Reviews / simple things
Review: Simple Things – ‘Testing the boundaries’
A disparate clutch of venues make up the Simple Things landscape, from the familiar cocoon of Strange Brew to the vertiginous auditorium of Bristol Megascreen, the back room of Rough Trade, Zed Alley‘s cosy cavern feel and the Sportsmans pub, where the onscreen footie is drowned out by thrashing guitars.
The Beacon is at the epicentre of the action, glowing into the early hours as festival-goers flit back and forth between the venues.
The formal setting is an unusual backdrop for many of the acts lined up today which is a large part of this festival’s unique appeal. Often it feels as if an artist is deliberately playing with this incongruity, throwing out a challenge, testing the boundaries of both venue and audience.
The day makes a typically unexpected start, as snooker star DJ Steve Davis opens proceedings with his trademark mix of synths and gadgets forging industrial electronica complemented by Stunty’s warm thread of soul on vinyl.
Snooker champ Davis took up DJing nearly a decade ago, appearing at Glastonbury in 2016 – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
The pair improvise for over two hours, wandering and responding as the mood takes them to create a wonderful metallic wall of sound, building a buzz of anticipation among the gathering crowd.
Then comes the wholesome presence of Rich(ard) Dawson in the Beacon Hall: arguably one of today’s two headliners, the much-anticipated artist tops the programme that is tailed by the Bug in the same room roughly nine hours later.
Big Jeff Johns was in attendance all day and was one of many thoroughly enjoying the Zawose Queens – photo: Ursula Billington
There’s a sense of joie de vivre in the building with Zawose Queen’s joyful Tanzanian rhythms, vocals and barefoot bouncing getting the Bridgehouse stage (aka foyer) moving as the long line of Dawson fans snake past and up into the hall.
A pindrop response meets the shambling bard of the North East, the audience hanging on his every breath, his command of silence almost as effective as his inimitable storytelling and falsetto, glorious despite his self-proclaimed nerves.
Dawson began his set solo and was later joined by a drummer who sensitively complemented his sweet fables and prog rock-outs – photo: Ursula Billington
His 1964 Burns Nu-Sonic is melodically fingerpicked then discordantly thrashed through a cocktail of pedals, adding a spicy edge to what could otherwise be too easily categorized as roots or folk. As it is, he brings new authenticity to the overused ‘genre-defying’.
Dawson’s poetry of the prosaic warms from the inside out, and does absolutely nothing to prepare us for the carnage to come.
The Newcastle-born musician has a cult following and the Beacon hall was full for his 3pm show – photo: Ursula Billington
Large-scale visuals take centrestage at the Megascreen, where a reflective experience is encouraged from the confines of the comfy seats but nevertheless gives way to dancing in the rows later in the day – notably, BABii’s saccharine vocals and acid trip visuals get people up and vibing.
For Sculpture, though, the audience is in contemplative mood as colourful bubblehead cartoons, old negatives and fractals are spun and projected live on to the giant screen to a glitchy soundtrack.
It’s an unsettlingly immersive experience, like being inside a computer as it acquires consciousness and processes the entire history of humanity; and while it’s absorbing, it’s also a little dizzying.
Sculpture: spinning visuals and glitchy sounds makes for a dizzying experience – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
Meanwhile, Teke Teke’s theatrical space rock is taking the Bridgehouse by storm. The Montreal-based Japanese psych band’s flamboyant outfits and playful presence belie their infectious groove with heavy no-frills drums and powerhouse vocals.
Teke::Teke, undoubtedly one of the standouts of the day, brought the Beacon foyer to life – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
They elicit a wild response from the crowd, given permission to move with abandon.
A huge crowd gathered for their full blown psych-rock with added theatrical flair – photo: Ursula Billington
A brief sojourn in Strange Brew feels comforting, a positive breather after the breathless spectacle of the Beacon today.
Horse Vision provide an appropriate soundtrack for such a moment: introspective guitars, dreamy sad-boy vocals a la Bon Iver or Belle and Sebastian and stitched together electronic elements, the familiar sounds wash over the room. “Nice enough,” says one reviewer, giving side-eye.
Insipid? Nevertheless Horse Vision had a role to play – photo: Ursula Billington
It takes just two – albeit lengthy – songs from These New Puritans to establish their sparse instrumentation and melodramatic emoting is not the one, at least not right now, although the packed Lantern tells a different story for many here.
These New Puritans’ lengthy piano-and-voice introduction was enough to put these reviewers off – photo: Ursula Billington
Succumbing to momentary mood is all-important to maintain a 14-hour gig binge, so it’s across the corridor to a full-to-bursting main hall captivated by the moody poetry-led post punk of Dry Cleaning.
Florence Shaw’s energy is magnetic even as she intones expressionlessly, motionless but for an enigmatic shoulder roll or flick of the hair.
The hall was full for Dry Cleaning – photo: Ursula Billington
It’s a big crowd enjoying a big show, possibly the biggest of the day, reflecting the band’s recent mainstream success though they’ve been on many a radar since their critically acclaimed debut in 2021.
All eyes were on vocalist Florence Shaw, while bassist Lewis Maynard provided excellent value – photo: Ursula Billington
Back across the corridor, Blackhaine comes out spoiling for a fight and is given every reason to start one, afflicted as he is with insurmountable sound issues. In almost black-out dark, the crew stalk the stage menacingly: an intimidating start.
Tom Heyes leaves the stage and remaining members of the collective glower at the crowd from under their hoods, spliffs aglow. Returning, he throws himself into the crowd. The tension doesn’t dissipate and it’s a confronting, testosterone-fueled performance, not for the faint-hearted.
Sportsmans is just up the hill from the Beacon yet it feels like a world away. Bristol’s HAAL throw everything at their dark synth-driven post punk.
The incongruous setting made HAAL’s set all the more riveting – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
Stacks of board games, a moped and vintage radio provide a dissonant backdrop to their moody set, their beautifully fractured melodies studiously ignored by the sports fans glued to the small screen in the front bar but much appreciated by the large attentive crowd.
Later, the dancing to Y’s synth, sax and rock’n’roll make the bar’s floor actually shake.
Making use of two synths, bass, guitar and drums, HAAL serve up a solid foundation of noise – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
The Bug’s show is the moment so many have reportedly been waiting for, though from the space in the Beacon Hall it appears a significant number have succumbed to festival fatigue and drifted home.
It is an apocalyptic assault on the senses in the best possible way. Pitchblack with intense red flashes, billowing columns of smoke fill the stage, backlights throwing the five MCs into silhouette. This is dub, bug, but not as we know it.
The Bug’s show was a convergence of heavy layered textures, dubstep and grime – photo: Ursula Billington
The bassline doesn’t let up, vibrating chests as Flowdan, Warrior Queen, Manga Saint Hilare, Logan and Magugu trade verses, their quick fire flows relentless, the energy intense.
It’s disorienting as the rhythm stutters, the drop never coming quite where expected; but it’s immersive, discomfiting and energizing in equal healthy measure.
Ultimately, it’s Warrior Queen’s lyrical dubwise vocals that are the star, ringing out over the fading bass to resolve the room’s tension.
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Emerging from the Bug to the Bridgehouse, Factory Floor’s DJ and live percussion set-up provoke dancing on the steps above the stage, euphoria rising like steam from the seething mass of bodies below.
Glasgow’s Vlure are clearly disappointed with the scant handful in the room and it is a shame as their lyric driven punk-rave is attention-grabbing and danceable.
Down in the foyer, Ceephax Acid Crew is giving it some to an appreciative crowd who, at 1am – perhaps – have had enough of being pushed to the brink and just want a good boogie. Elsewhere, the afterparty rages until 4am.
Ceephax Acid Crew, aka Squarepusher’s brother, had the late night Bridgehouse crowd in his palm – photo: Lucy Langley-Palmer
A sense of regret is a common affliction for a post-festival Sunday. It’s never possible to see it all, but the diverse curation of Simple Things makes this feel so much more of an injustice.
Team Love, the Beacon and Crack magazine might seem unlikely bedfellows but they’ve created a potent bit of magic here – the wild, unpredictably crackling kind.
Of the festival, Reuben Cross of Far Out said: “Going in with any sort of schedule in mind is totally pointless”. The seasoned festival goer might sniff at such an approach but with Simple Things, this really is sage advice.
Go where the sound takes you, explore all the venues along the way, trust in the festival overlords and expect the unexpected – and you’ll still be surprised.
Main image: Ursula Billington
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