The last event to be held at the popular Fernhill Farm before ArcTanGent moves to a new location in 2027 feels like a page being turned and a chapter closed. However, there’s no sense of sadness in the air, and with the strong line-up assembled this year, how could there be? Featuring an eclectic smorgasbord that covers the whole range of heaviness, this edition of ArcTanGent celebrates the past and signposts a bright future.
Wednesday 19th August
With just two stages, Wednesday is the perfect gateway into ArcTanGent, and there’s perhaps no better introduction than The Grey. We first fell under their spell at Uprising festival and time has only helped them hone their attack, delivering a set of monolithic songs that suggest main stage mayhem awaits.
Heavy as hell, yet surprisingly nimble, the aptly titled Giant Walker stomp all over the stage like an angry golem (with a sore head). It doesn’t take long for them to adhere themselves to the crowd, but their sound should really come with a health warning (i.e., “For hardy souls only”), and they leave an indelible mark on all present.
An off-kilter brand of rock that Bristol does so well, Sans Froid are a band busy ripping up the rulebook and, in doing so, have created a wholly original sound. It’s fluid and gives the impression that it could flow in any direction; imagine an elephant performing Bolshoi ballet and you’d have something approaching Sans Froid.
With a haunting guitar motif ringing out and smoke rising from the stage, Lost In Kyiv certainly know how to make an entrance. Dressed all in black, they tend to blend into the background, yet there’s nothing unassuming about their sound: four individuals who lock in tightly to deliver punchy songs that are far bigger than their constituent parts. Lost In Kyiv, paradise found.
Dimscûa are a band that throws black metal, doom, post-hardcore, and sludge into their cauldron and cooks up a wicked brew. It’s a cathartic brand of metal with raw, red vocals and riffs drawn out to impossible lengths. Emotive and heart-wrenching, Dimscûa reach deep into the listener’s psyche and then tug hard on their nerves: a unique experience that many present can’t wait to repeat.
Such is the high regard in which ArcTanGent is held in the alternative community that Svalbard are the first of two bands to use this year’s festival as the stage for their last-ever performance. Using Europe’s ‘The Final Countdown’ as an intro tape creates a party atmosphere and means that when Svalbard arrive with their own incendiary sound, it’s highly impactful. With smoke blowing across the stage like a battlefield, Svalbard are playing like there’s no tomorrow, unleashing a succession of fan favourites, each detonating as if a field strewn with mines. Svalbard will be sorely missed, but they’ve left behind treasured memories.
Bringing a touch of Brazilian sunshine to a typically overcast English summer, Papangu are the type of band who’ve absorbed their natural surroundings. Fusing salsa and samba rhythms with progressive and avant-garde metal creates a sound that bounces around like a silver ball between the pins. It gives Papangu an exorbitant amount of freedom and means that the heavy can sit next to the lithe quite effortlessly. It’s a sound that recalls the jazz/rock fusion of Colosseum, only ramped up to the nth degree, but no matter how experimental things get (Papangu explores the outer reaches of music), there’s a swing underpinning everything they do that makes their songs extremely catchy. However, you should never be complacent in their company; there’s always a danger they’ll veer off on some unexpected tangent, and that’s exactly what makes them so enjoyable.
No band polarise people quite like the Cardiacs, a band who’ve split the music community between those who love and those who hate them. Thankfully, the latter are in the minority, and the band (performing as an octet) are given a hero’s welcome as they appear from inside blinding white light and launch into ‘Ditzy Scene’. A track from the delayed LSD album (released in tribute to former frontman Tim Smith), Cardiacs operate with an appetite for deconstruction, pulling apart familiar themes and reassembling them in new and exciting ways. Like a magician dazzling us, Cardiacs are wise enough to wrap their experimentation in sublime melodies which award the likes of ‘Men In Bed’ instant earworm status. It is with ‘Big Ship’ that they depart, and it renders Cardiacs very much alive and kicking.
If there’s one band worthy of headlining Wednesday at ArcTanGent, it is undoubtedly SikTh. Formed in 1999, and with their classic 2001 line-up reunited, there’s still a sense of urgency surrounding this crew, and that becomes immediately apparent when they burst onto the stage. Sounding like a fleet of enemy aircraft on the horizon, they become a gang of whirling dervishes who dazzle our eyes (and ears) with a performance that can only be described as “vibrant”. Much of their power comes from their twin vocal attack; with two singers barrelling around the stage and riling the crowd toward greater insanity, it feels like the temperature is rising incrementally, inching us toward boiling point. As waves of crowd surfers crash over the barrier, SikTh unleash a well-paced set which ebbs and flows perfectly, bringing down the curtain in style and raising the bar extremely high for the rest of the weekend.
Thursday 20th August
Being located in the Mendips means ArcTanGent has its own microclimate and the rain that’s swept in has taken many by surprise. But no fear; if any band can chase away the clouds, Ian can. Whilst their name is nondescript, their sound is anything but and they shake the ground beneath our feet, making “Ian” a name to remember.
At once expansive and ethereal, Terminals are a trio who make a noise that is far bigger than their constituent parts. An inherent groove means they immediately connect with the crowd, whilst an emotive vocalist cuts to the quick of human existence, ensuring their songs resonate long after they’ve left the stage.
As is often the case, the pared-back performer is the most interesting, and a prime example is ISKANDR. A one-man band who employs keys, bells, harmonium and brass to create unsettling soundscapes which lose the listener in their vast, expansive wildernesses, whilst his vocals ring throughout the surrounding countryside like a call to prayer.
A supergroup of sorts (the lineage of each member would take too long to list), the individuals comprising KLÄMP each bring their various talents to bear to create a unique concoction. They’re a sextet who attack their instruments with great gusto, the triple guitar attack being particularly potent, and use repetition as a weapon to batter down any resistance you might have.
OTAY:ONII is a multimedia artist who, in this guise, shapes sonics in much the same way that a sculptor will manipulate clay. OTAY:ONNI immediately gets up close and personal by invading the crowd, which might suggest to you that this will be no ordinary show, and you’d be quite right. The vocals are a kind of primal scream therapy, whilst the keytar is played in a random fashion with notes plucked from the ether and placed together in a piecemeal fashion, making this an original set from an original artist.
If ever any two artists were the product of their environment, then it is undoubtedly Pil & Bue. Those rocky, jagged fjords are very much in evidence in the spiky and angular riffs which form the centrepieces of their songs. They’ve songs that’ve been boiled down into their purest form and are the ultimate distillation of primordial rage, but don’t mistake their approach for lack of invention because there’s plenty of variety on display, which means their set is over far too soon.
It’s been a busy summer for the trio known as Psychonaut; they’ve been hitting the festival circuit pretty hard, but if it has had any adverse effects, it doesn’t show because they hit the stage like a hammer smashing a skull. Today is one of those rare occasions when a band and crowd lock together in perfect synchronicity, the former feeding off the latter’s energy (and vice versa), creating a perpetual loop that means their energy levels never dip below maximum.
The first pit of the day (that I’ve seen), and it’s no surprise that Ronker has instigated it. They’ve a sound that’s as hard as nails, yet also very catchy, and it makes their songs very moshable; this is music that demands a reaction from the crowd, alters your physiology, and tells you to shake your stuff. They’re a band who’re pleasantly hard to categorise and don’t sit easy in any one box but think the rage of Discharge married to the tunefulness of the Pistols, and you’d have a sound somewhere in the ballpark of Ronker.
Agent Fresco are a band who throw themselves into their set like there is no tomorrow; they are leaving everything on stage as they race through a selection of their finest songs. They’ve a vocalist who delivers an emotive performance in a high, falsetto style that brings to mind Placebo’s Brian Molko. Those long Nordic nights have obviously had a huge impact on the band and their songwriting, presenting tunes that are at once energetic but strangely sanguine. Pulled between the two poles like a victim stretched on a rack, Agent Fresco’s sound is indicative of that eternal struggle, and that’s something to which we can all relate.
Alcest are fashionably late (they are fifteen minutes behind schedule), and as such their stage must be prepared in view of a capacity crowd. However, it creates a tension that hangs heavy and means that when the band finally arrive, they are welcomed like returning heroes. Guitars that sparkle and shine like stars in a nocturnal sky are counterpointed by gruff vocals that are dredged from the very depths of Hades and render Alcest a friendly spectre that swirls around the listener. It’s a sorrowful sound that Alcest delivers yet rarely has darkness sounded so enticing.
Think of every cool band that’s ever been; Killing Joke, Southern Death Cult, Alien Sex Fiend, Bauhaus, roll them into one, and you’d have something in the region of Scorpion Milk. If you grew up with a penchant for the dark side of the 1980’s, then you’ll find a spiritual home in their cover of Beastmilk’s ‘Nuclear Winter’. Yet, the band are no retro act, and there’s much here to place them firmly in the present; their energy and chutzpah are what powers them forwards, and they have both in abundance.
As stalks of ice-white light grow from the stage floor and scan the air like spotlights looking for enemy aircraft, a tangible excitement crackles through the atmosphere as we await one of the event’s most anticipated sets. Tonight, Igorrr are introduced by an operatic vocalist (Gerda Iguchi) who delivers some glass-shattering shrieks that work especially well with the devil’s tritone, the two combining to create a sound that’s come directly from the depths of hell. It is when Igorrr arrives that the level of insanity goes off the scale; it is as if someone has flicked a switch and the crowd turns into a seething mass, a huge circle pit erupting and sucks all into its swirling vortex. His face painted in some disconcerting tribal manner, along with his ripped frame, makes Igorrr an imposing figure and means that he has no trouble holding the crowd’s attention. When you throw songs such as ‘ADHD’ and ‘Headbutt’ into the mix, you have a recipe for disaster (in the nicest possible way), the whole crowd resembling a medieval battlefield whilst closer ‘Opus Brain’ leaves us feeling battered and bruised.
With plenty of dry ice blowing across the stage, things have a very Dickensian feel. It resembles a set in a theatre that’s hosting a folk tale, rather than a rock concert, yet it makes the perfect frame for tonight’s headline set by Chelsea Wolfe. Appearing from inside the smoke, Chelsea’s entrance is low-key and ethereal, yet all the more powerful for it. Despite the tent being full and bursting at the seams, a spell has been cast over the crowd, and you can hear the proverbial pin drop as the opening lines of ‘Iron Moon’ ring out. Aided by a crystalline sound, Chelsea and band have cast a spell over the crowd and have garnered a respect that only fearsome math tutors command. It’s all the more impressive as Chelsea Wolfe doesn’t rely on a fancy production; there’s an elegant pose and some inventive use of lighting, yet there’s a strong focus on the music, and when the songs are as good as ‘Dusk’ and ‘Vex’ (the latter featuring a guest spot from Neige), that’s exactly where our focus should be. With a few exceptions (notably her first two albums), tonight’s set touches base at most points along her discography. When the set closes with a rousing ’16 Psyche’, few can have any complaints regarding the song selection.
Friday 21st August
After closing the main stage with SikTh on Wednesday, vocalist Mikee Goodman returns to open proceedings with The Sad Season. This project takes a different route and has a Deep South feel (the type of sound you’d expect to hear from a New Orleans opium den). At every festival, there’s a discovery to fall in love with; The Sad Season are mine.
With a lot of passing trade, a festival is the perfect place to debut a new band, and a huge crowd has come to see Moksha and find out what the hullabaloo is about. They are not completely unknown (the guitarist played in Ithaca) and have a sound that recalls Foxing; once they iron out their creases, they’re gonna stomp it.
Armed with a bunch of tunes that are anchored by crushing beats, You Win Again Gravity aren’t made for the faint-hearted and are busy pushing post-hardcore into bold new territory…and are dragging audiences along with them. Hold onto your hats because the band have a no-holds-barred ethic and You Win Again Gravity are down for the fight.
Drawing inspiration from the likes of Wolf Alice and Warpaint, Night Swimming have a sound that exists in that magical space somewhere betwixt wake and sleep. They slowly ingratiate themselves into your psyche and encase you in a Novocaine buzz. Whether sleepwalking or night swimming, this band is tailor-made for nocturnal pursuits.
It’s a strange anomaly that instrumental music can often “speak” in a way that vocalised music can’t. If you need clarification, look no further than The Intersphere, a band that employs a wide palette to create colourful, expressive songs. It’s a powerful sound that’s akin to being caught in the path of an avalanche, and sometimes you have to submit to your fate.
Not since The Stoogesstepped on a stage in the late 1960’s has a band played so hard as HECK do today. It’s a sensory overload, with each band member vying for the audience’s attention; in fact, some spend more time in the mosh pit than onstage. HECK incite some rowdy behaviour (often they’re the instigators). When things get a little too crazy, the plug is pulled so people can cool down a little, yet it’s all in the right spirit, and there’s no denying this is the most anarchic, energetic, and electrifying set most people will see…ever.
There’s no denying that the world became a darker place when Arcane Roots went on hiatus in 2018, but it feels like we’re back in full technicolour now that the band have made a triumphant return. Arcane Roots are the type of band who can make math-rock complexity sound simple, and I’m pleased to report that the years away have done little to dull their prowess as they flit effortlessly between danceable sections and the heaviest of metal, and all without missing a beat. Arcane Roots are a difficult band to pigeonhole; the fluidity of their sound makes it hard to pin a label on them, but oftentimes it’s best to go with their flow and enjoy the musical journey on which they take you.
To say that Napalm Death are pioneers would be an understatement. When they burst out of Birmingham in the mid-1980s, there was nothing so sonically extreme to be found anywhere else on the planet, and it’s to their credit that they haven’t rested upon their laurels, releasing a succession of albums that have prodded at sonic boundaries. Tonight’s set is very much in that spirit, with the band operating with a take-no-prisoners attitude and soon getting the blood and feathers flying. Bassist Shane Embury is absent tonight, but it’s essentially the same band delivering a ferocious brand of grindcore, Barney’s epileptic dancing and robot-on-the-verge-of-imploding vocals pushing the needles firmly into the red. ‘Scum’ is a definite highlight, as is the obligatory Dead Kennedys cover version ‘Nazi Punks Fuck Off’, a song they’ve made their own and is proof as to why Napalm Death remain particularly pertinent.
Although they operated in a different sphere, Primus were another band like Napalm Death who made inroads into the mainstream consciousness without sacrificing their core sound/beliefs. This put the band in an enviable position: they could push the boat out as far as they liked without worrying about commercial considerations, and they left behind a trail of vinyl that sounds as fresh today as it did when first released. After a brief intro tape, Primus arrive with ‘Those Damned Blue-Collar Tweekers’ and from here on they take a deep dive into their back catalogue, pulling out fan favourites, rare cuts and a few surprises. However, first we must try to look past bassist and vocalist Les Claypool, which is no easy proposition; he attacks his instrument like a lead guitarist, and his virtuosity is captivating, making it hard to tear your eyes away. Primus form a tight unit, three musicians who lock in tightly to make sure the likes of ‘Seas Of Cheese’ have groove and swing at their core. A neat cover of The Residents’ ‘Hello Skinny’ is tossed into the mix to ensure the set ululates perfectly whilst ‘Jerry Was A Race Car Driver’ makes for an explosive closer. Primus were burning with full flame.
Saturday 22nd August
Ethereal and otherworldly, Sara Zozaya makes the perfect start to our day; her sound is a gateway into another dimension. The cascading waterfall and cloudy skies that form the backdrop are the perfect analogy for her sound; it captures the essence of nature and provides the crowd with some much-needed sustenance.
ArcTanGent is probably the only festival where we could go from the sublime sound of Sara Zozaya to the eclectic Erotic Secrets Of Pompeii without missing a beat. Lounge music filtered through the sensibility of Captain Beefheart, this crew have a set of songs that bounce around like Satan on a Space Hopper.
Raw emotion drips from every note Kathryn Joseph plays; it’s ivy that entwines itself around the listener and digs its roots deep into your soul. An invisible bond not only connects the band members, but also binds them to the crowd; their songs are unifying, and in our age of division, that’s a good thing.
Jo Quail And The Crossbones Ensemble are a large collective, yet they are also very intimate, their songs forming a solid bond with the crowd. The brass section is totally cool and could soundtrack an uber-cool movie; the crowd certainly thinks so, and despite serious competition elsewhere, a full tent has come to witness their performance.
Having just released their critically acclaimed album, Takeoffs & Landings, you could say that Din Of Celestial Birds are flying at high altitude. They are certainly playing like it, their songs being musical photographs which capture specific moments in time. Wide and expansive sonic vistas inside, where the band sweeps and soars, or tether us to the ground with earthshaking beats; Din Of Celestial Birds’ genius lies in perfectly balancing the two.
Appearing in what look like bio-chemical suits, Gösta Berlings Saga are scientists of sound, moulding and sculpting sonics in strange and unusual ways. The synths have a very retro, 1970s feel, yet they are also oriented toward the future. It’s very malleable and gives the impression that it could grow in any direction. The band leads us to some unexpected places, boldly going where no musical group has gone before.
With the band slowly appearing like a ship on the horizon, Oathbreaker make quite an understated arrival, yet there’s nothing retiring about their sound. The heavens open and the band unleash a raging tempest that rains down an emotive mixture of hardcore, black metal and post-rock. Their vocalist stands like a figurehead at the bow of a ship, bravely facing the storm, delivering a siren’s call that floats across the ocean and beckoning many a sailor to their doom.
Some bands seem to catch the prevailing zeitgeist without really trying, and that’s definitely the case with Oklahoma’s Chat Pile. As the American dream slowly turns into a nightmare, Chat Pile are its living embodiment, delivering a set of caustic songs that are spiky and angular and teeter on the edge of destruction. Unshod and bare-chested, their vocalist stalks the stage as if a caged tiger and operates with the same kind of drunken wisdom as The Fall’s Mark E. Smith. Living proof that hard times create equally gnarly art.
Originally known as This Town Needs Guns, the consternation caused by that moniker called for a name change to TTNG in 2013, but (thankfully) there was no shift in their sound, the band’s emotive brand of math-rock staying constant. That’s precisely what they serve up this evening: intricate rhythmic patterns and a canvas painted with primary colours and pastel shades. They’re exactly the right band for this time of day, a sense of joy emanating from the stage as friends indulge in something they love; it’s highly addictive, and TTNG get the good vibes flowing.
Hailing from the Faroe Islands, Eivør is an artist who draws deeply from the well of Scandinavian culture. Yet, her vocal style is equally influenced by beatboxing, heavy metal and throat singing. It’s a nice mixture of the antiquated and the modern, one that will reverberate throughout the set as traditional instruments mix with contemporary sounds and Faroese words blend with English. It creates a multifaceted experience and means Eivør won’t be forgotten in a hurry.
Some bands are born with the revolutionary flame, and High On Fire are a prime example. Formed in 1998, they’ve ripped up the rulebook, rewritten it in their own image, and forged their own path for over a quarter of a century. It’s an approach to music that requires focused single-mindedness, and that’s exactly how the band operates tonight. They are an unstoppable force, a runaway juggernaut or a 900lb gorilla on a naked rampage; you feel that once High On Fire are in their zone (as they are today) nothing can halt them. In fact, if they were to drop a nuclear bomb on Fernhill Farm, then High On Fire would still be playing amongst the smoking ruins. From the furnace blast of opening track ‘Burning Down’ to cataclysmic closer ‘Darker Fleece’, High On Fire deliver an abject lesson in heavy music.
Back in 2015/6, a very special collaboration occurred between Cult Of Luna and Julie Christmas. The fruit of that union was the Mariner album, a record that hit the creative bullseye and scored universal acclaim from fans and critics alike. The last ArcTanGent to be held at this venue requires a unique performance as a send-off, and that’s exactly where Cult Of Luna and Julie Christmas step in. With Mariner celebrating its tenth anniversary, they join forces to play that album live and in full. The anticipation for this set has been bubbling ever since it was announced, and it all conspires to create an air of expectation tinged with tension, and you can feel it melt away when Cult Of Luna appear along with the riff to opening track ‘A Greater Call’. They’re welcomed with a deafening roar, and it rises to a fever pitch when Julie follows, wearing a futuristic helmet, to add her vocals to the proceedings. Performing the album in full and with the same running order, Mariner is given added impetus by these live renditions. While there’s been no radical overhaul, these songs have an urgency that’s in tune with the album’s theme. The interaction between the two artists is spellbinding, with each playing to the other’s strengths; there’s plenty of room for each to display their various talents, and as ‘Cygnus’ fades into the ether, it leaves us with the feeling that we’ve seen something very, very special.
Words & Photos By Peter Dennis
