A Band Called Quinn are a band with something of an identity… I’d not call it crisis, 
but at times it’s unclear if they’re going by their ‘full’ name or by the truncated ‘Quinn’ which happens to be the surname of singer Louise. Don’t get me wrong, they’re major favourites at itm? Towers, their Kid Loco-produced album a perennial favourite. But it’s never quite clear if we’re going to get full-on rock, whimsical electronica, or something more dancey.
As this is a festival set, it’s a sometimes awkward but often exhilarating mix of all of the above. They have – and this is a musical observation – had a recent Goldfrapp thing going on of late and to be fair there’s nothing wrong with big stomping electro anthems. In fact, Quinn’s weak spot is when they do generic rock. Which happily isn’t all that often – they’re strongest when they pitch their tent just on the quirky side of mainstream, and closer ‘DIY’ is a perfect example.
Kudos to the Edinburgh post-rockers The Gothenburg Address – for the first time in the weekend the sheer volume of their set not only subjects everyone’s ears within the festival site to a sonic assault, but also silences the appalling open-air disco situated a few yards away. This was one of the worst aspects of a close-to-perfect weekend, and one which acts on the main stage and Scooter Tent commented on and which if not sorted might see the Wickerman’s reputation harmed. See also: the bar system which though sped up in some senses by the token system, fails to offer half pints or a decent choice of lager or a cash-only window. Rant over. And see Tony Kiernan’s review for more fulsome praise of today’s loudest band.
Mr Kil‘s friends and family are out in force too, flyering all and sundry in an attempt to lure punters who – myself included – are unfamiliar with their work. This works out for them, as the curious and adventurous stay, perhaps to puzzle the band out. Full of interesting ideas and ambition they have some prog influences and a general Muse sound, but the delivery is strangely predictable – except when a Brel or Bacharach-style curveball in the form of a bizarre chord change perks things up. With very capable instrumentation they may have something, once they themselves figure out what that is…
Healthy Minds Collapse, again, are very capable at rocking out and check all the boxes for modern day rock. A three piece with a drummer providing backing vocals, heavily indebted to the sound of Seattle circa 1990… sound familiar? Ok, think Done Lying Done rather than Nirvana. That’s better.
There is a whole treatise on festivals and The Wickerman in particular which could be soundtracked by The Counterfeit Clash. Added at the last minute and ‘promoted’ by hand-written mini-posters attached to the pillars of the Scooter Tent, the CC have, literally, filled the sizeable arena, with grizzled punks without their moshing gear (or in charge of the grandkids) forced to watch from outside. Despite the headliners and Solus, Wicker is a ska and punk festival at heart and thus a band like this appearing on the bill really fits the crowd-pleasing angle – if they get it right. Happily, they have the whole Clash thing – apart from any cabaret lookalike nonsense – completely nailed. Rattling through everything from ‘White Riot’ to ‘Guns of Brixton’ it’s pretty much perfection guaranteed to irk the purist – who will find it impossible to complain at such an energetic and completely “does what it says on the tin” performance. And any old punks who cast aside their cynicism will have come away with the slight feeling that anything else will be an anticlimax.
That said, it’s as if our dash to the Solus Tent for More From Jim has had a Pied Piper effect – as the old punks stagger into the light again wondering what’s next, the tones of a 9-piece ska band (all barely out of their teens) will have pricked up the ears. A mini-set of witty and eminently skankable originals set them as a top-notch piece of entertainment. It all goes a bit odd as the end of the extended set is 100% covers such as ’99 Red Balloons’ and (apparently) ‘Moose Loose Aboot This Hoose’.
We say “apparently” because it’s time to submit to the Power Of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Sadly, not full-on Soul Power, as Gold Blade haven’t brought their own brass section, instead going for a set of much more grimy rock. It seems that John Robb’s capacity for a tune is matched only by his energy leaping the barrier from the off, and crashing through ‘Strictly Hardcore’ and ‘Black Elvis’ as if their lives depended on it.
Some lineup changes and cancellations mean that we can’t be 100% sure who is playing when. So, Sharks, on the main stage, might well have been the Counterfeit Clash. The vocals, the guitars… ok, they’re not actually doing Clash covers unless it’s a rake through Joe Strummer’s bin, but still…
To the Acoustic Tent, perhaps explaining the absence of Billy Bates‘ usual gamelan percussionist. The Falkirk singer-songwriter – that’s an approximate term – has brought a bassist instead but this ads to the bizarre mix of tunes and drones – think how Radiohead might have sounded if they’d formed in Tehran.
The Kabeedies sound familiar. Aha! They’re from Norwich. We can therefore employ six degrees of separation to explain how they don’t sound like neighbours Bearsuit, but ARE are like Los Campesinos, who of course sound exactly like Bearsuit. You see? Anyway, they make jerky indie pop which is likeable enough and may have enough to make them stand out in a crowded indie scene.
Despite the big names on the bill, Candi Staton may be the only bona-fide legend in the lineup. And as such she is probably entitled to let us know this, diva-style. We get all the hits that you’d probably forgotten about – including ‘Young Hearts Run Free’ of course, ideal for a sunshine singalong. She wows the crowd with tales of her considerable career, though there’s a strange appropriation of songs, announcing ‘In The Ghetto’ as a Grammy tune despite having neither penned or recorded the hit version, but we can forgive that – if not we’d have a loved up crowd to answer to who lustily agree in song that they have ‘Got The Love’.
Back to the Acoustic Tent (Stage?) we go… where Esperi, as it turns out, are some remnants of Dundee act The A Forest. Which is good news for any fans of that band or indeed of delicate alt. folk. They close with leader Chris dispensing with his harp and drums backing, and mic’ing up a curious collection of instruments and eventually looping the sound of them being struck, plucked and gently coaxed into producing a mesmerising ‘tune’ to close.
Closing the festival is the biggest clash of the weekend – electrodub legends Dreadzone the first in the two-leg tag match. They’re in mighty form as they kick into ‘Life Love and Unity’, but we figure that having never caught Penetration live, they tip the balance.
As it happens, Pauline Murray informs us that the band have never played in Scotland before, which seems a curious fact given their major label status in the 70s, and that they hail from just a few miles away in Newcastle. And this fact – that their back catalogue is presumably still ‘out there’ – means a fair few devotees have been waiting quite some time for their debut north of the border.
Murray seems to be slightly tetchy to start, fielding (inexplicable) requests for ‘Chinese Rocks’ and the like. However, their flawless version of ‘Don’t Dictate’ effortlessly winds back the years while ‘Movement’ and ‘Come Into The Open’ are highlights of a set that picks up where they left off in the early 80s – just like they’d never been away.
Returning in the darkness to the Summerisle stage, Dreadzone are on their ‘other’ hit – ‘Little Britain’, whose blend of sampled dub and dance beats acts pretty much as their signature tune. Advised that the middle part of the set was quite a disappointment with too much delving into the wilderness of their middle back catalogue, it’s perfect timing on itm?’s part, but perfection seems to be the theme, pretty much, for Wickerman 09.
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