Okkervil Overkill (End of the Road III)

Published on Sat 26 Sep 2009

I'm trying to watch Superbad on my big new telly, but I can't hear it because the police helicopter monitoring the progress of marauding Luton Town fans along Newmarket Road is making a right old racket. What a game! Cambridge went 2-0 up, and things were looking good, but as soon as Luton had a man sent off we knew full well it wasn't Cambridge's day. It happens every time. Even so, conceding 4 goals in half an hour to 10 men is pretty poor show. It was very exiting though, and good to see a real football team with more than 30 fans for once. It was also fun to watch the special police camcorder division following the Luton fans around all day - I guess they're making some kind of souvenir video...

I had a very nice time on Thursday supporting Mark Morriss from The Bluetones. He's a very funny man, and, it turns out, pretty good at cryptic crosswords. I thought I played pretty well and the crowd were quiet and clapped at the right times. Can't ask for much more than that. I've been a bit down ever since about not having anything else organised, but I'm sure I'll forget about it again soon. Setlist: Watertight, Muscle Memory, This Place is Dead Anyway, The Ghost of Paddy's Night Past (formerly known as Opportunity Cost), Edinburgh, So Finally a Love Song, Soaked to the Skin. It was a treat hearing a few Bluetones songs too, especially in such an intimate room.

So, the last day of End of the Road... We started out watching about an hour of comedy, the highlights of which were probably Isy Suttie because she's cute and Robin Ince reading from some crazy books. I'm not sure in what way Ben Goldacre is comedy, but his lecture about drug companies making up conditions to sell pills was fairly interesting. Also the surprisingly ubiquitous Darren Hayman did an amusing ukulele based song about a relationship from the point of the crocodile on a Lacoste shirt.

When our knees could take no more of sitting crossed legged on the pavilion (I'm still not completely sure what the definition of a pavilion is - does anyone know?) we went for a walk in the forest, spotting The Leisure Society on the weird little stage,

and playing a game of wood and rope hoop-la. Ciaran was knocked out in the preliminary round, and then Andy soundly thrashed me in the final by managing to get a hoop on something at only the 15th attempt. He was pretty pleased with himself.

We got some tasty sheep's milk ice cream (I double scooped and tubbed up the chocolate) before watching the first real music of the day in the Big Top - The Tallest Man on Earth (he's really short - get it?). He was good for a while but it got a bit hard to tell most of the songs apart, probably because I didn't know them. The last one - King of Spain or something - was great though.

Ciaran was extremely excited about seeing Bob Log III, even though nobody had really got it last year when he played, so, in the absence of much else at the same time, we did that. He's pretty crazy - he plays really fast blues guitar while wearing a space helmet with a telephone mounted in, through which he sings nonsense lyrics, generally consisting of "Bob Log's gonna get ya" or "Bob Log likes to party" or "Bob Log's gonna get ya and make ya party with Bob Log" through, while playing a drum and cymbal with his feet, and wearing a gold catsuit. It was, in fact, really good fun this time, and made more so by an extremely drunk group of guys who were doing weird crab dancing, and secretly shooting footage with an old style cine camera not very well hidden in a wine box.

When he was done we wandered over to William Elliot Whitmore, who was kind of boring, but looked very cool

We saw Jason Molina, the singer from Magnolia Electric Co., last year, and he had a nice voice, but wasn't really gripping, and, despite there being a lot more going on, I thought the same about the band really. All I can really remember about them is that they played the first proper guitar solo that I'd seen all weekend, and actually looked like musicians are meant to. Those are both very large plus points I suppose.

Steve Earle was next, and I made sure that we were right up the front because I've not seen him for a good few years, and solo acoustic things aren't ever really going to work at a distance. The first real gig I ever went to (other than Richard Marx) was Steve Earle and The Dukes at Shepherd's Bush just after "I Feel Alright" came out, and I still consider it to be one of the best things I've ever seen. I've been wondering recently if music these days is generally less good than it used to be or if I'm just less easily impressed. I think the answer is, at least partly, that I used to see Steve Earle a lot more regularly than I do now. It was really special. He's just done an album of Townes Van Zandt songs that I've not heard, so there was a bit of material from that (Pancho and Lefty was brilliant), as well as a lovely one that doesn't feature on it called Rex's Blues. I'd heard it once before, when Earle sang it as a tribute at a solo show I went to a couple of weeks after Van Zandt died. It must be pretty good if I still remember it really clearly more than 10 years on. Maybe I should listen to more Townes Van Zandt. That song, combined with the fond stories he'd been telling about his friend (and how obviously upset he'd been at the show when I first heard it) made me a bit emotional, and when it segued into Fort Worth Blues I had to spend pretty much all of that, and the next song, attempting to wipe away tears without anybody noticing. I think the list of singers who've made me cry is up to 5 now, but I'm not totally sure. Other than one song from a recent album, that I didn't much like, I think everything he played other than Van Zandt was from El Corazon or earlier. Perfect. I can't overemphasise how great I thought it was. He made pretty much everyone else who makes music look a bit silly. There's an authenticity about him that makes acts like (for example) The Low Anthem, look like cheap imitations. It feels like he's from the last generation of "real" songwriters (Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt et al). I can't imagine anybody my age ever reaching such legendary status. 

Nothing was really going to top that, but Neko Case was alright. The banter was good, even if the songs are a bit samey (and I knew quite a lot of them from the one album of hers I have), and she's got a great voice and band. I got tired after a while though and went for a walk to get a coat and more beer.

When I got back I watched a bit of Richmond Fontaine, because I'd heard they were great, and I'll be checking them out further when I remember, because it did seem like they were. I was suffering slightly from post-Earle depression and the feeling that the whole festival was winding down (the crowds had been noticeably thinning all day).

I'd heard a lot about the headliners, The Hold Steady, but not actually heard them, and was pleasantly surprised with how much entertaining they were. An odd looking bunch though - the lead singer was an even shorter George out of Seinfeld yelling a series of one note songs about partying with young women in Minnesota. Still, I guess it shows there's hope for us all.

I watched until a couple of songs before the end and went to get some more jerk chicken (and, because they were running out of that, a generous helping of curried goat) before trundling off to bed. 

We packed up and rolled out bright and early the next morning, stopping off at the Little Chef at Popham, which is the one that was done up by Heston Blumenthal. It does a very nice breakfast - pretty standard line up, but high quality ingredients all the way. The black pudding in particular was excellent.

After getting back to Barkingside and cleaning up a bit, Severine and I went back into London to see Okkervil River again at the Scala. I was knackered, and wondered if it was a bad idea, but it was excellent again - not overly different to the End of the Road set (except we got Westfall) but I loved every second. I hope they come back soon. The support act, Wye Oak, were ace too - a girl on guitar, and a guy playing drums and keys at the same time.

It was a brilliant weekend. End of the Road has to be the best festival, in terms of music and food at least, in Britain, and when the weather is perfect and the company is good, I don't see how it could be beaten. Except maybe by having Steve Earle play for twice as long.

I was told to put this picture up the other day by Derren Brown, but I forgot.