ANBAD’s Best Bands Of 2011 // Top Ten: 10 – 6

If you missed them, here’s Part 1 and Part 2 of the list of bands who didn’t quite make the Top Ten…

Sifting through the hundreds of bands who were splurged all over ANBAD is a task which is part edifying pleasure and part brutal exposure of this writer’s foibles at any one period throughout the year.

Not many bands have ‘aged’ badly in the months since they were first exposed in breathless terms (though some are there, if you’re inclined to find them). If anything, revisiting them has been affirmative: their songs still prickle the same nerve-endings as they did when first heard.

Thus, the following bands are the crème de la crème – the bands that didn’t just age well, but also surprised and charmed even more the second (or third, fourth, fifth) time around.

 #10 – The Parish Of Little Clifton: Exceptionally precise musicians often turn into tedious Phil Collinses, but TPOLC applies his precision in much less horrifying and much more gorgeously skylarking ways:

 ANBAD said: “entirely clear, precise music that ought to cut through mental fug like an industrial laser-beam.”

#9 – Petter Seander: Guess what overriding quality this Swedish songwriter has? BING! Correct – an alarmingly sharp grasp of pop melody, and songs that couldn’t be any more upbeat in execution if they tried. Oh, and they come with free tea. Tea!

ANBAD said: “when Petter croons, ‘nothing lasts forever,‘ the sentiment is met with a shrug and a dizzy shake of the head. Lovely, soaring, tinkling, jittering, perfect pop. Excellent.”

#8 – Petit Fantôme: While we’re making ludicrously unfair generalisations based on nationality, do you reckon that the French band Petit Fantôme has great, swooshing, 70’s synth-choruses or what? You’re right, of course. Excellent, unusual and brightly soft.

ANBAD said“icy but warm; inert but humane; calm but darting; born of technology but realised in the bosom of life’s irrevocable chaos.”

#7 – Tripwires: a band that might not be truly classed as new, with a song that might not truly be considered to belong to 2011. But ignore Tripwires’ Cinnamon at your peril, because it’s too beautifully dozy to be engulfed by such petty squabbles. Delicious.

ANBAD said:a miasmic swirl of hyper-echoed guitars, buried, frantic drumbeats and vocals that dissolve into the ether. Cinnamon might be a blunt instrument, or it might be a deft, monstrously delicate and gossamer-thin thing of beauty – you choose.”

#6 – The Lovely Eggs: here’s a band that generate goodwill. This is very hard to achieve. But The Lovely Eggs have it in spades, because their songs are not only funny, and smart, and knowing, and honest – but brilliant too.

ANBAD said: “Bands progress, and bands change: in the Lovely Eggs’ case, their progression within the space of one song is almost mind-boggling.

Because Allergies isn’t only a song, it’s a heavy-as-lead, psychedelic-lo-fi mini-masterpiece; the ‘Kashmir’ of winsome bedroom indie; the sound of a band shoving everything on red and then hitting ‘Record’.”

ANBAD’s Best Bands Of 2011 // The Runners-Up (Part 2)

Here’s Part Two of ANBAD’s Best Bands of 2011 Runner’s-Up List. Cast a beady eye over Part One here.

Next week, a rarity: decisiveness in action, and I’ll be picking the Top Ten new bands featured on ANBAD this year.

All the bands that will be featured over the next week or so have quite definitely not been carefully judged, weighed and balanced against one another: you’ll find no pretence here that this will be anything other than the mysterious blue fluff nestling in the belly button that is ANBAD.

But first, here’s a bunch of bands that didn’t quite fit into the Top Ten. And they’re still all Too Legit To Quit 2011 without one more spin:

  • ROUGH FIELDS’ Abu Dhabi is “dense. It’s also madly warm and almost too rich. Almost, but not quite. The most beautiful white noise you’ll hear all month. Fabulous.”

Rough Fields // Abu Dhabi


  • REID“produces silky-smooth, thunderously soft house music. House music is at its most devastatingly effective when kept almost absurdly simple, and, in his echo-drenched thumper Forrest, Reid has discovered this secret sweet spot.”


  • YOOFS were briefly called AC Slater. One threat of a lawsuit later, and the newly-re-named Yoofs were making music that prompted this pseudo-deep comment: “Shooting for the stars is hard when you’re trying to make it seem like you’re scratching around in the dust – but this is what Yoofs are doing, and it’s working well so far.”


  • BLOUSE are relatively big, at least for ANBAD’s scrawny parameters. But, they’er very good. And, “buried deep within Videotapes’ warped synths, clobbering drums and breathy vocals lies a pristine and simple 4-square pop song; hooks, choruses and progressions all in the right place, at the right time.”

ANBAD’s Best Bands Of 2011 // The Runners-Up (Part 1)

So. Why pick the ANBAD End O’ Year List, which starts in earnest next week, over any other music blogs’?

Well, there is no real reason, though if you’ve had the determination to read past the first paragraph, maybe you have a modicum of interest in slip-sliding into the grubby, ragged, and frequently ludicrous world of new bands from a slightly different, dubious angle.

Still, while you’re deciding whether it’s worth the plunge or not (HINT: it actually is – there were some genuinely terrific bands on ANBAD this year), here’s Part One of the patronising pat-on-the-head for the bands that were really great, but not quite really great enough to make the Top Ten

  •  PIXELSIn a moderately rare instance of ANBAD picking up a band that goes onto moderately bigger things, Pixels, “drag ideas from jangle-pop,with a vaguely hip-hop rhythm and an entirely disconnected outlook.”


  • ARC VELs songs “seem to be composed of snippets of other lovely songs –  dreamy, anti-brash, anti-form soundscapes is that… may only exist in the world of Arc Vel, and we’ll never hear them.”


  • GALA DROPs song Rauze is so devastatingly successful – looping noises back and forth, gaining momentum, pausing, unfurling – I wonder why music like this isn’t made more often.”

Gala Drop // RAUZE


  • Where are PRAIRIES  from?I can think of some antecedents – for some reason T.V.O.D. springs to mind, apropos of almost nothing – but in all honesty, Prairies may as well be beamed from the future.


…Part 2 of ANBAD’s best runners-up arrives tomorrow!

Spotify: Music Heaven or Musician’s Hell? – A Very Modern Problem

I love Spotify. If you like listening to music, I know that you love Spotify too.

Because what is there not to love? And I do mean love – I can vividly recall the dizzying, bewildering, heart-racing feelings when I first downloaded it a few years ago, and lots days discovering and rediscovering amazing music.

I became Spotify’s loudest, most rabid, most insistent acolyte, forcing family and friends to download it. (I still recommend you do, by the way)

Try it yourself – just say to your nearest and dearest, “Imagine your iTunes collection suddenly bloats and distends to include almost all music, ever,” and watch as their eyes widen, sold instantly on the idea.

So who couldn’t love Spotify? Well, maybe the artists who supply it with ‘content’. Murmurings of discontent have been slipping from between artists’ lips for a while now – grumblings about paltry payouts, mainly. A few labels have voted with their feet, and pulled their music from the service.

What is the deal with Spotify’s payment system? On one hand, Spotify says it has “driven” a not-inconsiderable $150 Million out to artists. On the other,  Jon Hopkins, from the excellent King Creosote, says he got £8 for 90,000 plays.

So is Jon right to be aggrieved? Well, I’m not an artist. I’m a consumer – a paying Spotify user who considers £5 a month a tiny amount to pay for so much music. Hey, I’m listening to Spotify as I write this (Iggy Pop’s Lust For Life, if you must know)

I can see why Jon’s annoyed. £8 seems like the wrong kind of tiny amount for music – from the point of view of the artist. But is there more to it than that?

If, as Jon says, BBC Radio 1 pay about £50 per play, Spotify certainly does appear miserly. But think about these numbers and how our perception of a ‘play’ fits into them.

90,000 plays on Spotify doesn’t equate to 90,000 people hearing the song once. Their are people, like me, who will hammer an individual song 20 times in a row if they’re in an obsessive mood, and this behaviour distorts the figure instantly.

One play on Spotify doesn’t mean the listener likes the song, or even listens to it. What if one of those ‘plays’ is a person idly pointing an ear towards a song for ten seconds, pulling a face, and skipping on to another? Should the amount paid to the artist factor in those people, these occurances?

Then consider this: each Radio 1 play will reach a lot more than, say, 90,000 listeners – it’ll be heard by hundreds of thousands at least, and many millions if it’s on the bigger shows.

Does each of these listeners hearing the song once on the radio equate to a “play”? If so, a £50 payment for having your song played to three million people doesn’t seem such a great deal.


In the end, it all boils down to control: the Spotify users control what they listen to – and the artist can decide whether they want their music to appear on there or not.

But at least there is control: would artists like Jon prefer it if the supply of their music was regulated – albeit in exchange for merely beer money –  or that their music was downloaded via a torrent, and any semblance of artist control lost forever?

And, as the ever-perceptive Sean Adams from Drowned In Sound pointed out:

I advise new bands to put music on Spotify if possible, not so much for the money, but purely for the fact that one of Spotify’s zillions of listeners might find you, become a fan, and then support you by attending gigs, buying merchandise, and coquettishly hassling you to come back stage and share your rider.

Listeners (like me) used to hate paying £15 for just one CD a decade ago, and although record sales could actually generate income then, the artists didn’t make a huge amount, either.

So now the artist gets screwed directly, as opposed to via a label – but now the consumer now thinks they’re getting a fairer deal. Is this right? Probably not, but what are the viable alternatives right now?

I feel for Jon. £8 for 90,000 plays doesn’t seem right. But then, if Spotify didn’t exist, 90,000 plays of your song might not have taken place.

Being angry with Spotify is probably not the answer. Spotify is a reflection of the times and of how people have decided to consume music now.

In a period where a heavy, grey cloud looms large over all music, is it better to look for a silver lining – regardless of how thinly beaten that lining is – or to stand your ground and rage against the status quo?

Ultimately, it’s for us – because we’re all consumers – to decide how this pans out. And for now, the vast majority of us like our music as close to free as we can get it.

The View From… Brazil (Pt 2)

Murilo Portescheller does not only have a fabulously beguiling name, but he’s a native of Brazil who is studying here in Manchester for a few months.

Having left the endless beaches of his homeland and swapped them for the endless  drizzle of Manchester, no wonder he is eager to reminisce about his country’s music scene…

In the past few years, Brazil’s got some emerging bands that may have changed the image of the country’s alternative music scene. Indie Rock and Experimental bands got back on track.

Jennifer Lo-fi is the most exciting new band that came out from São Paulo in many years from now. With influences from experimental, post-rock bands like This Town Needs Guns, Sigur Rós, Circa Survive and The Mars Volta, they created something that Brazil was not used to listen to.

Their gigs are definitely intense, energic, well played and veeery noisy, such as their two EP’s, Summer Session (2010) and Nóia (2011). Technically talking, they are one of the best bands in Brazil.

Another experimental band is making some noise in the Brazilian alternative music scene: Dorgas. This fresh new band – they’ve got only a single, Loxhanxha (2011), and an EP, Verdeja Music (2010), released – from Rio de Janeiro makes an experimental-druggy sound, with broken guitar riffs and drums, synth backgrounds and reverbed vocals. A band to watch out for!

The ‘biggest Brazilian new band’ is called Holger (which is already known in ANBAD – they appeared in The View From Brazil Pt. 1). They’ve grown a lot since their first EP, The Green Valley, was released. The press and the public literally embraced the band when they released the debut album Sunga, late in 2010.

It sounds like a mix of the early riff-indie rock from USA (like Pavement and stuff) and the african music beats – I could easily compare it to the self-titled Vampire Weekend’s debut album.

The funky band Garotas Suecas, from São Paulo, is a clear revival from the funk scene of Brazil in the 70’s and 80’s. They toured in NY last year and released the full-length album Escaldante Banda, which had got such great reviews from the local and worldwide music press.

Rock’n’roll Black Drawing Chalks deserves some attention too. The band with heavy melodies and great riffs from Goiânia are well known in Brazil.

They already reached a good place in the alternative music scene with two LP’s released, Big Deal (2007) and Life Is A Big Holiday For Us (2009), and their single My Favorite Way was chosen by the Rolling Stone Brasil magazine as the best song of 2009.

It’s worth to keep the eyes on new artists from Brazil. Some really good stuff are coming out and not arriving in Europe. I’d say the next things to come are The Tape Disaster (a very talented instrumental band from Porto Alegre), Apanhador Só and Inverness.

PS:if you want to translate some Portuguese names of the bands:

Garotas Suecas = Swedish Girls
Apanhador Só = Lonely Catcher
Dorgas = Durgs, a joke with the word ‘drugs’…

The View From… Milton Keynes

If you mention the town of Milton Keynes to anyone in the UK, they will immediately replace their previous expression with one of furrowed concern, and mutter the word, “roundabouts.”

Milton Keynes is punctuated with more roundabouts than even begins to make sense. It’s a true shame that the town is mainly known for this, and as Vickee Tweed is at pains to stress – there’s a lot of new music screeching around those circles too…

With the recent double whammy of Foo Fighter’s gigs which saw a packed out Bowl, I dare anyone to say that Milton Keynes is little more than a land of concrete cows, roundabouts and a namely confused football team. From the air a place that resembles little more than your granny’s crossword with all it’s endless grid squares has some unearthed musical treats.

Ok so I guess we have the tour managers, promoters and general ‘powers that be’ to thank for that weekend’s fine feast of rock and Indie delights. However small and stuffy Milton Keynes is, over the past few years we’ve had some highly talented bands and individuals sprout through the concrete and add a little life into the mix.

Anyone remember Capdown? The progressive Ska band who made it onto the Lock Up stage at Reading and Leeds year after year, having a key supporter in the shape of Radio 1’s Mike Davis. Well they are indeed Milton Keynes born and bred.

I say it like they’re a thing of the past, actually do kids still skank? Apparently so, as it shows with their long list of gigs scheduled this year including Reading and Leeds alongside Boy Sets Fire and Come Back Kid. Well done to them I say. Another band hailing from MK was a Kerrang favourite, Fell Silent a progressive metal band who seems to have the grubby Pitz Club (RIP) kids under their experimental spell. After a long spell of touring with friends Enter Shikari and releasing a killer album the band went their separate ways last year to pursue separate projects.

Enough with the past, lets think present and take a look at all of the talent currently oozing out of the pores of this multi-faceted town (yeah, still not a city – not that we’re bitter).

The MK music scene has evolved and shifted in recent years, like any other big town there are trends and fashions that these kids are all too eager to to follow. A band breaking that mould and just making music because they like to be rowdy are Action Beat.

The ever-growing band have become well respected in Europe, touring every summer, serving up their thrashy, bashy, mashy mashed up lyric-less delights. These guys are mental, and over the years the band have seen over 40 band members and a heck of a lot of instruments – an average show could see up to four drum kits. Definitely an experience. Catch them in the UK in August. If you like something a little prettier but still with it’s experimental inner workings, think Bon Iver on speed. check out the solo project from former Beat boy Dean Spacer, House of John Player

If you’re a fan of the softer end of the spectrum there’s a couple of top acoustic acts in Milton Keynes worth opening your ears for. Toulouse Wolfe features the musical talents and pitch perfect tones of Goldsmith student Heather Britton.

Her EP is dark in places, almost haunting giving depth and character to her emotive lyrics. It’s astounding to think that this is her first release, already mastering and fine tuning her unique sound – I think there may be some accomplished artists turning a slight shade of emerald in the wake of TW. Lastly we celebrate the talents of Nick Fisher, charming both in character and in song. His music is so pleasurable to listen to, soothes the soul and puts a swing in your step. If you’re having an angsty five minutes Nick will sort you out. Sorted!

Bestival 2011: The Bands, Et Cetera

In this final post on Bestival, we finally get around to addressing the bands that were actually playing. You know, the reason we were there in the first place.

The variety was bewildering, broad and mostly enviable: witness Public Enemy rubbing shoulders with Brian Wilson; DJ Shadow with Boys Noize; awful Adele dubstep remixes with awful Adele Drum ‘n’ Bass remixes.

Out of bloody-mindedness, the following article is presented in a series of notes and bullet points.


Yuck proved to be all you’d hope for in a young, new band – bright, noisy, carefree and juggling a handful of good tunes. Most bands struggle after being the bloggers’-flavour-of-the-month band, but Yuck seem to be dealing with it in the right way: heads down, performing their throwaway lo-fi songs, waiting for the hype to pass.

They’re also a band who are about as impressive as you’d expect in the flesh: there were few surprises, but what they did do was, at the least, very pleasant.

Old ANBAD alumni D/R/U/G/S was everywhere: playing the Red Bull stage – not once, but twice, and cropping up with a live set on Bestival Radio; he’d probably set up his samplers in your tent for a modest fee.

Cal from D/R/U/G/S has evolved his sound and his set was a loud, swirling journey through house music – albeit one which still found room for old favourites like Love/Lust. The new material he played bodes very well for the future.

Islet have a wardrobe apparently entirely culled from charity shops. I like that. Their soundcheck took surprisingly long for a small band: a sign that the band takes their sound seriously. I don’t mind that so much, but when the band began there was a strange disconnect between these ears and the band themselves.

Islet’s sound is an intricate, obtuse one – one that I usually enjoy – but this time, the chorus-less, verse-less songs seemed to be too obtuse, too testing and too angular for their own good.

I hate to criticise a band that I admire, but when you get the feeling the performers are having more fun than the audience, it’s time to go and buy another agonisingly expensive, lukewarm cider from the bar. I’m chalking this gig up as an inevitable blip in an upward trajectory.

THE OLD BANDS, bullet pointed for convenience:

  • PJ Harvey was devastatingly good, playing brilliant songs from across her career with style and panache. FACT: She has the best-dressed band in rock.
  • Primal Scream‘s attempt to perform the whole of Screamadelica was bold – brave, even -but ultimately flawed. The opening track, Movin’ On Up, ought to be a transcendental rock moment: instead it was a murky pub-rock cover version, and the set peaked – but also troughed – from that point.
  • Boys Noize, whose name was amusingly altered to ‘Boys Booze’ by my phone’s auto-correct function, played a near-endless set of thumping, slightly camp house, which may not have been perfect, but was a lot of fun at 3am.
  • Jacques Lu Cont was the best DJ amongst the clutch of big names in the Pete Tong-curated evening in the Bollywood Tent. The vibe was happy, non-aggressive and contrasted strongly with the mood at any of the crowds at the many dubstep DJ gigs.
  • Bjork was clearly brilliant, as per usual, but the new material was clearly not suited to a festival stage, and when she admitted as such, I drifted away in wait for….
  • DJ Shadow, who appeared before a mic looking like Fred Durst’ cerebral older brother, and spoke some brief, nice words about what he was about to do, before disappearing into a huge sphere onto which an incredibly clever visual show was projected whilst he cut and scratched inside. Excellent.
  • Diplo was all dip and no zip, redundantly bellowing pantomime call-and-response into a microphone for a very long hour.
  • Kelis proved how not to endear yourself to a largely ambivalent crowd when she idly mentioned after her first song that she was “not here for you guys” and was “only here to pleasure myself”, which, amusingly unintentional innuendo aside, immediately alienated a large portion of the crowd, who muttered darkly and audibly, and then slunk away.

The latter two acts described aside, the music is always on an equal footing – and dependant on – the quality of the festival it is being performed at. On both these counts, Bestival is so far ahead of the pack, it’s almost silly.

Friendly, happy, and awash with brilliant bands, clever arenas and colourful surroundings, it’s hardly a surprise that artists are keen to play, and that 50,000 punters are prepared to queue for the hovercraft to get there.

Bestival is setting the pace and leaving the rest in its rainbow-coloured, glitter-infused dust.

Bestival 2011 Review: Mud-Free, Dub-Heavy and Ultra-Happy

Since music festivals became part of the summer social scene, and started to get crowbarred into mobile phone companies’ TV ads as part of yeah-we’re-down-with-the-kids campaigns, and become an item to tick off a tedious bucket list, the way they are reviewed has had to change too.

Before, you could get away with simply writing about the bands. The parameters are different now – it’s about the experience, yeah? As such, this article is about the festival itself – reports on the music will arrive tomorrow.

Here’s how to spot a music festival veteran: look at the left hand of the person next to you. If they’re holding a smartphone aloft with its glamorous, as-seen-on-TV, LCD touch-screen displaying the band as a speck on the faraway stage, you’re in the presence of a first-timer.

Because everyone who has been to a festival before will be clumsily thumbing and swearing at the buttons on an old Nokia 3210 – a phone dug out from the back of a drawer but can survive a plunge into mud, a trample in the mosh and a week without needing a £5-a-visit trip to that most modern of festival additions, the phone charging tent.

Bestival, of course, is awash with kids with fancy mobile phones. A few of these kids are interested only in scoring Ketamine, ensuring that their artfully scruffy hair is pristinely coiffed, or applying facial glitter in the belief that its presence on their well-bred, ruddy cheeks equates to ‘proper’ festival lasciviousness. Or at least, in the hope that photos of these these daubings will garner squeals of appreciation when shared on Facebook.

But at its heart, Bestival has always been the least ‘cool’ and least ‘fashion-magazine’ summer festival – and these latter attendees are the exception, not the rule – simply because Bestival has core values to shame almost all other festivals. These values are as follows: book great bands and then assemble the festival with care, love and the intention of simple fun for all.

This is not only an admirable approach, it’s the only approach that any festival ought to take: as anything is else is merely a procession of helicoptered-in bands playing in a soullessly fenced-off park – which in turn is merely a break from playing in soulless inner-city mega-dromes.

So at Bestival, it becomes easy to ignore the bits that would usually drive down the human spirit, because there is so much else to delight – the wonderful sculptures, the fantastically curated line-up, the smartly designed venues (one was inside a giant tree, another hidden behind the curtain of an innocuous-looking Photobooth leant against a fence), the excellent sound and location of the stages. 

Oh, and the LASERs in the Big Top tent. Those LASERs were incredible, and I reached for them like it was ’89 all over again. Whistles were blown. Glowsticks were snapped and waved.

I could go on, so I will: the vast selection of  music that on offer may have been weighted heavily on Dubstep’s WUB-WUB-WUB tendancies, but there was just so much of everything else that bordom really did then become the sole preserve of boring people.

Because if you did get sick of seeing tremendous, visceral live sets on the well-positioned stages, you could hop into a pub staffed by little people, or bedouin cafés with comfy sofas, or get drunk and vomit prodigeously on an old fairground helter-shelter. Et cetera.

And then when the brain’s grumpy lobe begins to idly wonder what the self-absorbed, loud-mouthed, rich kids did before summer festivals became cool, consider that Bestival has merely become a victim of its own success: a festival so good that everyone is eager to be there, burrow in and find their own furrow to roll around in for a weekend. And you’re probably one of them, getting stuck in, having a blast.

One final, scatalogical story about what festivals are. I was once reminiscing about The Good Old Days At Glastonbury with someone I met in a pub, and relayed a story about a visit to a portaloo on the Sunday night, when the toilets were at their most ironically bowel-clenching.

Using the kind of hand gestures one rarely uses in polite company, I described how the pile of human excrement rose like a hellish pyramid abover the rim of the toilet itself. “And on the very top – ” I enthused, “you’ll never guess what was perched right on the top of the pile.”

My new aquaintence leapt in: “It wasn’t a cherry Bakewell tart?” And you know what? It was. There was a cherry Bakewell tart, unsheathed from its little silver foil cup, sitting right on the top of the pile of shit.

I have no idea what the statistical likelihood is of him seeing exactly the same pile of shit, with exactly the same confectionary on the top, in exactly the same toilet. The world is a confusing place.

And that, friends, is what a music festival is all about: shared experiences to be re-told forever. Sometimes they’re about the amazing one-off gig you’ll never be able to top, or about the totally awesome LASERs, and other times they’re about cherry tarts, piles of shit, and gangly youths on the prowl for Ketamine.

Bestival 2011: In Pictures

ANBAD is still enjoying the long, deep sleep that can only be fully appreciated in a normal bed after a few days of camping in a field* at a music festival; thus the written review will follow when consciousness has fully returned.

In the meantime – here’s a picture gallery of things that flashed before our eyes at Bestival when we were aware enough to be holding a shonky camera that could record it. Fair Warning: there are a lot of pictures of the AWESOME LASERS in the Big Top tent.

Confused audience members watching ballet on the main stage.

Band-Of-The-Moment (a few moments ago) YUCK playing songs at a crowd on a stage sponsored by a rum manufacturer. There was no free rum.

Official Friend Of ANBAD, D/R/U/G/S, playing an (excellent) set at a stage sponsored by an energy drinks company. There were no free energy drinks (thankfully).

A whole new approach to pooping. Sawdust = water.

Bestival: Best Furnished Festival 2011. Just look at those fittings.



OMG LASERS! #3. NB: The lasers weren't the *best* thing about Primal Scream, but it was close.

After being thrilled by such a carefully-chosen slew of pictures, you’ll be pleased to know that a marginally more thoughtful written review is being typed by slow, dozy fingers, and will be posted soon.

*ANBAD’s media hub tent, by the way, was slap bang next to a field that had a large, pointy, metal sculpture which periodically blew flames from its tip and pumped out thud-thud-thud-thud house music 24/7.

Eventually, we gave up trying to sleep and just joined the masses who were drawn to the big metallic dick like so many sleep-deprived/drunk moths. 


Gosh, Saturday was a whirlwind – almost literally, as gales whooshed through Bestival, blowing off many a novelty wig from the heads of people who dressed up for the rock star-themed day.

Sadly the wind did not blow over any of the douchebag minority who used the theme as an entirely un-hilarious opportunity to black up.

ANBAD learnt that:

*PJ Harvey has the best dressed band in the world, and was uniformly brilliant.
*Last Month’s Band of the moment, Yuck, are good, although exactly as expected
*Primal Scream’s Screamadelica works OK live.
*Primal Scream’s LASERS were the best so far (photos to follow)

Today brings unexpected sunshine and DJ Shadow. Hooray!

Here is a photo of BESTIVAL WIND:

Ballet on Main Stage. Its culture, innit. They’re dancing to a Radiohead/Britney mash-up…