This year is a bittersweet one for ArcTanGent Festival, as it sees five-thousand music fans flock daily to the beloved Fernhill Farm site for the 12th and final time. Fear not though, for the award-winning small music festival is moving on to pastures new to start afresh in 2027 in Gloucestershire and state that their goal is to maintain the intimate scale, which makes it such a beautiful and safe community.
So, whether it is the stellar line up of Primus, Chelsea Wolfe, and Cult of Luna (performing Mariner with the inimitable Julie Christmas) or the announcement of the move, it is the busiest weekend yet, selling out well in advance, including the daytrippers, who are most likely there for Primus.
This festival is wonderful, inclusive platform for oddities and celebrants of the weird and wonderful, dark and ethereal, cathartic and joyful. Boasting a plethora of genres (and many genre-defiers) means there is something for everyone—indie rock, post punk, death metal, black metal, folk, sludge, doom, electronic, post metal, mathcore, and plenty bands to curate a musical journey that blends many of these. This year, it is impressive to see quite how many femmes are to grace the stages, whether fellow musicians, or fronting bands such as in two headline slots, Chelsea Wolfe, and Julie Christmas. There was plenty of gender diversity throughout the show. Opener IAN was lead by cellist Hannah Asprey, and the three solo acts Eivor, Darkher, and Otay:Onii absolutely killed it, not to mention the brutal Pupil Slicer and fucking OATHBREAKER! Even in this day and age, it IS still a big deal, and worth celebrating to see women in heavy music.
Wednesday
Wednesday is an extra option for those that want a little more music, and (mostly) features favorites from the previous year as well as special headliners. After wrestling with traffic, and the various stresses of a camping festival, greeting old friends, and raiding the still cool pack, Wednesday kicks off a little later in the day (after Swamp Coffin, The Grey, and Chalk Hands) with the beautiful tear-jerkers from Ireland, Overhead The Albatross.
A wonderful discovery from last year, the Dublin sextet play a rousing and emotion-laden set of dance-y electronic post rock and metal with interludes of spoken word and poetry. Euphoric dance music transitions into sorrowful orchestrations and piano, violin, groovy, math-y, shimmering, looping, layered guitar licks, rumbling bass, crashing percussions is woven with spoken word poetry.
The last track, “Paul Lynch,” dedicated to fallen comrade and fan, is a song that confronts grief but celebrates life with an upbeat primitive percussive, sweeping orchestral and electronic arrangements, and ends with a defiant chant which leaves most eyes in the crowd glistening, if not streaming. A rollercoaster through a gamut of emotions, especially with their moral political stances (Free Palestine!), acknowledgment of both the devastating pain of death, but also a celebration of life. Much like their Irish contemporaries God is An Astronaut, there is no doubt these Dubliners will continue to ascend the musical realms, and they were undoubtedly a highlight of the first day.
Sans Froid is an altogether very different experience—Avant-garde is probably the best description. Any lingering sorrow is replaced with straight-up joy from the vibrant performance. Wonderfully wild weirdness not dissimilar to that of Primus, with Bjork and The Mars Volta thrown in for good measure. Driven by the powerhouse high-octane vocals and dizzying piano from Aisling Trafford as well as piercing distorted guitar riffs and the jazzy, artsy, and atonal background, they captivated the crowd. It is unfortunate that the guest vocals of Ellie Godwin (Peach and No Violet) got a little lost in the clamorous mix, but overall, it was a clever clamor and OH so fun!
Next up was another act ascending the ATG ranks due to their popularity last year, Amenra-style emotional post metal doomsters Dimscûa. They played to a packed-out PX3, so I could only watch from the side of the tent, but the melancholic vocal delivery and transcendental wall of sound was still powerful enough. It reached, and tugged, my heartstrings.
Today marked the last performance of Bristol’s Svalbard, and Serena Cherry’s high-octane vocals filled the Bixler which was packed with emotional fans bidding farewell, while their melodic hardcore is just not my jam at all, they have clearly made an indelible mark, and it is an explosive finale.
Back on the Yokhai is a sharp turn into even more wild and whacky territory with the polarizing “what-genre-even-are-they” Cardiacs. Eccentric and eclectic is an understatement, and while not quite getting it at first listen online … NOW I do. Performing as an octet, they explode into life with the vibrant “Ditzy Scene” the first track of their delayed release LSD, which was created in tribute to fallen frontman Tim Smith. What follows is a range of circus style songs from over the years—a carousel of delightful chaos. With crescendos of insanity, proggy with elements of punk and grunge thrown into the erratic mix, they finish with aplomb with the cacophony of “Big Ship.” Someone dubbed them as The Mars Volta meets Medieval fair, and they are not far off!
Headliners SiKth certainly attract a huge crowd, though personally I am really not a fan of the watered-down version of their once-far-more-extreme sound. The wailing, borderline-emo vocals over the frenetic background is just too messy and confusing, though the eager crowd lap it all up in a frenzy of circle pits and crowd surfing. I stayed to watch with hope for nostalgic hits, but all we get is a tease of “Pussyfoot.” SiKth are ArcTanGent veterans and a good fit for sure, especially with the mathcore meets extreme metal. Apt headliners overall … in my opinion, it should have been the Cardiacs, but you can’t win ’em all.
Irish lads God Alone are one giant ball of energy, having risen up the ATG ranks with their wild mix of, well, everything. Tonight they performed in silent disco mode. They started in a Mars Volta-meets-Converge with dance-y electronic beats kind of way. By the end of the set, they have covered an amalgamation of classic ATG bands, from indie to mathcore to post and black metal. They do it so cleverly, (with a tongue-in-cheek vibe to boot) despite the sadly slightly muddied sound which is more likely due to the silent disco format. The vibrant and contagious energy in this mental mash-up has the crowd losing their minds in a sea of red from the lit up headphones, and it is a great party-tastic ending to the first night.
Thursday
After a poor sleep thanks to a torrential downpour and shivering all night, it is tough to make it to London’s IAN at 11 a.m., but cobwebs are well and truly blown away by their gargantuan sound—Godspeed You! Black Emperor meet Eye Hate God, transcending landscape. Existential and nihilistic post-hardcore sludge lead by resonating, elegant, vibrant, and mournful cello. They matched the temperamental weather, bringing a sinister storm of distorted snarls, ominous, crunchy, and clanging riffs, and earthshattering bass. This despondent cacophony was broken by occasional glimpses of hope in the stunning, poignant cello and shimmering guitar repeating but gathering momentum to the devastating finale, all set to a backdrop of bleak visuals, evocative of the state of the world they, and we all, are lamenting. They were heartwrenching, heavy as hell, and shell shockingly riveting.
They expressed deep gratitude as well as anxiety and overwhelm to be opening the main stage, but they proved their worthiness with the kind of brutal brilliance that leaves your jaw dropping further with each track. And their statements of solidarity against genocide and a focus on trans rights and support for queer friends alongside a subtle “set fire to your local fascist” made me a firm fan.
Last Of Eden, from Halifax, delivered the calm after the storm with a life-affirming, instrumental soundscape of shimmering, post metal, and reverb-heavy guitar with crashing, dynamic drumming where each track climbs up to dizzying heights. Even outside the busy Yokhai tent, the sound carried beautifully. This ambient atmosphere continued with Iskandr, a one-man act from the Netherlands, who immerses the main stage with “Psychedelic Folk Doom from the catacombs of Nijmegen. Dark medieval atmospheres, melancholic longing and regal triumph.” He plays a range of instruments including keys, harmonium bells, and brass, with ethereal, ceremonial chanting that rings out over the expansive, experimental, dirgey soundscapes.
Another polarizing act is Chinese-born, Berlin-based multidisciplinary Lane Shi a.k.a. OTAY:ONII, previously of Elizabeth Colour Wheel and recently known for joining the ranks of The Ocean. After hearing about her acclaimed performance at Roadburn, I was set for cathartic weirdness, and she is still blindsiding in her obscurity and visceral vulnerability, provoking the audience to leave in confusion and discomfort or watch in masochistic enthrallment. I, of course, choose the latter.
Draped in evocative, loosely crocheted threads of blood red, she writhes around the stage and snakes through the crowd, howling and shrieking like a wronged specter seeking justice. She smashed out a frenzy of discordant notes on a keytar, baring a broken and abused soul which is simultaneously healing it through the expressive form of art. An unapologetically unhinged and challenging performance piece, and a heady concoction of electronica, art pop/rock, and industrial harsh noise that is beautiful in its brutality.
Next up, the post-metal Belgian trio Psychonaut play a Pink Floyd-inspired hefty set brimming with growth, progressive riffs, and expansive, spacey psychedelia. Again, I watch from the outskirts of a packed main stage, but their sound is still pitch perfect with soaring, clean vocals that complement the plentiful, serpentine guitar noodling.
Next up on PX3 were a band I was very curious to see, the Swedish duo Floating. They more than satiate this curiosity, combining avant-garde death metal with post/punk and goth to make for a very interesting, punchy combination where Dissection meets The Cure. With the clash of cold, dissonant distortion and disarmingly warm groovy bass, blast beats and “disco beats,” the responsive audience mosh, attempt circle pits and head bang, with a delightful boogie in between. It is an unexpectedly clever experiment that works brilliantly, juxtaposing nihilism with carefree joy.
French post-metal band Alcest’s set was sadly cut short by 20 minutes due to transport issues. They still delivered a stunning 30 minutes of yearning, post-metal, French serenades, including the epic and spine-tingling sing-a-long tracks. Clean vocals soared over earnest, shoegazey guitar and thunderous drum and cymbal crashes in a waltzing rhythm pierced by anguished howls. Opening with “Protection” followed by “Sapphire,” “Ecailles De Lune Part 2” was the set highlight both for myself and much of the mesmerized audience.
I went on to catch some Shearling on the PX3, but I found myself not quite in the mood for the jarring, wild, and deranged clamor, which apparently became far wilder and left me wishing I had stayed. It would seem they were one of those lesser-known gems, so I shall look out for them in the future. I allowed my companion to drag me to Igorrr on the main stage, which—sorry not sorry—I just cannot get into, though I also cannot deny their talent of combining opera with progressive nu metal and can’t argue with the huge crowd gathered in their presence and raving about their epic-ness afterwards.
It was finally time for everyone’s favorite sad queen, Chelsea Wolfe. She was first meant to appear in 2020, but now, for those who are not at Zu (and what a mean clash), the time had come for what we had all been waiting for—with both apprehension and anticipation—what was bound to be one of the most emotionally upheaving but best experience in the history of the festival, and our own personal music lives, so far.
The graceful goth goddess’ vocals are honed to perfection, her appearance is exquisite, and as she opens with a spellbinding, lackadaisical iteration of 2015’s “Iron Moon,” she commands the crowd into silence. Elegant and ethereal, yet formidable—holding herself like an evil enchantress summoning an apocalyptic storm of chaos, which is also depicted in the immersive and explosive backdrop of fiery red lightning strikes, volcanic eruptions, and flowing lava. Wolfe was joined by Alcest’s Neige for ‘Vex’; his anguished screams complemented her haunting vocals perfectly, and it felt like a very special moment to witness.
Woven into the career-spanning set (which also includes “Carrion Flowers” and “Feral Love”) are three new tracks from the latest release The Dark which feature a pared down, moody Appalachian sound with acoustic guitar and tender vocals. First comes “Cold,” a ghostly ballad followed by “The Dark” and “Death is Not the End.” The thunderous closer “16 Pysche” is a personal favorite, and, predictably I do favor the heavier tracks, but it is clear that Wolfe is capable of weaving a magical tapestry of a gorgeously diverse range of styles and excels at it.
After this bewitching, turbulent journey through dark folk and doomy gothic blues, where minor and major keys meet moody electronica, many rushed off to the silent disco album listening party of her new, acclaimed album The Dark released on this very day. But I was truly entranced; I needed more than a few moments to process what I just witnessed with eyes full of tears and a gently soothed soul. I did not want to break the spell.
Photos by JacQue Photography | Words by Abi Coulson
Day 1
Day 2
