ATP Day Three: Mantra-like soundscapes

The third, and final night of the ATP festival was a rather windy one. Our driver took a wrong turn when arriving at Ásbrú which took us on the scenic route of the area. In a previous article I wrote that Ásbrú, the abandoned former NATO base in Keflavík,  is like something out of the Twilight Zone series and our little tour strengthened this comparison. Rows and rows of seemingly empty Lego-like apartment blocks, empty children's playgrounds with swings blowing in the wind, no cats, not even a bird. Very strange.

Back to the festival site, the crowds seemed to be slightly smaller than on previous nights, possibly due to the festival's main headliners appearing on Thursday. The first band I saw, admittedly with trembling excitement, were Loop who performed on the main Atlantic Studios stage in the early evening. Loop, for those who are unfamiliar with the band were one of a small wave of UK bands in the late eighties that also included Spacemen 3 that offered fuzz-laden guitar riffs, hypnotising drum patterns and monotonous singing. With influences from sixties rock and roll to the German kraut movement of the seventies, Loop create a dense wall of noise.

The concert began with lots of smoke and droning feedback to the voice of Hal from Kubrick's Space Odyssey. "I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill and think things over." Only the skinny silhouettes of the four band members were visible against a pretty cool smoke and light display and a layer of distorted guitar noise washed over the crowd. I was totally overwhelmed by the utter coolness of the whole performance, and as the band launched into songs such as Straight to your Heart and the grand finale of Burning World, the audience was captivated by the mantra-like soundscapes.  Frontman Robert Hampson however seemed to have an issue with the sound, shouting several times at the sound guy and at the end of the concert he threw his guitar on the stage and made a quick, rather pissed-off exit. He may not have been happy about the concert, but the audience certainly were.

Next, a quick stop at Andrew's Theatre, to see the ever refreshing Pink Street Boys, delivering their in-your face punk rock to a seated audience. I thought that was a bit odd, as these boys usually have the audience thrashing themselves around wildly and there's not much thrashing to be done in a seat. I had to miss the last part of their set to catch the legendary Swans at the Atlantic Studio stage. This performance had drawn a large crowd of both die-hard Swans fans as well as the musically curious. This experimental group of New York art-rockers famous for noise-laden works like Raping a Slave procured an almost apocalyptic set of feedback, noise, guitars and distorted percussion with the howling voice of Michael Gira sounded like the rantings of a mad priest. Hypnotizing, mesmerising, trance-like. The whole Swans experience was harrowing, anxiety inducing and somehow very important.