The Stool Pigeon music newspaper

At some point during the Green Man festival, New York songstress Diane Cluck calls out, “I like how no one is complaining about the weather!” Which begs the question: who exactly has Diane Cluck been hanging out with? And in which hole?

The topic of the weekend is rain: rain that takes an area of unspeakable beauty in the Brecon Beacons and turns it into a giant urinal for the gods to piss in; rain that, in turn, pisses on all the Green Man team’s meticulous planning. Many people have spent a year working on bringing us a perfect boutique festival - organic food, family play area, great acts in small spaces - and all everyone can think is: “How did I not fall down that mudbank?”

So maybe I was a little slack with watching bands. Maybe the most I saw of Joanna Newsom was her jean-clad backside as she wove through the main stage crowd on Saturday, boyfriend Bill in tow. Arriving late at the Folkey Dokey stage for Fridge, I also make the mistake of asking bassist Adem what time they’re on.

“That was probably our last ever gig.” he says helpfully.

But that’s the kind of festival Green Man is. Spit and you’ll probably gob on a performer you know and love. It’s this kind of intimacy that has me drawn to the Green Man Café, a tiny bandstand of a stage in the courtyard of some medieval castle. It’s here that I see Diane Cluck’s truly astounding set, during which she seems fazed by the amount of people crammed in to see her. It’s also where I see the Fence Collective perform an unplugged guerrilla gig, using nothing but voices and tambourines. Surrounded by turrets, climbing ivy and people dressed like, well, Joanna Newsom, they could almost be a band of travelling minstrels from another time.

There’s an ethos here, I just know it.

If the ethos has anything to do with quality, then someone forgot to tell Robert Plant. Watching him groove to his own psychedelic, folk rock waffle is a painful business. Is this really all they could pull out for a Saturday night? Actually, no. Across the way, past what is either a large crowd of comatose Zeppelin fans or some trees, Brooklyn’s Battles are playing the set of the festival, if not the festival season. I can’t believe how much they’ve tightened up. Supporting Animal Collective at the Astoria last year they were clever but meandering; tonight they are absolutely blinding, striking the perfect balance between chaos and concision, and out-shining their previous touring partners by far. Plus their single, ‘Atlas’, is inappropriately catchy. We’re still singing it as we drive away from the sodden Welsh valleys, missing an entire day of music in the process. Sorry, but it was raining you know.

More content of interest...

• Diane Cluck a genuine folk Muse (Posted in 013 October 2007 | International News)
• Battles / Barfly, Liverpool (Posted in 013 October 2007 | Sports)