All Tomorrow's Parties - Weekend 1

All you mud-caked, drum-beating camping cavemen, observe: you can have a music festival and also have a roof over your head, running water, electricity, and a festival made up of bands that actually have some integrity and talent instead of the legions of bill-propping soundalikes the majors are shoehorning onto the music agenda to try and spin a buck. And, when it isn't sub-zero and snowing outside, a long sandy beach, go-karts, an on-site supermarket, (very) late-opening bars, huge cheesy murals showing scenes from musicals, penny-pushing 'amusements', and everything else you would expect from a festival are here, at a seaside holiday camp.

For the uninitiated: ATP is a festival like no other. The organisers hand over the reigns to a different 'curator' each year, who can then select any lineup they like to form a kind of wish list, or "the ultimate mix tape" as Thurston Moore puts it. This year, the honour goes to reformed post-rock icons Slint, who chose approximately half as many bands as the ATP bill usual allows, citing band unavailability and a 'quality over quantity' policy as the reason, despite the relative obscurity of their selection. The festival sells out anyway of course, and with good reason.

Friday

Born Heller are batting first. The room slowly fills throughout their extremely quiet and low-key set, and the excited 'we're here!' buzz around the bar threatens to drown out their slow, folky strumming and clear, crisp vocals. Born Heller translate the gorgeous sound of their recordings well, and sound like they'd be perfect playing on a starry midsummer's night on the riverbank (these children are fair and have stars in their hair). But the occasion gets the better of them here. Upstairs, Sub-Pop signings Love As Laughter run briskly through some jaggedy indie-rock numbers. Nothing too memorable to report here, and as the crowd thins I remind myself to mention that they sound better on their forthcoming album 'Laughter's Fifth' than they do live.

Deerhoof were one of the discoveries of last year's festival (they played the Sonic Youth day of weekend two). Their avant-pop stop-start style is a musical juggling act held together by some impressive drumming by Greg Saunier - I'm left wondering if certain passages are improvised because they seem so loose and unstructured, but later find that they are exactly the same on record. Singer Satomi Matsuzaki chirps, gestures, spins and squeaks her way through the set, inscrutable but somehow really endearing. Deerhoof are the kind of band that would stand out wherever they played.

I'm not really familiar with The Melvins, bar a download that put me off because the singer sounded like James Hetfield. But, Jesus, they rock. They are profoundly metal, in the best possible way. You can hear glimpses of every major rock and metal band from the last decade in their sound: The Melvins do this so well, they make everyone else sound lame. Every hit of the snare is the final nail being banged into your coffin. Every stroke of the bass causes an earthquake somewhere on mainland Europe. Every tuned-down powerchord pops someone's eardrum. They are a force of nature, not a band. It sounds like there are three of every member: MASSIVE. There is a ragged and slightly nuts guest appearance from some scary old punker called Dave Yoick or something. The Melvins slay. And after everyone is slain, they keep on slaying, tearing full-throttle into neverending, pounding heavy metal jams with huge apocalyptic conclusions, until ATP is completely levelled.

Saturday

Brightblack prove to be a perfect hangover cure, and a revelation of sorts. They play a set of soft-focus, hypnotically slow hippie-folk, that sounds like it's swimming back against the tide of time; this really should have the crackle of ancient vinyl behind it. Brightblack is so relaxed, you can feel the stress draining out of the room. There is a kind of peace in Brightblack's music, a kind of purity, that you don't come across too often in these confused, highly-strung, ironic times. And everyone here gets to take a piece of it with them.

Mogwai have been working the loud-quiet-loud post-rock formula for years now. To my ears, they sound pretty much the same as the last time I saw them, at Reading, maybe five or six years ago, and there's nothing I like less than knowing exactly what to expect when I watch a band live. There are some new vocoder sounds and keyboard flourishes here and there, and 'Like Herod' sounds mighty when the wall of noise section kicks in. But Mogwai have failed to move with the times, and other bands are evolving this genre, and leaving them behind. I have to eat, so I miss Need New Body, which is a shame (Damn straight it is! Jealous NNB-loving Ed.), they sound all dancey and fun and have bright handmade clothes as their merchandise. Can't win 'em all.