I didn’t get to the Camden Crawl – much as I love knifing rain, endless queues with drunken wankbags and Camden’s personality-free bars, talented new bands just don’t excite me at all. But happily a lot of other writers did, and, using a pen, a sheet of paper and a retro Casio calculator, I’ve managed to come up with this pretty-fucking-rad countdown of the best-received bands.
3. Summer Camp / Male Bonding
The two London acts will have to need a third-place play-off. Summer Camp’s smooth, chintzy grooves compelled the NME’s slightly errant reporter, while Male Bonding’s late night thrash enraptured the local rag, and Contact too.
2. Surfer Blood
Oh yeah, there were critical voices – not least the Camden Journal, labelling the band “less than revolutionary“. But, on the whole, this drumcore indie revision act from the States, one of the hottest tickets beforehand, pulsated most. Not least for their keyboard player with huge afro hair.
1. Yuck
Talking of huge hair, Yuck’s drummer Jonny is the world champion of white boy ‘fros. The band’s closing spot earned the gushingest praise, with NME particularly turned on by their guitarist’s solo, and Contact pulling out the weekend’s best comparison, likening Yuck to Urusei Yatsura. In fact, that’s the best comparison ever.
Also scoring good clubcard points were Treana Morris‘ soul-soothing acoustic singalong, heartfelt veteran punker Billy Childish, rollicking fiddle-folk from Australia’s Emily Barker, Left With Pictures‘ thrilling violin songs, Lonelady‘s ethereal indie, the rain-defying rabble rock of Man Like Me and Kyte, a Leicester quartet offering shoegaze electronica.
The Drums generally failed to impress, Plan B simply pissed everyone off and Stornoway suffered the first lashings of a mighty anti-folk wave slowly building. Thing is, lovely pretty folk just doesn’t work at a big, beery venue like Koko. Stooopid Stornoway. Elsewhere, Best Coast and Chew Lips didn’t quite justify their hype, and Gaggle got a lot of column inches but more because people were impressed at their number (15 ladies), not numbers. The Guardian didn’t really like anyone, but maybe sort of liked The Like. Oh and Sugababes sucked, but you probably knew that in advance. They’re just not the same without Keisha. Fact.
Overall some loved it, but most found much to dislike. I feel so smug I didn’t go that I almost want to punch myself in the face.
UPDATE!! (God, I’ve always wanted to write ‘update’ like that.) Platform has added to the mix with a wonderfully negative review of this sodomy of a festival, even throwing in the kind of mathematical prowess which my Casio long since ceased to proffer. Look out for a particularly appropriate ChatRoulette analogy
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