What is art if it’s not to challenge, inspire and offer something original to what is an increasingly repetitive and systematic landscape? This also probes the question – what is original, honest art in 2024? In light of Oasis’s recent reformation, a word on many people’s lips is derivative. It was a word I used heinously to denounce the Manchester band in a year or two I spent dedicated to southern rivals Blur before finally allowing myself to enjoy both acts for their differing merits.
This word, thankfully, doesn’t need to be used in this review again as when it comes to Psych Fest it’s simply not applicable. I saw five acts across four different Manchester venues and each one defied cliche and was as distinctive as you’re likely to find in today’s music scene. It was a display of artists displaying original, honest art.
As I sat sinking pints of cider in my local before making my way to the festival I was met with the usual question from the regulars, “Are you going out tonight?”. My reply that no, I was instead attending Psych Fest was met with resounding bemusement and questions of “What’s that?”.
Embarrassingly after two years of living in Manchester, I hadn’t heard of it until last week when my manager enquired whether I’d like to cover the festival. Its lack of promotion around town made me curious about its popularity and how attendance, especially at the smaller venues, would be.
This feeling quickly dissipated when I arrived in town to pick up my press pass from Oxford Road’s Circle Square box office. The surrounding area was decked out with speakers, DJs, pop-up bars, gourmet food vans and the like and it was clear that plenty had turned out for the unique event and plenty more were expected.
This was further evidenced during my first stop to watch the Charles Rowell-fronted Crush of Souls. After a quick tipple at The Garratt, I made the short trip to the YES basement and was met with security turning punters away. Thanks to a handy queue jump pass I reached the Basement just as the French duo entered a mist-filled stage.
They soon launched into a set of gothically charged synth tracks which, keeping in Psychfest’s nature, included plenty of trippy flair. Despite the performance being somewhat marred by technical issues, first a faulty mic and later on a guitar, Rowell was apologetic and quelled any mounting restlessness with plenty of humorous crowd interaction.
Any feelings of having lost time while waiting for technical clean-ups to conclude were appeased by Crush of Souls’ thrashing and eclectic tunes such as ‘The Gift’ and ‘World of Fear’ which brought an impressive set, from a band I admittedly knew little about, to a triumphant close.
It was back to The Garratt for more 2 for £5 double vodkas before embarking on a virginity-taking trip to Deaf Institue for another duo, this time the brother-sister pairing of Amelia and Huw Lloyd known as Slap Rash. The Manchester-based punks have an unusually threadbare set-up consisting of drums, bass and minimal electronics which lent a raw, DIY feel to the proceedings.
The duo were barely halfway through their set before Huws shirt came off and his demands for the crowd to jump around were dutifully obliged. It wasn’t long before he plunged into the crowd (still armed with his bass) to join in the fun as Amelia was left to display some tireless percussion work alone on stage.
The pair’s familial chemistry was evident throughout the energetic forty-five-minute set and their relentless, full-throttle tunes were played with controlled chaos to an unrelenting crowd. The affair had an air of intimacy and although politically charged tracks such as ‘Greifcase’ and ‘Voice Lost’ were received with sincerity by the crowd, plenty of joy was in the room as Slap Rash left the stage.
Next, it was over to The Albert Hall’s main stage for the most psychedelic act of Psych Fest’s lineup, Altin Gün. With their reimagined sounds of Turkish folk music, the Amsterdam-based five-piece played a funkier, rockier set than their studio recordings might suggest. It is a testament to the Grammy nominee’s brilliance that despite the majority of the crowd being unable to understand the lyrics, their performance still managed to be a wholly immersive experience.
The band, previously described as having a “dirty blend of funk rhythms, wah-wah guitars and analogue organs”, journeyed through a tight range of tracks from their five albums, a highlight being ‘Goca Dünya’ which added a trippy element to the set and felt more druggy in its ethos than anything I experienced during a recent trip to Berlin.
Baxter Dury was the man of the moment as the first act in a double billing at the 02 Ritz. The wide-eyed singer took to the stage, clad in a trademark vintage suit and cravat, to a resounding reception. I managed to slip to the front of the crowd to get a full view of a performance filled with dynamic tunes and top-tier showmanship.
The laid-back, luscious beats and absurdist lyrics found on ‘Miami’ made it an early crowd-pleaser and the catchy ‘Celebrate Me’ from the 2023 album I Thought I Was Better Than You was another highlight. Dury remained energetic throughout his appearance, he covered every crevice of the stage as he bounced around executing well-practised kung-fu kicks.
It was hard not to be mesmerised by his all-encompassing presence and when at one point he stood Christ-like, beckoning the crowd with open arms and closed eyes, it was clear a unique talent was at work. It would be easy to say that Baxter has had a fast track to fame due to the notoriety of his father, however, in actuality, he was a latecomer who didn’t perform on stage until Ian’s funeral when he was 26.
Since then, the Buckinghamshire-born boy has earned plenty of critical acclaim thanks to a knack for wry storytelling and a repertoire of chamber pop arrangments. He has successfully established himself at the top of the indie scene and his performance at The Ritz was evidence that he is a must-see live act.
The Garratt was swapped with Wetherspoons for an hour intermission before a final trip to 02 Ritz to see The Horrors bring the venue’s proceedings to a close. In a previous life, the five-piece were NME darlings throughout the 2000s. Rather than fade into the obscurity that their overhyped, landfill indie image predicted, they released a string of acclaimed, genre-bending albums and have since carved out an impressive career.
The band arrived on stage to a warm reception and from the moment stick-thin frontman Faris Badwan opened his mouth the crowd were hooked. The Horrors provided an aggressive edge to the festival as they delved into their catalogue of gothic, industrial and electronic hits. ‘Something To Remember Me By’ was a predictable fan favourite and the Southend-on-Sea rockers delivered a stellar rendition to their faithful following.
Along with the venues covered in this review, there were another nine that hosted bands. Lass O’Growies pub held film screenings and Circle Square and YES were home to a wide selection of DJs playing into the early hours. The phrase is banded around liberally but Psych Fest truly felt like a place for everyone, its diverse and eclectic selection of artists covered countless genres and interests and, for me, it is one of the North’s most underrated festivals.
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