There were sometimes this summertime when you’re caring, sharing Pandaman was getting a bit fretful about the festival circuit, I’ll be frank with you. Is it too big? Is it too small? Will the girls like this? Will the girls like that? That’s for another day. Recently, many’s the time we have been standing in the middle of a field thinking that line-up is a bit TOO old, or that crowd is a bit TOO young…all of a sudden, for the first year ever the aging, raging Pandaman was thinking perhaps his time is done with the whole festival caper. Like a tiny man in a very large suit, nothing fitted anymore.
And then he got invited to End Of The Road in downtown Dorset. The rumours had been strong: for years, reliable musical friends had been enthusing about a last live retreat for the lost gigging generation, and for years those musical friends had been spot on. End Of The Road really is at the end of a long and winding road – not least if you’re surfing cross country from Suffolk – but it really is a fantastical place once you get there.
The 13,000 capacity means it is as buzzily intimate as a frontline festival can get; the stages are within ambling distance of eachother, with no rivers to cross or weary hillocks to navigate; the campsite is over there, the Badger Inn is over here, the Bear Tavern is by the Big Tent; the night is young, the mood is mellow and there is generally excellent music in the air. All middle class virtues considered, the double decker Routemaster bus serving cups of tea is scarcely a surprise. All we need is Paddington Bear compèring the main stage and the 6music dad vibe would be complete.
The live acts are a suitably pickled slew of hipster comforts and leftfield lurchings delivering an admirably eclectic array of indie Indian summer soundtracking. A pleasingly muscular ANGEL OLSEN seals the deal with an impeccable version of ‘Without You’ (the Nilsson version, not the scary Carey one, thank you kindly), while Welsh melody tyros CVC deliver their mid-afternoon slot with impeccable silliness, mixing respectful retro rock with japes and disco covers. Even Canadian creatives CRACK CLOUD come join the party with a charmingly furious ability to walk The Walkmen walk.
Few can compete with THE MARY WALLOPERS for gallopingly grand festival fun though, not least thanks to their impressive ability to swing from sweary Pogues-style comedic outbursts to utterly respectful traditional Irish songs within a sip of Guinness (other Emerald Isle cliches are available, but we can’t be bothered). They get some of the giddiest dancing of the weekend, which is saying something when WET LEG make a raucous special guest appearance supporting a suitably fruity FUTURE ISLANDS on the Saturday night.
On a rather less giddy level, the biggest tip-off of the festival are CAROLINE, a South London ensemble who manage to lose half an eagerly expectant crowd by opening with what appears to be a very, very slow bass solo. Excellent behaviour, obviously, and the eight piece continue in a languid post-folk-rock style in the afternoon sunshine until some kinda slow-moving peak is reached. GREENTEA PENG, FLOHIO, SAMIA, PVA, CASS MCCOMBS and KOKOROKO all pass by on various stages in varying degrees of festival haziness, but our final word goes to HIGH VIS headlining The Folly with a rowdy and raucous take on potent post-punk.
There’s a lot of it about, natch, but what makes High Vis stand out like a, well, high vis jacket at a Goth convention are some of the most spectacularly coy guitar twirls – courtesy of Rob Hammeran – this side of a Chameleons b-side, dovetailing splendidly with frontman Graham Sayle’s Scouse yellings. Really excellent musical magick, and definitely some kind of festival rescue for a previously flailing Pandaman.
One act we don’t spy at End Of The Road is DOLORES FOREVER, but surely it’s just a matter of time before they get to join the Dorset set. Headlining Oslo in London Town, Hannah and Julia – for ’tis they – have been lurking in the background writing pop bangers for other people, but they are now working together in electric dreams. Actually, they aren’t particularly electronic, but they are eclectic and relentless and propulsive and heaps of fun.
Wet Leg can keep their Harry Stylings – back in the day the Spice Girls would have begged Dolores Forever to tour with them. Would they have said yes? Who could say. What we do know is this one bouyant double act with indietastic guitar and growling bass and a flash of Fleetwood Mac and a vamoosh of Voice of the Beehive and a dash of that cheerily anarchic Bananarama vibe. Just don’t call them baby, but remember this: “Shut up and eat the pasta…because in this band we believe in carbo diem”.
Bless.
PANDAMAN’S 2023 PERFORMANCE TOTAL: 302
