Arctangent Festival @ Bristol Fernhill Farm, UK, 19-20/08/26

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Cover photo: Jez Pennington

Introduction

Our thirst and admiration for Europe’s festival culture here at Rocking.gr not only remain undiminished, but grow stronger year after year, so we explore as many places and events on the map as possible in order to share them with you and pass on this passion for the unparalleled feelings such an experience can offer. This road led us this year to England’s long-targeted Arctangent Festival. An event that began and remains mostly independent, hosting some of the biggest rising names in heavy music - you can find more about its lineup in our previous articles. This year, then, in the festival’s twelfth edition, we would encounter it at a bittersweet moment: despite its first resounding sold out, this year found it taking place for the last time at its home so far, Fernhill Farm. Of course, that does not signify its end, since its new location is already known and available; still, this year’s edition is also a final farewell to its home up to now.

In the reports about Arctangent Festival, you will allow the writer to make a few first-person singular digressions, partly because the choices among the notorious band clashes are based on her personal taste, but also because this festival will be also judged in terms of what it is like for a woman to travel alone for attending a festival. I will say in advance that I have only good things to say about that condition. A completely unexpected factor played a major role in these positive comments and elevated the entire festival experience into an unforgettable memory.

Photo: Joe Singh

I am referring here to the Arctangent Solo Community. Arctangent is neither the first nor the last festival where solo travellers organize themselves into a group to make things easier for one another. This particular group, however, is made up of some beautiful people. Some mad people like me and you, who love their music so much that regardless whether their friends are not willing to accompany them to a festival, that will not be enough reason to cancel. In fact, people came to the festival alone from as far as Australia, Brazil, the USA and Canada, some of them for the umpteenth time. And the truth is that from the very first minute you become a member of this group, you are no longer going to the festival alone. Within a few days you have found whatever camping gear you are missing from those who live permanently in England, a way to travel to the festival with company, merch, patches and stickers especially for you and your group, designed by members of the group, and friends you know you will remember for life, even if you never see them again - and this last part, I strongly doubt will happen. From here on, you will read everything about some bands we love, the organization of a wonderful festival, the adventures of me and all these strange new friends, but also the achievements of a strange pink creature with yellow spots named Blobby.

Day 1

The journey begins in idyllic Bristol, which of course we had sat down to enjoy during the previous days, in a hotel car park where four people, strangers to one another until then, struggle with board-game-jenga-level skills to fit their luggage and themselves into a car. Using every last available square centimetre, we manage it, and very soon ( relatively speaking, since the car could not get above second gear) after the necessary bonding, we arrive at the festival site. The route there, meanwhile, is beyond description: those green meadows from travelogues about England, the ones that look like the Windows XP background, spread everywhere - naturally, since Fernhill Farm, and thankfully Arctangent Festival’s next location as well, are within the historic British region of the Cotswolds.

Photo: Joe Singh

With the weather seeming ideal, though it eventually betrayed us, as you will learn later (fortunately for only one day) it was warm in the sun and cold in the shade, so the tents went up very easily and without sweat. The parking and camping areas were very easy to access and were divided into four zones: regular camping, press/crew/artist, the accessibility area for disabled attendees and companions, and VIP camping, a space much closer to the stages and its dedicated parking, with its own bar and toilets, as well as a special festival merch package as extra perks. There were also many options for ready-made, already pitched tents available to rent, as well as the possibility of staying with a camper van. In other words, every possible camping option existed. Foreshadowing a little, I will also say that the attendees kept the camping area in very good condition.

Inside the main festival area, we found four stages, only two of which operated on the first day, in the classic British plastic-tent format. In terms of facilities, I did not find anything missing. The only possible "complaint", which we did not even notice on the first day, was that there could have been many more toilets on site, since on the more crowded days fairly long queues formed for them. Otherwise, there were endless options for good-quality food, bars that served perfectly with returnable cups, a mini market with all the essentials, lockers and power for charging available to rent. There was also merch with many options - we loved and acquired the imitation "Magic: The Gathering" cards under the alternative name "Tragic: The Saddening", dedicated to the festival itself and its organiser.

In addition, various charities had their own place at the festival. From Heavy Metal Therapy, which holds conversations about mental health, to Frank Water, an organization that provided bottled water for the whole festival for a small fee, with its profits going to drinking-water restoration projects around the world. There was also a stall renting headphones, but we will talk about that at much greater length. Finally, I will dwell on the fact that the festival allowed you to bring your own food and alcohol, as long as it was not in glass packaging, something I have not encountered elsewhere and which made a very positive impression on me. As did how incredibly CLEAN the place was: even the few bits of rubbish on the ground were collected by people being there precisely for the purpose of cleaning up.

Photo: Joe Singh, The Grey

And after we’ve covered all the practicalities, the universe grew heavy. Wednesday is traditionally the festival’s gentlest day in terms of programme. There are no clashes between bands, everything alternates, while most of the acts had also played at the immediately previous edition of the festival. The event opened with the hard-hitting sludge of Swamp Coffin, who had already invited us earlier through social media to take part in the "slowest wall of death" in history. And so it happened, and the reality of Arctangent Festival began to take shape somewhere outside time, offering all the lucky attendees a breath away from miserable everyday life. The Grey came to lighten that routine even further; despite their equally heavy musical idiom, moving in post-sludge sounds, the final mood of their music fills you with hope.

Photo: Jez Pennington

Our route today takes place exclusively between the Yohkai and PX3 stages, and it does not take long to realise that the sound has been worked on carefully and particularly favours the bands. The first appearance I had been eagerly awaiting was that of Chalk Hands, because it is well known that you cannot take the screamo out of Eirini. The Brighton group has treated us very well with its two recent releases, and "The Line That Shapes The Coast Of Us" is among our favorites this year. Thrilled with their return to the festival, they truly gave their best, and we enjoyed that wonderful "Your Skin Is Gold". During Chalk Hands’ appearance, I also had my first encounter with a special festival figure: the Kermit the Frog puppet and his dad, who faithfully watched, sang along and headbanged to his favourite bands. Adorable!

During Giant Walker’s set, I devoted my time to discovering the festival grounds a little better, being there for the first time, and what I found satisfied me greatly - in case that was not already clear from the previous paragraphs. I also loved the fact that in the endless grass, music lovers were sitting down, on the ground or on chairs, enjoying new friendships and/or the music in the background. The press area was also nicely set up, where writers and photographers could work, arrange interviews - several will follow in the coming days! - have access to power, and chat among themselves, for goodness’ sake. On my first entrance to the area, I also met the festival’s mastermind, James Scarlet, with whom I exchanged a few words; he gave me the impression of a person with unquenchable enthusiasm for what he does, as well as someone slightly moved by how far people now travel for his festival - one of his festivals, at least. More on how I learned about James’ work and that of another gentleman in the second part of the report; there is a reason…

Photo: Jez Pennington, Overhead, The Albatross

At that second gentleman’s festival, last year we first encountered this untameable beast called Overhead, The Albatross, and we were left speechless. So we very quickly found ourselves at the barricades for a second round of the emotional explosion this particular band offers with ease. Based on their almost wordless post-rock, Overhead, The Albatross confirmed the initial shock they had caused me. Untamed energy on stage, with visible and limitless solidarity with Palestine, bone-crushing recitations, and pieces such as "Your Last Breath" and "Paul Lynch" are weapons in their possession that make them capable of winning the most unequal war. I am absolutely certain that travel fatigue was the only reason that kept me from bursting into uncontrollable tears. Wherever you come across this name, I urge you to get acquainted with their beautiful music.

Photo: Jez Pennington, Lost In Kyiv

One of the discoveries the festival itself introduced us to through its lineup announcement was Sans Froid. The local Bristol group has composed pop-rock sounds with a neoclassical hue, and the work they have put especially into their vocals is noteworthy. They recently released "Back Into The Womb", much of which we enjoyed, and we hope to discuss that release in more detail soon. The journey into post-rock continued after Sans Froid’s break with a major appearance by Lost In Kyiv. Enormous sound, unstoppable stage presence, and the brand-new "We’re All Going To Be Fine" stood beside Lost In Kyiv, who moved all of us below with great ease. Following them, the rising Dimscua also gave an excellent performance, which we left slightly midway through in order to take our positions for one of the day’s two most important events. Before I move on to those, I will say, to avoid misunderstandings, that one might perhaps notice I have very good things to say about all the performances I watched. This is not due to excessive zeal or poor judgement, but truly because each appearance surpassed the previous one, and the overall quality level was generally far above "very good" - an observation many people reached, as I discovered from later conversations.

Photo: Abbi Drapper-Scott, Svalbard

That said, this year’s edition of Arctangent Festival would not only be saying goodbye to Fernhill Farm, but also to a band I have loved deeply throughout the years it has been active. In roughly ten years of existence, Svalbard wrote music and lyrics that shook my sensitive strings and made me feel identification at many points. I loved them so much that I thought one of their lyrics deserved to remain in the history of my own local micro-community as a slogan. Although some comrades did not honour it, that was my own way of placing them within my small eternity. Closing this small, painful personal parenthesis, Svalbard had announced some time ago that their story could go no further, and that their final concert would be this one at Arctangent Festival.

The curtain opened with "Final Countdown" and a bittersweet feeling in the air that you could literally taste. "Open Wound" and "Faking It" tore our hearts out one last time. Dives into the past with "Disparity" and "For The Sake Of The Breed" honoured the entire discography. So what if I missed "Lights Out" and "What Was She Wearing"; our earlier meetings had soothed those needs. The sound became a little congested at points, but it did not matter much - certainly not as much as the congestion in our eyes. The curtain fell with Iron Maiden’s "Wasted Years". Leaving the Yohkai Stage, the rain began its first timid outbursts. In the nearest shelter I found to protect myself, I suddenly found Serena from Svalbard beside me, still in a state of not yet realising that this chapter had closed. We exchanged a couple of very personal words, cried a little, understood each other, hugged, and in any case time stopped for a moment, for two women sharing experiences through music. A sacred moment accompanied by the sounds of Papangu in the background. I had no strength to move closer to them; I put on my waterproof and walked in the rain to get myself back together.

Photo: Joe Singh, Cardiacs

Then came the moment that perhaps other people had been waiting for more than I had, but I will not deny it its magnitude simply because Svalbard’s lyrics were looping in my head. Cardiacs, one of Britain’s most historic rock bands, became topical again last year with the release of "LSD", closing a circle that had opened twenty-five years earlier. Honouring their new work, they incorporated it into this year’s live appearances, and this particular one at Arctangent Festival seemed to be among those they had been most eagerly awaiting. Their performance said it all. Restless despite the age of the members, and the audience’s response lifted the show higher minute by minute. Nevertheless, my own body had begun to give up a little, while at the same time the rain, which was supposed to last only an hour and a half, had exceeded that and was growing stronger. I listened to Alpha Male Tea Party and SikTh from afar, sitting in a shelter, making every possible effort to endure as long as I could. The good news is that this was the only time I struggled to finish the day. The bad news…

Day 2

The rain ultimately never stopped all night, and however good a tent may be in that situation, a little water will get in. Fortunately, knowing this, we had secured all our belongings well enough and did not mourn any casualties; however, we woke up two or three times because of the rain, and just when we said, well, it will stop, let’s go see some concerts, an even stronger downpour began. Everyone was telling me to get up early and go see IAN, a line that has now become something of an inside joke in the solo travellers’ group. Forgive me, though, IAN, Sleemo, LOE and Terminals: at the time you were onstage, I was carrying out flood-prevention works at home - loosely translated as "removing water from the tent with a towel". I was certainly more effective than the Greek state in the field of flood-prevention works, but it cost me time. A small adversity, of course, that an experienced camper knows how to handle; we solved it, the sun came out, and we went to drink our coffee with the relaxing music of ISKANDR, which was exactly what we needed to leave the weather’s difficulties behind us once and for all. Besides, from this point on, the programme grew heavier, with four stages operating and always the choice between two artists - or seeing a little of each - hanging like a sword of Damocles over our heads.

Photo: Carl Battams, Otay:Onii

We then split the appearances of KLAMP and HAAL in half, before standing at the main stage, which would be taken over by Otay: Onii. An old acquaintance thanks to the steady trust shown in her by Roadburn Festival, and having already enjoyed multiple appearances of hers in recent years, if you have come into contact with her art you know she will never disappoint you. With Björk as an icon but in a world entirely her own, where the spirits of Chinese mythology reign, Otay:Onii ploughs across the stage, most often with her beloved keytar, sometimes with fixed keyboards, always with her instantly recognisable vocals. Once again, the "shit lady" - a nickname given to her not disparagingly, but because of her latest album, "Love Is The Shit" - was overwhelming. The next choice was random, since I did not know either of the two bands in depth. Zeta lost, the lot fell to Pil & Bue, and further study of the Norwegian duo is now an urgent necessity, since especially the vocal melodies moved me.

Photo: Abbi Drapper-Scott, Psychonaut

But the continuation involved two sets I had been eagerly awaiting. I have seen Psychonaut before. But not like this. Not surpassing themselves and building sounds that open black holes in their path. Paternal loss, unity in general, and human contact and empathy specifically within the context of grief - as well as their latest album, "World Maker" - stood as powerful allies in an appearance that ranks among the festival’s favourites. Goosebumps rise and stand on end during "And You Came With Searing Light". We left ten minutes early in order to give due presence to Bucket, who were playing simultaneously on the PX3 stage. With Psychonaut, after all, we renewed our appointment for Athens.

Photo: Derek Bremner, Ronker

An essential stop was my new favourite discovery, found in the Belgians Ronker. You may already have noticed them because of that very distinctive cover of this year’s "Respect The Hussle, I Won’t Be Your Dog Forever". If not, do not worry; we will insist on them in the future. A revelatory performance with a lot of beautiful beating - the kind that includes embraces. An excellent bridge between punk and noise rock. An incredible freshness onstage that I did not get nearly enough of, and I demand a second round as soon as possible. Realising there would be no other chance for food that day, I listened to a little Nordic Giants and FLOATING from afar. A bit of a shame, because I heard the best things especially about the former’s atmosphere. But that is what a festival is like - fortunately, in Arctangent’s case, wherever you are, you can at least hear one stage. Besides, we were preparing to experience what was probably my favourite appearance of that particular day.

Photo: Joe Singh, Agent Fresco

In fact, a little earlier, while watching Pil & Bue, I left halfway through to meet Agent Fresco for an interview you will read very soon. You see, the beloved Icelandic prog guys returned to active duty after seven or eight years. Arnór and Hrafnkell welcomed me - I was completely unable to pronounce their names, so I did not try, nor did they try mine - with childlike joy, hugged me, and would not stop talking about how excited they were that the band was active again. Returning to their appearance, nothing had changed. With extreme enthusiasm, immaculate sound, and as if not a day had passed, Agent Fresco swept everything in their path from the boards of the Yohkai stage. Moved, they told us that the interviews they had given just before reminded them how much people love them and that they had never felt more ready. What a frontman Arnór is, though… without missing a note, he crossed the stage hundreds of times, the microphone cable acting as the band’s fifth member. He almost cried again without missing a note. The beloved "Pyre" and "Wait For Me" came alive before us again, we heard new music, and we travelled back into the past with "Eyes Of A Cloud Catcher". The only thing that slightly softened the previous day’s farewell to Svalbard was this new communion with Agent Fresco. The thirst for the new album was fed with salt.

Photo: Jez Pennington, Alcest

A small setback on Alcest’s way to the festival upset quite a few people, since their van broke down and they were considerably delayed in reaching the site, reducing their performance time as a result. Some people in the crowd were saddened by it - notice that I write saddened and not annoyed, which says a lot about the quality of the audience through that choice of verb - yet perhaps it was also a useful emotional pause after that death waltz with Agent Fresco. It would be foolish to say that the current version of Alcest is anything less than dreamlike. We enjoyed four songs instead of six, and we also faced some issues with the guitar reception at the beginning, but even that felt as complete as it could possibly be.

Photo: Carl Battams, The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza

And now the marathon begins! I intended to stay for the whole performance that marked the return of math/metalcore legends The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza. I did so for most of their set, which was one of the most wildly beautiful of the entire festival - shoes in the air, strangely not tap shoes, a silly mood, and a tremendous performance from the band. But something was eating away at me, knowing that at the same time the beloved Kvohst was playing one of his first shows with the newly formed Scorpion Milk, so even though my heart was not in it, I made my way to the Bixler Stage. Thankfully so, because toward the end we heard two Beastmilk songs there - do you have ten minutes for me to talk to you about our holy saviour, the first and only Beastmilk album? - and, let’s be honest, with such a strong "opponent", that stage needed a slightly bigger crowd. Unfortunately, we did not make it in time for the monster track "She-Wolf Of London", but we hope another opportunity will arise.

Photo: Joe Singh, Igorrr

The main stage was reserved for the already-won gamble of Igorrr’s appearance. The lights went down, balloons floated above our heads, and "Daemoni" opened the way for a frantic party whose ideal location, if it had one, would be somewhere inside the Paris catacombs. The recent "Amen", as well as "Spirituality And Distortion", naturally dominated the setlist. The presence of JB Le Bail and Gerda Iguchi on vocals enchanted with their theatricality, both in terms of their throats and their costumes. The lights felt like an additional member of the band. "Blaastbeat Falafel" live is pure enjoyment, just like its namesake food. Once again, though, after roughly an hour of losing myself in the rhythm of the music, I found the strength for betrayal, and my steps led me to PX3, because inside were Shearling, whose drone loops compose a particularly satanic liturgy. If you have experienced it once, you want more. At the same time, Rocking.gr’s magister Antonis Kalamoutsos was cooking up his review of their new EP. We, meanwhile, were sinking into chaos. Those of us who came out of PX3 were changed.

Photo: Abbi Draper - Scott, Maruja

I had told myself the big lie that I had seen Maruja something like seventeen times, so this time I would honour MOL. But I made the supreme mistake of stepping into the Yohkai stage for a little while, just for the sake of it. Well, I could not leave until shortly before the end. Maruja’s pure passion for the music they create, their inexhaustible intensity, and their obvious desire to connect with the audience and create a shared space at their concerts magnetise and capture you, no matter how many times you have experienced them live. Here in Athens we know this, because we have been lucky many times, but a saxophone leading the moshpit while slogans for Palestine dominate is one of the most demanding and necessary feelings of our time. I did go and watch ten minutes of MOL, unfortunately, but my mind was stuck on the saxophone in "Thunder".

Photo: Carl Battams, Chelsea Wolfe

If your mind dares to travel beyond the proud yet solid figure of Chelsea Wolfe when asking who the most powerful female presence in heavy music is right now, you are simply wrong. Chelsea has gone through phases of pain, phases of not being sure of herself, and all the things every girl in dialogue with herself over the fact that she is now transforming into a woman has lived through and shared with others like her. This current phase, however, on the threshold between the previous "She Reaches Out To…" and the forthcoming "The Dark", finds her standing as a matriarchal figure at the border between the real and imaginary worlds. The scale of the power she unleashes with every word, every touch of the guitar, every seemingly frozen glance from her sparkling grey eyes, is unbearable. Her faithful band completes this frame around her towering figure, adequately defining the meaning of community and team. In front of the impressive lights, classics such as "Carrion Flowers" and "Feral Love" moved us. The brand-new album shone through the singles "The Dark" and "Cold", and above all through the supreme "Death Is Not The End". We remembered Mark Lanegan with "Flatlands". But by far the greatest moment of this appearance came when, during "Vex", the figure of Neige from Alcest emerged through the smoke to accompany the priestess of our religion with his growls. I still think about it and swallow hard.

I was genuinely very ready for the night to end there, but I decided to make my first attempt at cooperating with, if you remember, that headphones stall. Within its programme, and so as not to disturb anyone during the late hours, Arctangent Festival includes a silent disco schedule: at first, a band plays live and you hear them only through the headphones; afterwards, you dance to a DJ programme, again through the headphones. More about this strange party in the description of the following day. On this particular night, we watched and listened to Bruised Blood for a little while, but then stopped for a lovely surprise: Chelsea Wolfe’s new album, "The Dark", would be played in full through a Silent Disco channel. So I isolated myself in an idyllic spot and let myself get acquainted with the new music. You are going to like it very much.

To be continued…