Friday overview

When you think of Canterbury I reckon most people may think of that there cathedral or possibly as the home of Chaucer. I had to study the latter’s work at school and never saw him as particularly of the rock n' roll persuasion. However, Canterbury is the setting for the third Lounge on the Farm festival and Merton farm is our location for this selection of predominantly flavoured indie bands. First impressions are cautiously favourable if you can body swerve the fact that you're on a farm as this brings the expected baggage of smells and smills (that's a smell that makes you ill). The farm theme is nicely realised via the 7 stages: Cow Shed, Farm Folk, Sheep Dip, Hoedown, Further, Folly, and Trash.



It makes you consider a notion of 'Animal Farm 2' but once you've undergone 'Lounge' orientation it's not long before the bands kick in and take over. At the mid point of the afternoon I chance upon The Lovedays on the Sheep Dip stage. This 4 piece look like they have a combined age of about 42 which, as we know, is the number signifying the answer to all life's questions. They don't do that but they display a flourish of energy in a sub White-Stripsey kind of way and all in all are rather fantastic. I wander over to the farm folk stage for Tom Hinkley but am informed that he's been stuck in traffic and won't be turning up. Still no worries as a trip to the Folly stage finds The Aquatine Progression delivering some nice languid acoustic noodlings and have a singer who looks like he was cloned from Frank Zappa's DNA.



Next up it's Glam Chops who include a few Art Brut members. They play a selection of glammy seventies flavoured stuff, part Rocky Horror, part Bowie and part Bolan and it's a fine triple combo all round. They even have dancing girls too and are a visual treat with a sense of fun to the forefront.

The main bands are in the Cowshed and watching performances in such an environment is quite an odd experience as there's a certain aroma wafting through periodically and an expectation of milking sessions at any moment. Luckily these don't transpire and instead we have Lightspeed Champion. The band are perfectly acceptable indie fare but you get the feeling that they're capable of upping the ante but for some reason don't. Their set doesn't really catch fire so maybe not champions just yet and more of a 4th place finish, respectable but looking to improve.

The big buzz tonight is about The Black Kids who attract the biggest crowd of the evening. They hit that indie dance groove quite effortlessly and remind me of the same early 90's pre-Brit pop bands like the Soup Dragons and in a strange but spooky way The Farm. The single 'I'm Not Gonna teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You' instigates a mosh frenzy sing along but for me there's still a feeling that there’s a bit too much hype for a band of their type.



By now the bands are running nearly an hour late and the crowd thins out like a confused anorexic by the time Art Brut take to the stage. Well, they miss out, as the Brut are the best band of the day by a distance. They sparkle into life from the off with a frenetic punky attack and take requests as they go along. 'Thunderpants' and 'Blame it on the Trains' make the audience take notice and if that's not enough then lead singer Eddie Argos uses other methods to engage the crowd. He skips (badly) with the microphone lead, sends good wishes to Amy Winehouse and her husband, rants and crowd surfs to everyone's delight. He looks like a cross between Tony Slattery and an XL version of Brett Anderson and uses his stage presence to successfully create a bond between band and crowd.

The dancers from Glam Chops join them for one song and provide amusing dance moves to back Eddie's up front stylings. For me they're the best band so far as they have a knowing sense of humour about it all. They don't take themselves too seriously but deliver a seriously good set of stand up tunes. They look like they're having a good time and if you can do that in a converted cowshed then it's a talent not to be sniffed at. Also it's best not to sniff too much in this place due to the possible damage to one's nasal passages.



So, Art Brut were the best of the day but to their credit Holy Fuck run them close. They don't take the stage until 11.45pm and have to curtail their set due to curfew rulings. However, they give it their all for 45 minutes or so. In 1348 Canterbury was hit by the Black Death and Holy Fuck seem to somehow ingratiate this feeling into their music but don't ask me how. The hard electro rhythms mix with swathes of oozing synth that dictates a sound that could take on the plague and hold it's own. They remind me slightly of the Chemical Brothers but with the whole periodic table thrown in for good measure. It's a shame that it's a sparse crowd but the Fuck (as I like to call them) do the business and off they go. There's no encore due to the late finish, which is a pity, as they deserve one. It also strikes me that 'holy fuck' is one of the few phrases that Robin didn't use in the Batman movies but we live in hope for the future.

After the bands finish it's all very quiet in the site but the rain has now arrived and doesn't inspire people to hang around. A solid first day all round so time to recover and face tomorrow.

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