Just don't let the music stop
Aug. 1st, 2013 10:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaAt the weekend I went to Indietracks, the tiny indiepop festival held at the site of a preserved steam railway in Derbyshire. I've never been before.
And, do you know what? I really, really enjoyed it. And as a result, I'm going to write about it in excruciating detail. Read at own risk.
Friday
The Tuts, Bis
Late afternoon, we galloped off up the M1, and after a bit of light map confusion managed to land ourselves at the intended location. Um, this doesn't look like a festival. It looks like a car park, with a teeny tiny station next to it. Not a sign, not a tent in sight. Not a note to be heard. Not a festival.
Oh wait, we're meant to get on the train? Ah. Yes. We are at Butterley station, where the car park is. The festival is at Swanwick Junction, which is a few minutes along the line behind a preserved diesel engine. When do the trains run? Well, they kind of leave when they seem to have about enough people to be worth it. We hopped on.
And we chatted to a family (mum, dad, toddler) in the carriage while we waited. Then a bunch of people wandered past, and we hailed Simon among them, and caught up with him for a while. Then we got off at Swanwick Junction, and ran into CLARE![*], who came bounding over to hug us both. And![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zenithed turned out to be sitting exactly where he said he would be with a bunch of his friends... All in all, it looked to be shaping up to be a good weekend.
We bought excellent curry from a stall, and headed down to the main stage to watch The Tuts. Oh, and I got very excited to discover that the bar was actually a big scaffolding structure full of promising-looking barrels. They had about four or five beers on the go at any one time, opening a new barrel as another ran out. Which meant every time I went to the bar, I could be excited all over again at the new range of beers on offer.
Friday-night headliners were Bis, whom I've never been that keen on. Or, as they are correctly known, BisFromGlasgowScotland (or, possibly, as they are better known "the people who did the theme for the animated series of The Power Puff Girls"). All I really think of when someone says Bis is the cartoon-scream style of Kandy Pop, which is a bit wearing. Of course, there are two (verging on three) singers in Bis, and taken as a whole they are really not that screamy. Anyway, I jumped up and down and sang along and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Afterwards, the second stage (also known as the Indoor stage or, more usefully, the engine shed) started up with DJs, and we ran in delightedly to dance to Baxendale and Tullycraft. And then realised that the trouble with DJs who play obscurities you love is that they also play obscurities you've never heard of. Lots of 'em :) Some injudicious early dancing right under a speaker sent me to lurk at the back until my poor ears got over it all.
Outside, chatting to people and admiring the colourfully floodlit freight wagons, we were commenting that we were unlikely to get the sort of random weirdness you get at larger festivals. At which point a bunch of people walked past carrying owls.
Like, actual owls. And a Harris hawk. Did we want to stroke them? No problem. Where were they going? To the bar, because the bar staff wanted to see them. It turns out a local owl and parrot rescue centre had a bunch of birds on display - all bred-in-captivity, unwanted pets they've taken on - which are happy to be patted and fussed over. And taken to bars.
Saturday
[Northern Spies], Finnmark!, Jupiter in Jars, Tunabunny, [Pale Spectres], The Understudies, Milky Wimpshake, When Nalda Became Punk, [Secret History], [McTells], [The Wave Pictures], Cars Can Be Blue, [The Pastels], The Brilliant Corners, Camera Obscura
If you're reading that list and thinking "who?" then don't worry about it. Wikipedia quotes the Grauniad as describing bands who play Indietracks as "so obscure you have to wonder if they've even heard of themselves". I'd heard of barely any of them, but fortunately Indietracks is aware of this, and they produce a compilation to introduce their line up. I recommend it if you like indiepop, or want to know what indiepop is. A measly £2 to download, or free to stream if you can tolerate Bandcamp's lack of volume control.
If you look at the stage times, you'll see a line up for the Outdoor stage, one for the Indoor stage, one for the Church, and one for Trains. The church really is a church - a transported tin tabernacle rebuilt on the museum's site. And the trains really are trains. It brings a whole new meaning to the idea of catching a band. On Saturday morning, we hopped on the train[**] at Butterley, and revelled in our first class compartment all the way to Swanwick Junction where Northern Spies got on. Sadly, they got on at the guard's van end. And so did all their fans. Meaning by the time we'd pottered down the train the van was packed out, roastingly hot, and we were too far away to hear an unamplified band. After a while, we gave up and sat further along the carriage, sharing a table with a nice chap from Sheffield.
Y'see, Indietracks isn't so much a festival as a meeting of a small and indiepop-loving club. It'd almost be a clique, only it's the friendliest clique imaginable. And it's such a tiny event, that you will keep running into the same people. So having made a new friend from Sheffield, we sporadically compared notes with him at intervals all weekend
And, um, actually, quite a few of my memories of the bands have faded a bit already. Finnmark! were rather slow and ponderous, Jupiter in Jars were two girls with a flute and a guitar and interesting vocal harmonies, Tunabunny were American and a bit shouty... but I have retained no memory of Pale Spectres or The Understudies (did I really see them?)
However, noodling about between stages was pleasant, and I had great fun reading other people's t-shirts. Just about everyone was keen to wear their indie credentials on their, um, fronts with obscurist t-shirts. Or tote bags. Or even home-made custom sunglasses... it's all about the DIY twee. (Workshops in making rock'n'roll sockpuppets, anyone? Pompom pets or bowties? Wet felt making? Recreating famous album sleeves from Lego?)
The raucously obscene (and yet somehow still twee) Cars Can Be Blue win Cover Of The Festival for finishing their set with Deceptacon (and they picked their audience - everyone bounced around like dervishes, instead of looking blank).
The Pastels are somewhat legendary, but I've never felt that I really get why... so gave up, bought a fantastic plate of nachos, and went to see The Brilliant Corners instead. Which meant we were conveniently under cover in the engine shed when the heavens opened. And still conveniently there when headliners Camera Obscura were moved indoors due to ongoing rain. Everyone crammed into the shed and waited politely for over an hour while gear was shifted around and sound was checked. I like Camera Obscura, but had rather envisaged a pleasant set sitting on the grass in the evening sunshine, and despite their best efforts I'm not sure they worked quite so well in the shed. Nice trumpet, though :)
Sunday
The French Defence, Seabirds, Good Grief, Alpaca Sports, [Flowers], Lardpony, Kid Canaveral, Making Marks, [Fear of Men], Martha, The Lovely Eggs, Helen Love, [The Still Corners]
After a bit of a wander around the display shed of vintage buses and the National Fork Truck Heritage Centre (yes, really!) we settled down to watch The French Defence in the church. The French Defence turned out to be one chap with a guitar, singing lovelorn (but non-whingy) songs.
At one point he asked if there were any children present, because the next song was "rather sweary". A voice from the back commented "There's the Sturdy Baby"[***]. Oh, he said, sounding rather worried. Was she awake?
"Never mind," said the voice, "it's only the Sturdy Baby."
Mr Defence then checked his audience didn't mind a sweary song in a church, and proceeded.
The standard of bands overall seemed especially good on Sunday - I think I enjoyed everyone I watched - and featuring everything from beautiful chimey melodies to out-and-out ludicrosity. Special mention to Lardpony who managed to be funny, rather out of tune, and highly entertaining all at once. And who wouldn't want a song about the excitement of stationery shops? Or the problems of having a temp job as a secretary for a terrorist? (I highly recommend Temporary Tattoo, Lardpony's track on the compilation).
The two other serious contenders for Cover Of The Festival were a rather lovely acoustic version of the Jackson 5's I Want You Back from Alpaca Sports, and Martha's version of We Didn't Start The Fire, chucking the vocals from one person to another so no one had to learn all the words ;)
The magnitude of the festival is such that many bands are around all weekend, watching other acts. So The Tuts sang a song about dumping your boyfriend, and bis commented that they were going to go one better when they sang Kill Your Boyfriend. Lardpony then offered advice on how to keep the relationship going after that with a song about having an undead girlfriend.
We also got overexcited in the merchandise tent, where various stalls, labels and bands appeared and disappeared all weekend. On Sunday, Fortuna Pop were selling off their back catalogue at three albums for a tenner. We, er, have some albums. At various times all weekend, there were piles of money lying about the place as stall holders wandered off and people helped themselves and left the cash.
The trains run all day; the diesel trots usefully back and forth between the two stations. The steam-hauled train does that journey, but also trundles out into the country for a bit if you fancy a nice ride. There was also a little Peckett steaming, which intially pretended to be shunting some boxes around, but in reality was just being played with by its drivers ;) And there was a steam roller steaming, in case it was needed to flatten empty cans from the bar. And a model railway, and a light railway to ride for fun, and (although I never made it that far) a miniature railway... I think perhaps I did too much band-watching and not enough railway-geeking.
Now, long-term readers and BAYD-followers might remember Helen Love. ChrisC and I are both big fans of Helen Love, although we had bought Indietracks tickets before we knew she was booked. Her playing was a big deal: she hates gigging, and last performed in 2001. Neither of us has ever seen her live. When the line-up was announced, I got an SMS from ChrisC that ended in four exclamation marks. I think that's more than I've known him use, total, since I met him. I broke out a temporary tattoo which came with an old album, and had been held in reserve for just such a day. ChrisC wrote a line from a Helen Love song ("I've got my Helen Love t-shirt on") on his velcro shirt and wore that.
In the middle of the afternoon, I wandered across to find a gentleman in a natty hat taking a photo of ChrisC's t-shirt. A lady was standing off to one side, and Natty Hat Guy told her that he'd tweeted the picture. I asked, conversationally, if they were big Helen Love fans. "Actually," said the lady, turning round, "I'm Helen Love".
Oops.
It turns out that Natty Hat Guy (actually Ian Damaged, the chap behind Damaged Goods Records) had asked to take a photo and Helen Love, who was with him, had offered to be in it. In context - despite having no idea what she looked like - ChrisC had deduced who she might be. He insists it be made clear that she asked to be in his photo, not vice versa :)
The Indoor stage was running rather late on Sunday evening, and seemed to be packed full of people waiting for Helen Love. Down at the front, someone passed CLARE! a pot of glitter and she glitter-bombed anyone she could get near before passing it back. At which point a long-haired, unshaven bloke with a thick Irish accent tapped her politely on the shoulder and asked if he could have some glitter too, please.
Eventually, the band (one singer, one synths guy, one guitarist) made it on stage and with a flurry of drum machines and some glitter cannons, were under way. Helen Love has a new album out, but played nothing from it, trotting out oldies and hits solidly for 40 minutes. And the crowd - or at least the bit of it around me, jammed up against the front barrier - went wild, jumping up and down and singing every word. Special mention to the guy to my right who obligingly sang the police siren sound effect in one song - synths guy appeared to have missed it out :) The set ended with a riotous (if pre-planned and glitter-cannon-toting) stage invasion version of Does Your Heart Go Boom?. I imagine the singalong could be heard right across the site...
We eventually gave up shouting for an encore, and wafted out to the Outdoor stage where the notional headliners, Still Corners, were still playing. I regret we didn't give them the attention they deserved, addressing ourselves instead to burritos and chatting to Zenithed, Sarah, Lily and Nick instead before heading off to dance to the frankly odd DJ-set.
Why yes, I am watching for when next year's dates are announced, why do you ask?
[*] Although ChrisC's phone turned out to know Clare's surname, neither of us seems to have ever known it. For years, if disambiguation were needed, she's been "Clare, you know, CLARE!" It seems to describe her fairly well.
[**] Hauled by 73129, for those who like that sort of info.
[***] Not, as I initially thought, an especially resilient infant. Further heckles revealed that the Sturdy Baby was some relation to the gentleman who runs Sturdy Records.
And, do you know what? I really, really enjoyed it. And as a result, I'm going to write about it in excruciating detail. Read at own risk.
Friday
The Tuts, Bis
Late afternoon, we galloped off up the M1, and after a bit of light map confusion managed to land ourselves at the intended location. Um, this doesn't look like a festival. It looks like a car park, with a teeny tiny station next to it. Not a sign, not a tent in sight. Not a note to be heard. Not a festival.
Oh wait, we're meant to get on the train? Ah. Yes. We are at Butterley station, where the car park is. The festival is at Swanwick Junction, which is a few minutes along the line behind a preserved diesel engine. When do the trains run? Well, they kind of leave when they seem to have about enough people to be worth it. We hopped on.
And we chatted to a family (mum, dad, toddler) in the carriage while we waited. Then a bunch of people wandered past, and we hailed Simon among them, and caught up with him for a while. Then we got off at Swanwick Junction, and ran into CLARE![*], who came bounding over to hug us both. And
zenithed turned out to be sitting exactly where he said he would be with a bunch of his friends... All in all, it looked to be shaping up to be a good weekend.We bought excellent curry from a stall, and headed down to the main stage to watch The Tuts. Oh, and I got very excited to discover that the bar was actually a big scaffolding structure full of promising-looking barrels. They had about four or five beers on the go at any one time, opening a new barrel as another ran out. Which meant every time I went to the bar, I could be excited all over again at the new range of beers on offer.
Friday-night headliners were Bis, whom I've never been that keen on. Or, as they are correctly known, BisFromGlasgowScotland (or, possibly, as they are better known "the people who did the theme for the animated series of The Power Puff Girls"). All I really think of when someone says Bis is the cartoon-scream style of Kandy Pop, which is a bit wearing. Of course, there are two (verging on three) singers in Bis, and taken as a whole they are really not that screamy. Anyway, I jumped up and down and sang along and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Afterwards, the second stage (also known as the Indoor stage or, more usefully, the engine shed) started up with DJs, and we ran in delightedly to dance to Baxendale and Tullycraft. And then realised that the trouble with DJs who play obscurities you love is that they also play obscurities you've never heard of. Lots of 'em :) Some injudicious early dancing right under a speaker sent me to lurk at the back until my poor ears got over it all.
Outside, chatting to people and admiring the colourfully floodlit freight wagons, we were commenting that we were unlikely to get the sort of random weirdness you get at larger festivals. At which point a bunch of people walked past carrying owls.
Like, actual owls. And a Harris hawk. Did we want to stroke them? No problem. Where were they going? To the bar, because the bar staff wanted to see them. It turns out a local owl and parrot rescue centre had a bunch of birds on display - all bred-in-captivity, unwanted pets they've taken on - which are happy to be patted and fussed over. And taken to bars.
Saturday
[Northern Spies], Finnmark!, Jupiter in Jars, Tunabunny, [Pale Spectres], The Understudies, Milky Wimpshake, When Nalda Became Punk, [Secret History], [McTells], [The Wave Pictures], Cars Can Be Blue, [The Pastels], The Brilliant Corners, Camera Obscura
If you're reading that list and thinking "who?" then don't worry about it. Wikipedia quotes the Grauniad as describing bands who play Indietracks as "so obscure you have to wonder if they've even heard of themselves". I'd heard of barely any of them, but fortunately Indietracks is aware of this, and they produce a compilation to introduce their line up. I recommend it if you like indiepop, or want to know what indiepop is. A measly £2 to download, or free to stream if you can tolerate Bandcamp's lack of volume control.
If you look at the stage times, you'll see a line up for the Outdoor stage, one for the Indoor stage, one for the Church, and one for Trains. The church really is a church - a transported tin tabernacle rebuilt on the museum's site. And the trains really are trains. It brings a whole new meaning to the idea of catching a band. On Saturday morning, we hopped on the train[**] at Butterley, and revelled in our first class compartment all the way to Swanwick Junction where Northern Spies got on. Sadly, they got on at the guard's van end. And so did all their fans. Meaning by the time we'd pottered down the train the van was packed out, roastingly hot, and we were too far away to hear an unamplified band. After a while, we gave up and sat further along the carriage, sharing a table with a nice chap from Sheffield.
Y'see, Indietracks isn't so much a festival as a meeting of a small and indiepop-loving club. It'd almost be a clique, only it's the friendliest clique imaginable. And it's such a tiny event, that you will keep running into the same people. So having made a new friend from Sheffield, we sporadically compared notes with him at intervals all weekend
And, um, actually, quite a few of my memories of the bands have faded a bit already. Finnmark! were rather slow and ponderous, Jupiter in Jars were two girls with a flute and a guitar and interesting vocal harmonies, Tunabunny were American and a bit shouty... but I have retained no memory of Pale Spectres or The Understudies (did I really see them?)
However, noodling about between stages was pleasant, and I had great fun reading other people's t-shirts. Just about everyone was keen to wear their indie credentials on their, um, fronts with obscurist t-shirts. Or tote bags. Or even home-made custom sunglasses... it's all about the DIY twee. (Workshops in making rock'n'roll sockpuppets, anyone? Pompom pets or bowties? Wet felt making? Recreating famous album sleeves from Lego?)
The raucously obscene (and yet somehow still twee) Cars Can Be Blue win Cover Of The Festival for finishing their set with Deceptacon (and they picked their audience - everyone bounced around like dervishes, instead of looking blank).
The Pastels are somewhat legendary, but I've never felt that I really get why... so gave up, bought a fantastic plate of nachos, and went to see The Brilliant Corners instead. Which meant we were conveniently under cover in the engine shed when the heavens opened. And still conveniently there when headliners Camera Obscura were moved indoors due to ongoing rain. Everyone crammed into the shed and waited politely for over an hour while gear was shifted around and sound was checked. I like Camera Obscura, but had rather envisaged a pleasant set sitting on the grass in the evening sunshine, and despite their best efforts I'm not sure they worked quite so well in the shed. Nice trumpet, though :)
Sunday
The French Defence, Seabirds, Good Grief, Alpaca Sports, [Flowers], Lardpony, Kid Canaveral, Making Marks, [Fear of Men], Martha, The Lovely Eggs, Helen Love, [The Still Corners]
After a bit of a wander around the display shed of vintage buses and the National Fork Truck Heritage Centre (yes, really!) we settled down to watch The French Defence in the church. The French Defence turned out to be one chap with a guitar, singing lovelorn (but non-whingy) songs.
At one point he asked if there were any children present, because the next song was "rather sweary". A voice from the back commented "There's the Sturdy Baby"[***]. Oh, he said, sounding rather worried. Was she awake?
"Never mind," said the voice, "it's only the Sturdy Baby."
Mr Defence then checked his audience didn't mind a sweary song in a church, and proceeded.
The standard of bands overall seemed especially good on Sunday - I think I enjoyed everyone I watched - and featuring everything from beautiful chimey melodies to out-and-out ludicrosity. Special mention to Lardpony who managed to be funny, rather out of tune, and highly entertaining all at once. And who wouldn't want a song about the excitement of stationery shops? Or the problems of having a temp job as a secretary for a terrorist? (I highly recommend Temporary Tattoo, Lardpony's track on the compilation).
The two other serious contenders for Cover Of The Festival were a rather lovely acoustic version of the Jackson 5's I Want You Back from Alpaca Sports, and Martha's version of We Didn't Start The Fire, chucking the vocals from one person to another so no one had to learn all the words ;)
The magnitude of the festival is such that many bands are around all weekend, watching other acts. So The Tuts sang a song about dumping your boyfriend, and bis commented that they were going to go one better when they sang Kill Your Boyfriend. Lardpony then offered advice on how to keep the relationship going after that with a song about having an undead girlfriend.
We also got overexcited in the merchandise tent, where various stalls, labels and bands appeared and disappeared all weekend. On Sunday, Fortuna Pop were selling off their back catalogue at three albums for a tenner. We, er, have some albums. At various times all weekend, there were piles of money lying about the place as stall holders wandered off and people helped themselves and left the cash.
The trains run all day; the diesel trots usefully back and forth between the two stations. The steam-hauled train does that journey, but also trundles out into the country for a bit if you fancy a nice ride. There was also a little Peckett steaming, which intially pretended to be shunting some boxes around, but in reality was just being played with by its drivers ;) And there was a steam roller steaming, in case it was needed to flatten empty cans from the bar. And a model railway, and a light railway to ride for fun, and (although I never made it that far) a miniature railway... I think perhaps I did too much band-watching and not enough railway-geeking.
Now, long-term readers and BAYD-followers might remember Helen Love. ChrisC and I are both big fans of Helen Love, although we had bought Indietracks tickets before we knew she was booked. Her playing was a big deal: she hates gigging, and last performed in 2001. Neither of us has ever seen her live. When the line-up was announced, I got an SMS from ChrisC that ended in four exclamation marks. I think that's more than I've known him use, total, since I met him. I broke out a temporary tattoo which came with an old album, and had been held in reserve for just such a day. ChrisC wrote a line from a Helen Love song ("I've got my Helen Love t-shirt on") on his velcro shirt and wore that.
In the middle of the afternoon, I wandered across to find a gentleman in a natty hat taking a photo of ChrisC's t-shirt. A lady was standing off to one side, and Natty Hat Guy told her that he'd tweeted the picture. I asked, conversationally, if they were big Helen Love fans. "Actually," said the lady, turning round, "I'm Helen Love".
Oops.
It turns out that Natty Hat Guy (actually Ian Damaged, the chap behind Damaged Goods Records) had asked to take a photo and Helen Love, who was with him, had offered to be in it. In context - despite having no idea what she looked like - ChrisC had deduced who she might be. He insists it be made clear that she asked to be in his photo, not vice versa :)
The Indoor stage was running rather late on Sunday evening, and seemed to be packed full of people waiting for Helen Love. Down at the front, someone passed CLARE! a pot of glitter and she glitter-bombed anyone she could get near before passing it back. At which point a long-haired, unshaven bloke with a thick Irish accent tapped her politely on the shoulder and asked if he could have some glitter too, please.
Eventually, the band (one singer, one synths guy, one guitarist) made it on stage and with a flurry of drum machines and some glitter cannons, were under way. Helen Love has a new album out, but played nothing from it, trotting out oldies and hits solidly for 40 minutes. And the crowd - or at least the bit of it around me, jammed up against the front barrier - went wild, jumping up and down and singing every word. Special mention to the guy to my right who obligingly sang the police siren sound effect in one song - synths guy appeared to have missed it out :) The set ended with a riotous (if pre-planned and glitter-cannon-toting) stage invasion version of Does Your Heart Go Boom?. I imagine the singalong could be heard right across the site...
We eventually gave up shouting for an encore, and wafted out to the Outdoor stage where the notional headliners, Still Corners, were still playing. I regret we didn't give them the attention they deserved, addressing ourselves instead to burritos and chatting to Zenithed, Sarah, Lily and Nick instead before heading off to dance to the frankly odd DJ-set.
Why yes, I am watching for when next year's dates are announced, why do you ask?
[*] Although ChrisC's phone turned out to know Clare's surname, neither of us seems to have ever known it. For years, if disambiguation were needed, she's been "Clare, you know, CLARE!" It seems to describe her fairly well.
[**] Hauled by 73129, for those who like that sort of info.
[***] Not, as I initially thought, an especially resilient infant. Further heckles revealed that the Sturdy Baby was some relation to the gentleman who runs Sturdy Records.
