Truck Festival Hill Farm, Oxfordshire 21-24 July 2022
Four days of sun, surfing and renewed energy set in the rolling Oxfordshire countryside. The returning, 25th anniversary, Truck Festival brings together a winning mix of top festival acts: new stars, rising stars, old favourites and representatives from the local music scene.
Located in a compact natural amphitheatre, Truck is a relatively small festival which brings together in one place many of the bands found spread out around the larger festivals. Over the four warm and sunny days festival goers saw a wide range of artists ranging from the well established through to the new. Several were now playing Truck following the two year hiatus and several have become better established since the start of lockdown in 2020.
Each act, famous or less so, was without exception received with the exuberance and pent-up enthusiasm resulting from two years denial. You can pretty much take it for granted that every band reviewed here, whether appearing on the Main Stage, Market Stage or The Nest stage included manic moshing, plenty of pogoing, jumping, kneeling, shoulder riding, crowd surfing and a circle pit.
Fontaines DC had been booked for Truck 2021 but whilst not scheduled for this year, echoes of their style could be found in several of the bands who were. Typically, angular or scratchy guitar-fuelled distorted post punk; charismatic angst-ridden intense lead singer; austere monotone social commentary lyrics, often part spoken, part shouted.
Leeds’ Yard Act played a short set early Friday afternoon to a very full, roaring Market Stage audience. Frontman James Smith oozes charisma and confidence. He must have been hot under in his incongruous raincoat but looked cool in his shades, stamping round the stage. Their angst and rebellion driven songs are dark but witty, humorous and ironic. Dead Horse highlighted Sam Shjipstone’s scratchy guitar and his guitar hero antics on Land Of The Blind lifted the excitement to an even higher level, solidly supported by bass and drums. Yard Act are incredibly good. I imagine they’ll take the money and be rich.
DITZ, a little later on the smaller The Nest Stage, are similarly post punk. Gloomy, doomy heavy bass and noisy distorted, effected guitars, their energetic crowd-surfing singer sported a colourful bobbed haircut. The stage and tent seemed a little small for DITZ. Their boisterous audience was ecstatic as the band went out in a blaze of feedback and synthesiser screaming.
Early evening Saturday saw Irish band The Murder Capital play the Market Stage. Another of the several post punk guitar bands, the spotlight was on vocalist James McGovern and his engagement with the audience, which once again included crowd surfing. The Murder Capital produce a powerful, occasionally hypnotic effects-driven sound. I was primarily impressed by how professional and skilled bands now are at using the technology available to them and the knob twiddling was brilliant. I enjoyed More Is Less most, but overall I didn’t feel the warmth or wit I’d felt with Yard Act and found myself yearning for a tune, a melody and some harmony (I was probably the only person in the audience who did not fully appreciate them.).
Another dark and intensive post punk band, in my view more tuneful, Shame are also much more interesting visually. It’s hard not to be reminded of Ian Curtis: vocalist Charlie Steen projects both menace and compassion, aggression and vulnerability, emphasising the music with taut, demonstrative frenetic movements in precise time with the music’s crescendos. But that’s not all. Bassist Josh Finerty careers arounds the stage like a demented Angus Young (without the school cap). Leaping around, occasionally somersaulting (was that deliberate?) he seemed to spend as much time hunting for the end of his dislodged guitar lead and replacing it back into his amplification as he did playing bass. But that just added to the performance. Superlative.
Irish noise punk band Enola Gay playing at The Nest Sunday lunchtime provide more of the same and are another guitar trio plus vocalist. More angst, more noise. They are perhaps a bit noisier, a bit punkier than some of the bands just described and the vocals are often processed through an echo effect. The throbbing bassist and drummer are solid and hold the music together – allowing both vocalist and guitarist to disappear into the mosh pit at the same time. The Nest tent is not very large but had room for a circle pit. Now I know how crop circles are made.
If it occasionally felt as if I’d got stuck in a noisy post punk indie LP groove, along came a band to jolt one out of the rut. Just Mustard are the same but a bit different. Irish, guitar-led, noisy choppy guitars, effects and so on. But where other bands pushed the energy hyperactively on stage, Just Mustard exuded a stillness: just the music moves. Vocalist Katie Ball stood upright, static behind her microphone, calm. It’s easy to get lost in the music, which could be hypnotic, droning and repetitive, but also jerky rhythms, noisy, nasty sounds, too. I found their music intriguing – not instantly likeable but it drew me in (I was occasionally reminded of My Bloody Valentine, though I’m not sure why). There was a lot of effects manipulation and I found myself trying to work out how some of their sounds were being made and manipulated. I think possibly the guitarists were, too. Highly recommended.
Occasionally huge surprises were thrown up. I knew nothing about The Hara (The Nest, Sunday afternoon) but was recommended to take a look. I’m not quite sure where to start as the performance was utterly bananas: a tattooed gang of vampires – Josh, Jack and Zack – took to the stage (Alice Cooper and Kiss have a lot to answer for). I hope they were being ironic, otherwise the world is much more disturbed than I’d thought. Vocalist Josh Taylor dressed in – I don’t know – a father Dracula coat? It doesn’t matter really as it didn’t stay on for long; underneath he was wearing, er, not much – mainly revealing black leggings. I can only describe Taylor’s image as the mutant offspring of a feral bat crossed with a red squirrel thrashing about in a bondage porn movie which had been produced by the Carry-On team. As mentioned earlier, I can only hope it was all in the spirit of fun and not to be taken too seriously. Especially once we’d got down to the underpants, the old-fashioned red telephone and the attempted sex with the Fender guitar speaker cabinet…
All this would probably seem pretty crappy if the band weren’t any good, but they – essentially a guitar and drums two piece (Jack and Zack, I guess, plus tape, samples or MIDI?) – were excellent. Ranging across metal, blues, a bit of prog here and there, lightning fast solos, they provided just the right support for the more ‘out there’ stage shenanigans. Hugely enjoyable.
At the other end of the spectrum there were plenty of enjoyable, though less frenetic performances. Lauran Hibberd (Main Stage, Friday afternoon) gave us a bright and colourful set of sparkling indie pop, typified by How Am I Still Alive?. I found her image and singing a little light and ‘girly’ but assume this is deliberate. Her band were solid and supportive whilst she bounced up and down at the microphone. Similarly, Brighton’s Orchards entertained us at The Nest late Friday afternoon. Led by vocalist Lucy Evers they made pleasant guitar/bass/drums melodic indie pop.
Another Irish band, Kynsy, gave guitar rock tinged with electronics, based around classic rock drumming, highlighted by classic distorted guitar solos. Again, I found the singer’s vocals and image slightly too ‘girly’. Pixey, from Liverpool, was delightful and lived up to her name. Playing early Sunday on the Market Stage she deserved a larger audience. Her band of guitarist/synthesist, bass and drums were bright and poppy and Pixey’s music has a certain 1960s psychedelic vibe going for it. Her smile brightened up the day; most enjoyable.
Orla Gartland (Market stage, Sunday afternoon) wowed her audience and even got me clapping and waving my arms – so that we displayed our armpits. Why Am I Like This hit a nerve and had the audience singing along in unison. References to Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill and Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way showed Gartland’s range. Another very enjoyable performance and an artist to watch.
Baby Queen (Main Stage, Saturday afternoon) was an unexpected revelation. Her songs are witty, funny and self-deprecating: I particularly enjoyed Wannabe (‘Be a loser like me’), Buzzkill and Lazy (I could lead the US Navy…..But I’m too fucking lazy) was just the tip of the iceberg. Her lyrics and songs seem lightweight at first, but her poppy approach hides a darker view of the world – depression, angst, uncertainty, the internet. She’s recently signed a new recording contract during lockdown and apparently has only just graduated to main stage appearances. Although she already has a substantial back catalogue, I expect she’s going to become an even bigger act than she is already – we’ll be hearing much more from Baby Queen. Her band is pretty good, too.
Jade Bird (Main Stage, late Sunday afternoon) was also very funny and bubbly, although this tended to be her between-song banter rather than the songs themselves. She has a clear voice and her acoustic, folky and country-influenced songs explore relationships during which, as she reflected, result in down beat songs. But she belts them out, especially on the piano-led Motto and on Lottery and I Get No Joy. There may be sadness but I was left feeling happy and exhilarated by her performance.
Truck has always featured and supported local bands and so a clutch of Oxfordshire bands were featured over the weekend. Joely delivered an enjoyable, relaxed folky set on the main stage. Her song Ice Cream seemed especially appropriate in the afternoon sun. Other Oxfordshire acts were mainly on the V&V (Veterans and Virgins) Stage. Slow Drift’s haunting vocals, beats and soundscapes plus bass and guitar seemed to be the product of a mature band. However the band were a transatlantic pandemic lockdown project – their appearance at Truck being only their first live gig and they’d only been able to practise together for a few days. I especially enjoyed Winter, which reflected lockdown and isolation. The band (like several others) took phone photos of the audience from the stage – which still always feels a little odd to me. I caught a bit of HOO on Saturday afternoon and would like to have heard more of their enjoyable cosmic dad-rock. Hopefully there’ll be opportunities to see them again.
Oxford’s reformed Stornoway performed on the V&V stage late Saturday night but I unfortunately missed them. The Dreaming Spires (V&V stage, Sunday evening) have a special place at Truck, since the brothers Joe and Robin Bennett were instrumental in establishing the festival back in 1998. Their Americana-influenced music – complete with Rickenbacker guitars and banjos – has a certain quirky humour. Their music is mature (as is their audience, so a pit circle, kneeling and jumping are unlikely) and the easy going, jangly songs are refreshing and relaxing. They provided an entertaining set and were joined by guest vocalists and brass players. They finished their set with a rousing version of Dusty In Memphis (“you know you got soul” and we all felt it) and everyone left happy.
Mid-afternoon festival sets can be slightly anti-climactic, especially as initial enthusiasm can begin to wear off and festival goers chill out a bit before revving up for the evening’s entertainments. Not the case this weekend. Noisy (Main Stage, Saturday afternoon) were, well, noisy. Their dynamic synth and beats based crowd pleasing songs go down well with the large audience. Hard drumming and soaring synths, plus the first reference to “Praise You” during the weekend, drive a dance rhythm and their rave-oriented music sustains the audience’s energy – and need to jump, wave, kneel and crash about – through the afternoon.
Noisy were followed by Spector. I didn’t warm to their set, and references to COVID pandemic conspiracies, Princess Diana conspiracies and Monkey Pox just seemed unnecessary, confusing and not funny. They thump, thump, thumped their way through their set; All The Sad Young Men was the standout song and it has to be said that the audience received the band warmly, and vocalist Frederick Macpherson had them shoulder riding en masse.
Leicestershire’s Sea Girls followed. They are very popular – the audience was greatly enlarged for their set and it became a bit tight at the front, so my view was somewhat restricted. Their guitar rock bounced along anthemically and the audience bounced along with them. Vocalist Henry Camamile changes to an acoustic guitar for Lonely, an exuberant audience singalong.
Sports Team fill the similar slot on Saturday afternoon – they might be the perfect late afternoon festival band. They get a raucous reception and the collective energy is palpable. Their music varies from punk through to straighter rock, with touches of synthesiser (for some reason the Buzzcocks came to mind at one point, which seems odd). Vocalist Alex Rice appeared to be dressed as a gold and black matador but it might have been a sci-fi costume. He strutted the stage with panache and the audience lapped it up. The occasional plastic bottle and shoe were hurled from the back of the crowd and Rice sang into a shoe as if it was a microphone.
Sigrid (Main stage, Friday evening) came on stage to some trippy psychedelic electronic noodling. Her set was refreshing and offset some of the intensity of the day’s post punk guitar bands without sacrificing any seriousness, integrity or passion. She looked diminutive up on stage but was confident and assured, as is her band. It was nice to have a bit of poppy, mainstream music, with soaring guitar solos, melodies and harmonies.
At about half past eight Sigrid was singing A Driver Saved My Night and the first drops of the only rain of the weekend began to fall: ‘Tears running down my face…..”! She continued with Don’t Kill My Vibe, ending with Mirror. It was a perfect set and Sigrid and her band made me feel young and happy again (despite the rain).
Friday headliners Bombay Bicycle Club began with a bang – confetti drifted across the still damp crowd. They looked so happy to be on stage and were happy to communicate that happiness to the ecstatic audience. Given the band’s hiatus between 2016 and 2019 followed by COVID pandemic from 2020 (they were originally scheduled to appear in 2020 and then 2021), their happiness at performing for us carried extra resonance: you believed them. This was reflected in their music: they are now a mature band and their performance was measured and thoughtful.
Their set covered songs from their first album through to their most recent. Oddly, a high point for me was not a BBC original at all: a cover of the sad but wittily paradoxical Selena Gomez duet Love Me To Lose You. Jamie MacColl’s guitar contributions were outstanding, sometimes subtle, sometimes brash, sometimes interlacing with Jack Steadman’s. Ed Nash and Suren de Saram were solid, as were supporting musicians. The main set ended with Carry Me – an invitation to the still energetic audience to literally carry their friends on their shoulders. The set closed as it began, with a pyrotechnic waterfall, leaving thousands of happy revellers.
Kelis’s Saturday evening Main stage set was a highlight. Backed by DJ Nikki Beatnik, a backing singer and live drummer, her set covered a wide range styles – there weren’t a great deal of other hip hop, soul or R’n’B artists performing at Truck. An almost continuous DJ mash-up set, performed with exquisite timing, included Donna Summer’s I Feel Love as well as Kelis classics such as “Milkshake and Caught Out There. The audience seemed hypnotised, swaying in time with the music, waving. Kelis’s son Knight was brought on stage and we sang Happy Birthday to him. This could have been extremely cheesy. Instead, it was very emotional, although Knight looked a bit bemused. As an observation, I found that on the Main stage I’d often watch the screens rather than the stage but I found myself fixed on Kelis herself not her image on the screen; this illustrates her charisma. As she left the stage she told us to ’Live well. Treat each other well’; and I was moved.
Sam Fender (Saturday’s headliner) is currently riding the crest of a massive wave with his Springsteen-inspired rock. Joined by Eastenders’ Shaun Williamson for Getting Started the early part of the set got off to a great start. The light show, use of projections and the side screens was stupendous. However, after Spice there were problems in the crowd and the set was halted for five minutes while medics attended various issues. Worried about crowd safety Fender announced he’d be aiming for a ‘more chilled set’. His sets build on momentum but to a certain extent this had now been lost. Spit of You and Seventeen Going Under remain emotionally intense and moving, but there was a sense that focus had been lost.
It was a great set but it could have been so much better. Fender thanked the medics and security, sentiments applauded by the crowd. One might add the Guardian Angels. Too. In both his music and his conversation Fender comes across as a gentleman, an honourable and compassionate man and this perception underlines his success.
I wasn’t expecting to like Sam Ryder’s performance (Market stage, Sunday evening). I don’t do much social media and don’t follow the Eurovision Song Contest, although I was aware of Ryder’s success at both. This was the most varied and mixed audience of Truck – ranging from young children through to their grandparents. I was expecting middle of the road music but what we got was classic rock ballads and a sprinkling of guitar hero rock god guitar soloing.
He looked like how many people think Jesus looked like and I didn’t quite understand why he was wearing what looked like a crocheted coat of many colours. But leaving that aside Ryder has a marvellous voice. A version of Abba’s Eurovision winner, Waterloo seemed amusingly cheeky. Ryder created a vast, inclusive, communal experience and had everyone waving their mobile phone torches in the air, like lighters (although I’m not quite sure why). Ending with Spaceman and a blistering guitar solo Ryder left the stage leaving behind a happy, satisfied audience. All in all a pretty successful appearance.
I’d also been uncertain whether I was going to enjoy Kasabian’s performance as I’d felt uncertain about Sergio Pizzorno’s stage presence, which had previously struck me as overly macho and a bit over-aggressive. Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline played whilst we waited for the band to come on stage and so we were all primed for their entrance. I needn’t have worried: Kasabian were triumphant and Pizzorno, whether singing, duetting, playing the guitar, performing a kind of ballet with giant foam hands, or merely taking command of the stage, is a star.
The band is solid, though there’s a danger that Kasabian is becoming Pizzorno plus supporting musicians such is his dominance and presence. He had us all eating out of the palm of his hand. Jump – we jumped; kneel – we kneeled; mosh pit, circle pit, hand waving, shoulder riding; it was all there. Loud guitars; synth burbles; heavy drums; strobe effect lighting. It was as if Kasabian’s performance contained elements of, and summed up, all the preceding 25th Truck Festival acts in one finale – which is what I suppose it did.
The set list drew fairly equally from Kasabian’s various albums. An encore culminated in Fire (via the second appearance of Praise You) at which point Kasabian literally went out with a bang – an impressive fire display marked the end of Kasabian’s performance and the conclusion of the festival.
Truck Festival can be followed on Facebook and their website
Yard Act and Bombay Bicycle Club photos by Caitlin Mogridge
Kasabian photo by Gaelle Beri
All other photos by Trev Eales. More work by Trev on Louder Than War can be found at his author’s profile. His photography portfolio is here
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