Festival Review: ATP 2007, The Dirty Three Weekend, Day 3: Sunday 29th April 2007

Sunday began with a short walk into Minehead for breakfast and to get the Sunday paper, though finding a copy of The Observer or The Guardian within a five mile radius of an ATP event would require getting up before the sun. On our way back we saw the impeccably dressed Nick Cave ahead of us, seemingly heading towards Splash Waterworld, and we fantasised briefly of seeing the great man thundering down the huge water slides with a big dumb grin on his face. Sadly, he turned right before he got there and disappeared into a row of relatively decadent looking chalets. “We know where you live,” we thought.

A Silver Mt Zion Orchestra @ ATP 2007 (soundcheck)I left JustHipper in the chalet (she had a bit of a cold coming on) to get down to see Papa M who was first on at Centre Stage. On my way there I stopped to watch A Silver Mt Zion Orchestra soundchecking on the main stage and they sounded wonderful, all nine or so of them huddled together in the centre of the vast stage, looking inwards on each other, communicating through nods and smiles as they played through a couple of their numbers to a small but very appreciative audience. I regretted that I wouldn’t be seeing their set later on as I was planning to spend most of the day at Centre Stage.

David Pajo drew a sizable crowd for his Papa M billed set that took in much more material recorded under his PAJO monicker than his actual Papa M stuff. It was just him, his guitar, some bells that he played with his feet and his arsenal of shiny black folk songs and he sounded superb, his rich hushed vocals and unerringly precise guitar picking rendering the songs almost identical to their recorded versions, which, in this case, wasn’t a bad thing.

Mary Margaret O'Hara @ ATP 2007The place cleared out quite a bit for Mary Margaret O’Hara. Seems like the kids (well, anyone under 35) have no idea who this legendary, reclusive, eccentric Canadian songstress is but for me this was the most eagerly awaited set of the weekend – I never expected to ever get the chance to see her live as the world has barely heard a peep from her since she released her classic, and only, album Miss America in the late Eighties. O’Hara came across like your favourite dotty aunt, flitting about the stage, chatting lightheartedly to imaginary friends in the audience, consulting with her band but not seeming to be remotely on the same wavelength as them, or as anyone else in the room. The first song passed without incident, except for the incident where the bass player failed to turn up. The second song was Al Wilson’s “The Snake” and it was sounding heavenly with O’Hara’s vocals seeming to have lost none of their exceptional quality in the last twenty or so years. Up until the second verse, that is, when she completely forgot the words and turned to her guitarist and drummer and imaginary bass player searching for some sort of cue to get her going again. Alas, it was not to be and the song ended abruptly with O’Hara urging us to seek out the Al Wilson version for further enlightenment. The next song she didn’t even get past the first line before her memory deserted her. She made up for it with a slightly hestitant “Body In Trouble”, where she seemed to be fighting to recall some parts but ultimately winning, and a stunning, and full, version of “Dear Darling”, my personal fave from Miss America and a song that was worth any amount of cock-ups and forgotten words. “Year In Song, or “Urine Song” as she introduced it having, probably on purpose, misheard a request from the crowd, fared less well, falling again at the second verse. An impromptu band conference was called. The bass player turned up. For the last song. I honestly thought the band were joking at the start when they were calling out for a bass player. The song was something to do with rainbows and incorporated large part of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” and it was brilliant thanks to O’Hara’s incredible vocals. Then she was gone and we were left slightly bemused but quietly satisfied to have witnessed probably the most bizarre set of the weekend.

Joanna Newsom @ ATP 2007The place was jam packed again for Joanna Newsom and she and the Ys Street Band didn’t let anyone down with a set most of which was taken up with Ys material, including a heartstopping “Emily”. There were none of the problems of last year when the incessant chatter from the perimeters caused all sort of feedback problems, instead there was almost reverential silence from an enchanted audience. It was her first set of the afternoon; the second set was to be even better but inbetween her paramour Bill Callahan, or The Artist Formerly Known As Smog, played a set of almost equal brilliance, starting with “Sycamore”, the standout track from his Woke On A Whaleheart long player and running through most of that album as well as the hoary old classic “Cold Blooded Old Times” and the beautiful “Rock Bottom Riser” and “Say Valley Maker” from A River Ain’t Too Much To Love, the latter of which rose magnificantly at its conclusion and made us all forget those tight white jeans Bill was wearing. It all ended on a bit of a downer when the set was cut short with a song left to play leading to disgruntled murmurs from the audience and a silent, abrupt exit from Mr Callahan.

I slipped back out to check out a bit of Nick Cave playing his second set of the weekend at the Skyline Pavilion only to notice a huge queue for the Centre Stage snaking all the way from one end of the Pavilion to the Burger King at the other end. Nick was playing “Love Letter”, damn him, but I knew I’d better get back to the Centre Stage if I was going to catch Ms Newsom’s second offering of the day. Now, there are two entrances to the Centre Stage, one in the Pavilion which is where the queue was, and one just outside the Pavilion on the other side of the Reds entrance. That was the door I’d just come out of and I walked back past the queue, through the Pavilion doors and straight back into the venue. No queue at those doors so why the hell was everyone queueing?

Anyway, Newsom’s set was even better even though she repeated performances of “Bridges And Balloons”, “Emily” and “Sawdust And Diamonds”. She played “Colleen” and a much improved version of “Inflammatory Writ” which was softer than the jarring album version. The Ys Street Band provided a thoughful and restrained accompanyment and the deft arrangements always served to enhance Newsom’s incredible harp playing and vocals, the flurry of fingers punctuated by a squeaked “ha!” during “Colleen” giving me goosebumps. As the set was drawing to a close the unholy racket of Mum Smokes in the Reds bar below leaked into the refined air of Centre Stage but the band soldiered on. “That’s loud” offered Joanna before a mesmerising “Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie”, which was anything but and which sent everyone away happy.

The Ducks Of Flamingo GroveI met back up with JustHipper at Reds where we caught the end of Mum Smokes, who weren’t that loud after all, they just had a really deep bass sound. She was enthusing about the Nick Cave/Grinderman performance, about how the great man had been taking requests from people throughout the day and how they’d played “Into Your Arms” which I was pretty gutted about. We watched a bit of The Small Knives‘ quiet acoustic pop before grabbing a pizza and heading back to the chalet, past the two ducks who seemed to be permanent residents of the long strip of grass along Flamingo Grove, certain in the knowledge that we’d be back next year.

Our Flickr photo set of ATP 2007

Here’s JustHipper’s video of Mary Margaret O’Hara doing “Body In Trouble”

PAJO – High Lonesome Moan

Mary Margaret O’Hara – Year In Song

Bill Callahan – Sycamore

Joanna Newsom & The Ys Street Band – Colleen

20 Responses to “Festival Review: ATP 2007, The Dirty Three Weekend, Day 3: Sunday 29th April 2007”

  • Anna Says:

    Thanks for putting up stuff about Mary Margaret O’Hara and picture as not much about her anywhere else really. I did not take photos myself as for the first few minutes, I thought she was a drunk woman. After Alan Vega, I was not prepared to stand any more half-assedness so I went downstairs to see Low. Five minutes of them in that clattery cavern they called a venue and I thought ” Dammit -how can I betray that pretty drunk woman”. I agree it was the most bizarre set of weekend but, to me, the only one worth paying any money for. Perhaps I am hard to please but I was not impressed with the other bands at all. Pretty much mechanical really. She was that one act that you always get at ATP, you know, the act you have never seen before but which is so unique you must immediately become obsessed. A true genius is someone who doesn’t need to prove anything and which M2OH has been proving for years and proved at Minehead! Totally inspiring to see such raw, courageous, searching performance and punk attitude in someone who shouldn’t need to be bothered. But, of course, she sometimes has to because we can’t expect anything even close in those many media darlings who were are supposed to worship. Suffice to say that beginning a set with a song from a television advert says more about the integrity of some artists than their music ever could. It is great to be able to play but without content or integrity who gives a damn? Reality is harsh. But that’s what M2OH gave and I totally appreciate it. She has the generosity and heart to expose singing as process of creation and expression and to drag us into the middle of it. It shows a singular lack of ego to not wish to present a song as a product in a box. It is so nice not to be spoonfed some pasteurised product which is clearly not what singing and listening can be about. I always love those artists who insist on transcending the borders between the artist and the audience which M2OH managed magnificently. To not be afraid to do so is clearly her greatest achievement. The inbetween banter between…inbetween lyrics. The half-finished lyrics, the rewriting of lyrics on the spot, new songs, new phrases, languages, herself as a radio (remember the two fingers atop head antenna?), garbled Spanish, not quite tuning in. All totally intentional. The revelation of the singer as conduit not originator of sounds. Truly remarkable and she did it long before Diamanda whose vocal technique is similar but less subtle. It would take several days to write a proper critique but it was lovely to see all my dead heroes in one space, Patsy Cline, Judy Garland, Shiela Jordan, Billy Holiday, Edith Piaf etc etc. Thank God I never took any pictures since I left my camera on the bus and would have been a major tragedy!

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