Although the festival starts around 1pm, I don't actually get to any of the venues until around 3.30 as there wasn't really any bands I wanted to see before that. I start off at The Ritz because I want to watch The Murlocs. At these things, it's usually a good idea to get at the venues early to make sure you see the bands you really want to see. At the Psych Fest, there are so many bands playing which overlap or clash, and it means that there are choices to be made.
I catch the last ten minutes of Jeffrey Lewis & The Voltage playing a rather different type of set. He is running through a history of Lower East Side punk rock from the fifties to the mid seventies where he talks about key artists in particular years and then covers a seminal track. I catch the years 1967 to 1976 which means covers of The Velvet Underground, David Peel, The Stooges, Patti Smith, New York Dolls and Richard Hell. A whole lot of fun.
The Murlocs start off sounding like a garage version of The Knack's 'My Sharona'. It's pretty good but midway through the opener they suddenly set the controls for the sun. The energy and intensity is completely dialled up and it is staggering. They have a big rock energy which reminds me of their fellow countrymen Jet. The psych country swagger of new track 'Russian Roulette' is excellent, whilst the barroom honky tonk of 'Initiative' gets peoples hips moving. They have a Stooges feel On 'Wickr Man'. 'Subsidiary' rocks out like 'Paranoid' whilst frontman Ambrose Kenny-Smith draws energy from the pogoing crowd. 'Bobbing And Weaving' is compact and dynamic. Overall, it's an absolutely exhilarating set, but the second half of it is particularly high octane.
I decide to stay in the same venue to watch New York's Bodega. They play quirky, danceable alt rock reminiscent of The B52's. Heavily percussive, they are energetic and great fun. The terrific 'How Did This Happen!?' showcases their punk side. A new track from the forthcoming album takes the band down a darker post-punk trip. They even cover a Fugazi song although I couldn't tell you which one. The brilliant 'Statuette On The Console' is punk rock with a motorik pulse. 'Truth Is Not Punishment' is stretched out into an extended punk funk wig out, which is entrancing. They even take a request and play 'Jack In Titanic'. Excellent stuff.
Having learned a lesson from last year when I crashed and burned earlier than expected, I thought it would be a good idea to have a rest and a bite to eat because I had a late night ahead of me. However, this is where things start to go wrong. The plan was to go and see Say She She but I got to Canvas about 15 minutes before they were due on stage to find a humongous queue and it was a policy of one out, one in. A shame because they were one of the bands I wanted to see the most.
Disappointed, I head to the YES basement to wait for Memorials. They essentially play soundtrack music which covers many musical styles. They start with ambient industrial drone with waves of noise pulsing back and forth, although the vocals aren't great which takes you a little out of the moment. Their sound is hard to pin down because it covers so many genres. On one song they sound like Stereolab but another track is more jazz with psych touches. They are pretty good but they are probably a little too eclectic for their own good. They mess up during one of their more pastoral folk songs and have to start again. They revert back to drone, with jazzy touches provided by saxophone, which is then pitched up to a dance beat, and this is by far the highlight of the set. A bit of a mixed bag really.
I then go upstairs to watch Just Mustard. I was really looking forward to watching them because their 'Heart Under' album is great. However, from the start they sound flat. The vocals seem too low in the mix. The guitar picking and effects are interesting though (some bits sound like 'Popcorn'). What is captivating and draws you in on record just doesn't connect the same way live and it leaves me cold. The heavier tracks still work though, even if the vocals seem too delicate to cut through the noise. About four tracks in, it starts doing what it should. The bass resonates through the venue and they start to conjure an atmosphere akin to Chelsea Wolfe or A.A. Williams. They don't maintain this however and it reverts back to the same level of disconnect. Things aren't helped by the atmosphere. There is a bit of aggro down towards the front, no doubt fuelled by a long day of drinking. Dismayed, I decide to cut my losses and walk down to The Deaf Institute to watch Magick Mountain instead.
Leeds' Magick Mountain play deliciously fuzzy grunge/stoner rock. They sometimes have a Mudhoney feel with their discordant, grungy punk. It's a basic, simple formula but it is pretty good. Their cover of Neil Young's 'Cinnamon Girl' is ok but original material like 'The Shitty Beatles' is probably more successful.
This signals the end of the festival for me. Not because I'm tired (even though I am) or because the festival is over (bands are playing right up until 4am), but because I have a midnight King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard to get to.
Jeffrey Lewis & The Voltage ****
The Murlocs *****
Bodega ****
Memorials ***
Just Mustard ***
Magic Mountain ***
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