Festival No. 6 - Portmeirion, North Wales - 14th-16th September 2012 (Live Review)
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Written by Ben Bland
There’s no substitute for location sometimes. If someone put The Horrors on in at the Royal Albert Hall I’d probably think they were the intriguing modern shoegaze icons that everyone else seems to think they are, place them in the distinctly less attractive setting of Islington Academy and I’d opt to drown out my apathy with overpriced lager.
Festival No. 6 proves the impact of location better than any other example I can conceive of. Set in the idyllic Welsh countryside, in the Prisoner famed village of Portmeirion, this is a weekend that gets away with a hell of a lot purely by virtue of where it is based. You would have to be a complete cretin to think that this is, in any way, a perfect festival. The organisation is largely appalling (especially on the first afternoon, when the information stand tells me “Oh, I have no idea how to get to the press accreditation from here mate”), and the musical line-up is frustratingly barren and one-dimensional at points. However, anyone with a heart and a soul would forgive Festival No. 6 its first year problems.
Sometimes in life there simply is nothing one needs more than to be in a wonderful place listening to wonderful music. Could anyone seriously critique the sublime beauty of having King Creosote showcase his position as the most underrated singer-songwriter in Britain in a small tent right next to the beach at sunset? Likewise, where else would you want to hear the spectacular tones of the Welsh Male Voice Choir than in Portmeirion’s delightfully styled Central Piazza? Sadly the 90s revivalism of a festival featuring severely underwhelming headline sets by Spiritualized (occasionally enthralling, mostly dull as ditch water), Primal Scream (laughably irrelevant and still reliant on a twenty-one year album to get crowds going) and New Order (toothless without Hook’s stage presence and suffering from ending their set with an insultingly awful version of 'Love Will Tear Us Apart') renders the complete bill one of mixed fortunes.
It is the newer artists that impress for the most part. Gold Panda is a tour de force of electronic perfection. The Invisible are as haunting as on record, whilst Everything Everything and NZCA / Lines are both well on the way to perfecting their electronic minimalism. When older artists do come through it is those that are perhaps somewhat unexpected. Gruff Rhys is delightfully odd, and the fact that he refuses to speak to the audience in English is immensely pleasing. A surprising highlight comes in the form of The Whip, who prove that they are capable of being a brutally efficient live dance rock force when the mood takes them. There are major disappointments though in the shape of British Sea Power, who seem completely disinterested, and Dark Horses, who have more bluster than their tunes merit. Next year could seriously benefit from a more varied approach to booking (the i Stage is almost completely full of very similar sounding indie bands) and more available options throughout the early afternoon, but this is some way from the genuinely bad start it could have been.
As a result of the not entirely successful musical bill, the rest of Festival No. 6’s attractions please all the more. The food selection may not be as boutique and unique as advertised but some of what is available is truly excellent - special shout-outs to Thoroughly Wild Meats and Barnaby Skyes Pies. Drink is mostly reasonably priced (apart from in The Kraken Rum’s own tent, where they charged considerably more than at the main bar a couple of minutes’ walk away), but somewhat lacking in choice. Whilst I was amused to find The Stoneboat DJ stage looking like a Kopparberg commercial, it was enormously disappointing to find no proper cider available anywhere on the site, and the real ale selection was average at least. More consistently pleasing were the re-enactments of famous ‘The Prisoner’ scenes, and some excellent talks from the likes of record label expert Richard King and multi-talented comedian/actor Simon Day.
In all seriousness, once the initial organisational annoyances had passed by, Festival No. 6 becomes one of the most pleasant ways to spend a weekend in the entire world. Never before at a festival have I been so content just to sit and soak up my surroundings, or so prepared to forgive some uninspired line-up choices. Although clearly undersold on this first year, the atmosphere is absolutely delightful and the sheer novelty of being able to stroll from a festival arena to the delectable village of Portmeirion is more than enough to satisfy anyone who loves the feel of a festival as much as the music. With a bit more attention paid to some of the basics (although the ambition of the organisers for the overall event should be praised to the hilt), this really could very easily become the festival of the British summer. Roll on 2013...
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Festival No. 6 proves the impact of location better than any other example I can conceive of. Set in the idyllic Welsh countryside, in the Prisoner famed village of Portmeirion, this is a weekend that gets away with a hell of a lot purely by virtue of where it is based. You would have to be a complete cretin to think that this is, in any way, a perfect festival. The organisation is largely appalling (especially on the first afternoon, when the information stand tells me “Oh, I have no idea how to get to the press accreditation from here mate”), and the musical line-up is frustratingly barren and one-dimensional at points. However, anyone with a heart and a soul would forgive Festival No. 6 its first year problems.
