the final day of ATP Iceland and a weekend that was pretty much perfect

Younghusband are hungover and a bit fragile. It doesn’t impair their performance massively as the few early attendees of the Saturday afternoon are probably just the same. However, their bright and breezy guitar pop is probably the right sort of music for what still feels like morning – it’s difficult to figure out when it’s 24 hour daylight and you’re already functioning on ‘Festival Time’. There’s nothing particularly exceptional to shake you and take note but they’ve got potentially the worst shift of the weekend with hardly anyone on site and about fifty people in front of them. Give them a slot at an outdoor festival with a couple of hundred cidered up #LADS and they’ll go down a storm.

Montreal’s Ought are a different proposition. It’s still relatively light but there is a jagged and interesting side to this fresh faced Montreal band. Heavily political and Constellation label mates of GY!BE, they have an agit-pop lite sound that is attractive and worlds away from the more post-rocky meanderings of the stable. It’s jarring and Tim Beeler’s talky/shouty/singy rhetorical delivery has the feeling of political rabble-rousing without being preachy. People don’t really want lecturing these days by their musicians but there’s a growing feeling that we want to be inspired again and these seem to be going the right way about it.

Quite what Icelandic (and ATP favourites) Ham is going on about is anybody’s guess. They do try and explain occasionally in heavily accented deliberate rock monster accents but it doesn’t get through – apart from the obvious humour. At times operatic and always overly dramatic, they raid the history of rock and turn in a glorious performance. It does come across a little bit like the Scandinavian version of Spinal Tap and it’s probably intentional. They look like a band made up of the uncles that nobody’s family talks about and all the better for it. Utterly excellent and bringing a little light hearted humour to the day.

Over in Andrews Theatre, local feminist punks Born are playing to a seated but enthusiastic crowd. You get the impression that they’d be a little more comfortable playing in a basement or a squat but they approach the task of playing in this venue admirably. Shaven headed singer Alexandra sings as she lurches to and fro towards the front of the stage. The music is stark and impulsive. A nice gritty change from the polished performances over in the Atlantic Studios.

 

The biggest crowd of the day in the main venue are in attendance for Lightning Bolt. Despite a few sound problems early on their set of loud abrasive noise is aggressive and brilliant. Their normal practice of setting up in the middle of the crowd isn’t possible today so a little less guerrilla than they’d normally be but no less effective.

Loop sounded great but hunger struck so it was over to Landbest for a nice sit down and a burger. Can’t really fault Landbest as a restaurant. Something of a hidden treasure, even though noted on the ATP map, it makes an excellent choice for a late breakfast or dinner if you want something a little more civilised than something in paper from the vendors on site.

Back in Andrews Theatre, one of the performances of the weekend is taking place. The seats are all full and people are standing in front of the stage and in the aisles. The locals love Pink Street Boys and for good reason. They’re the ultimate party band after you’ve taken a couple of bad trips. Howling, reverby distorted vocals and scuzzy deranged guitars combine to take you on half hour journey through the dive bars of Reykjavik and all the characters you’ll probably encounter on the way. Joyous, fast garage psyche and, if there’s any justice, Iceland’s next big musical export. Unbelievably good.

Swans, one presumes are an acquired taste. Essential and important to their fans yet absolutely irrelevant to the rest. Foreboding and incessant, their show moves from almost tribal prayer to all out blistering guitar noise. There are tubular bells and drums and slide guitar and while it has half the venue transfixed it has the other half heading for the door and to give their ears a rest. It is, therefore, a tough one to review. To the outsider it was pretty dire; to those in the know it was sublime and awe-inspiring. You’ll probably know which side of the fence you’re on.

It was left to Ólafur Arnalds and Janus Rasmussen minimalist techno side project Kiasmos to close out the event. On record it’s piano based sparseness lying over beats and is as much about what isn’t played as what is. A beautiful record to sit and relax to and no mistake. Any idea that this is what would feature in a live show was soon put to bed as they played a set that would be as at home in an Ibiza super club as it is at an ATP event in Iceland. The piano, normally caressed wondrously and with fragility by Arnalds, is virtually dispensed with as the beats increase in pace and volume and sequencers and samplers squelch all over the top.

As the sun sort of set and rose at the same time, the coaches headed towards Reykjavik, with red in the sky over the bay, you reflect over a weekend that was pretty much perfect in terms of range of music, friendliness of people and a strange but interesting locale. Super early bird tickets go on sale in about a month and you’d be mad to miss out next year.

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