Blissfields - Bradley Farm, Arlesford - 6-8/7/07
4/5
By: Various Scribes
Frankly, I find it difficult not to become rather grumpy about festivals. Obviously I love the chance to see lots of (hopefully) great bands in one place, but this clear benefit is easily overshadowed by endless corporate sponsorship, bullied-at-school security, and hideously overpriced beer.
Imagine my joy, therefore, to have found a festival so perfect that it may just be my favourite weekend of the year. Blissfields is a tiny affair, cosseted away in the depths of the countryside outside Basingstoke, Hampshire. In fact, the site basically seems to be the back garden of the organisers, Paul and Mel Bliss. The inescapable first impression this surreal little place gives off is of a village fete set to music, with an endlessly fascinating mixture of ageing hippies, sixth-form scenesters, and local families.
My first Blissfields experience occurred three years ago, when I found myself arriving with a band that, by rights, were far too big to be playing what was essentially a garden party. The festival has expanded since then; attendance this year was reportedly just shy of 2000, but the atmosphere is pretty much identical. Toddlers toddle around the front of the stage, and attendees enjoy locally-brewed ales in the sun. Blissful.
One of the most notable differences this year was the increasingly noteworthy line-up. In previous years the bill has been filled pretty much exclusively with local bands but this, the seventh instalment of the festival, featured some names in ascendancy. The big draw for many was Kid Harpoon; his appearance, however, was ironically not to be, as he pulled out at the last minute in favour of a slot at T In The Park. He was not badly missed, however, as the crowd were treated (and occasionally subjected) to an interesting mix of acts. Friday night was purely acoustic, the only notable occurrence being Nigel Clark's semi-acoustic set (yes, him of Baby Bird and 'You're Gorgeous' fame) in support of his debut solo record. His is a particularly inoffensive brand of the usual singer-songwriter fayre, beefed up by a very tight band.
It was Saturday, however, when the music began in earnest. In true festival tradition the main stage was opened by a competition-winner; in this case it was the winner of the previous night's very well-attended open mic. The remainder of the line-up was pretty hit-and-miss. On the one hand we were offered the dubious honour of watching more than one local covers band. However, the butchering of several Waterboys songs was excused as we were later treated to a number of fantastically unexpected treats.
First off, anyone who resides around the south coast could not fail to have encountered the spectacular Dead! Dead! Dead! They play cathartic, fit-inducing post-punk, occasionally flavoured with a tinge of post-hardcore and always wearing its kookiness on its sleeve. 'Salad Depot' sees frontman Neil complaining about those who 'piss away their time in the most unimaginative way'; no such problems onstage, as they terrify the kids and bemuse the locals by wheeling on a gong, bashing it once and then kicking it over, while their fantastic drummer plays and drinks simultaneously.
Enjoy Destroy hail from around Basingstoke, and took to the main stage earlier in the day. Fresh from playing the same bill as Aerosmith at Hyde Park, this sprightly bunch are beginning to reap the benefits of playing virtually every night; they are fantastically tight. Enjoy Destroy play the 21st Century equivalent of '80s stadium rock. It is unashamedly poppy, and all of the elements are there for a stratospherically huge band: they are accessible, not in the least bit mentally taxing, and nice to look at.
Which brings us nicely onto Rival Joustas. This is a band who have made their name almost entirely on the strength of their live shows, which inevitably see lead singer Thom Henley throwing himself into all sorts of unnatural shapes and, frequently, into the crowd. Indeed this was the case today, with his impossibly energetic antics further confusing the less musically aware in the audience. Tracks like 'Clarity' are built around ridiculously meaty riffing while Henley has some sort of psychotic episode, while latest single 'The Masquerade' is slightly more lyrical. Rival Joustas are a difficult band to categorise; their influences are well-defined but varied (think Bloc Party doing an impression of Led Zeppelin covering At The Drive-In), and there is something distinctly uncool about the whole affair. I have seen Rival Joustas several times, but I'm still yet to 'get it'. They have some exciting elements, but seem not to have progressed past the stage of an 'ideas' band; they have some undeniably great riffs, but songcraft seems to be lacking. The band were let down by horrendous sound, but one still can't escape the feeling that there is something fundamental missing - that, perhaps, if they put as much passion into their songwriting as they do into their performance then they could be something special, but that this is still some way off.
An important new facet of this year's Blissfields was the addition of a second stage. The Stage Bus is literally that: a stage built into the side of a bus. It travels from festival to festival, and was accommodating some Blissfields stalwarts this year. Some of the acts here were truly, eye-gougingly appalling; Meninshortz play Police covers badly and all look like Peter Hook dancing inappropriately at his daughter's wedding. On any other occasion this would have irked me considerably, but even Meninshortz couldn't spoil the glorious atmosphere.
On a more musically positive note, the Stage Bus also played host to the fabulous Pistola. I wasn't filled with confidence watching them set up; the frontman looked as if he had just flown in from Seattle circa 1997. One song in, though, and it isn't hard to realise that Pistola are a fantastically exciting prospect. Sounding a bit like Oceansize covering Sonic Youth, from the outset I was kicking myself that I hadn't seen them before. They are a trio of consummate musicians, with a guitarist whose reference points seem to flit between Johnny Greenwood and Jeff Tweedy. They hardly say a word onstage, but their bassist stands beaming through the whole set. The size of the scrum for free CDs afterwards is as good an indication as any that this is certainly a band to keep an eye out for.
Saturday night saw Blissfields drawing to a close, and the line-up was suitably unpredictable. As dusk settled the ominously-named Plastic Toys took to the stage, and proceeded to play some of the most offensively horrendous music I have ever heard. Imagine My Chemical Romance playing at Chinawhites - really unattractively sleazy.
Apparently as an antidote to this, Radio 1 darlings Scouting For Girls then treated us to a selection of their popular hits. Or it could well have just been the one hit that they played twelve times - they were so indistinguishable from one another that I sort of lost track of when one song finished and the next one started. Dull.
Finally, though, the fantastic Subgiant came on to finish up proceedings. Subgiant manage to meld trip-hop with dubstep, old-skool house with Squarepusher-esque bleeps, all held down by live drum and bass and a fantastic scratch DJ. They drew by far the biggest crowd of the weekend, all of whom danced like their lives depended on it.
Blissfields is an impossible event to categorise. Is it a garden party? Is it a village fete with music? I personally think that it is one of the most exciting small festivals around. It will be moving site next year in order to accommodate a larger capacity, and if they can whittle away the less desirable elements of the line-up while still maintaining the sense that Blissfields is one big family of musicians and volunteers then next year's Blissfields could certainly be the start of something unique.
All photographs copyright Alex Flahive, 2007. View the full set HERE.
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