and old alike. With no over zealous security, lots of smiling faces, a site so small that it takes only five minutes to get anywhere, and this year a number of artists who gave excellent performances, Blissfields has firmly reasserted itself on the independent festival map following its stumble in 2008.

And to finish this review of Blissfields 2009 here’s a little more of our very own DJ set from a pod next to the main stage. Sun, dancing, and a bit of Wham. See you there next year maybe ?