Festival Diary: Southsea Festival 2011

For 364 days of the year, Albert Road in Portsmouth would appear to be nothing more than a long and very standard stretch of English tarmac. For just one day in mid-September, however, the street does not so much come alive as as brim with an effervescent love for music for the annual Southsea Festival.

Bringing a sensational and very unique insight into the vast brilliance of the modern underground music scene, the day-long festival utilises fourteen different stages and venues along its long, windswept road, which boasts affordable cafés and vintage shops that would rival those of Camden Market.

Kicking off proceedings are the young and ridiculously fresh-faced Apollo’s Arrows in Southsea Social Club, which boasts a far more impressive stage than most pubs. The band merge a modern and experimental math-based sound with what can certainly be described as above average rock vocals, and whilst it’s a cliché these three are, without a doubt, ones to watch. Their frontman in particular displays incredible prowess in the perfect execution of his incredibly intricate tapping whilst belting very counter-rhythmic vocal melodies.

After this I head up to the BSM/Alcopop! stage at The Edge of The Wedge to see Hymns, but am disappointed to see their name crossed off the bill and replaced by Katie Malco, a wonderfully Lucy Rose-esque folk singer who’s buttery English voice is a perfect fit for the festival.

After investigating the street a little further, we find ourselves wandering into the breathtaking King’s Theatre for The Miserable Rich. The band fill the vast and exquisitely beautiful space with their genuinely intriguing brand of ‘chamber pop’, and whilst Will Calderbank’s almost inaudible murmurings between songs are slightly disarming, his vocals – not unlike those of Michael Stipe’s - soar gloriously over the encapsulating blend of modern folk and strings with brilliant confidence.

A treat for the burgeoning unsigned stage is a set from Huw Olesker and the Barebackers, who take all the best bits of Imperial Leisure and The King Blues and combine them with a ukelele to create a fun and summery set of sing-along tunes. Huw raises an audience unlike any sixteen year-old I’d seen manage before, enticing many punters off the street to come and dance with the rest.

A grand highlight of the day is found in the other half of The Wedgewood Rooms where the Club NME stage is hosting the heavily anticipated Bear Cavalry. The rock four-piece are easily the most energetic act we’ve seen yet, and fill the comparatively enormous stage and floor with far more presence than I would have expected for a band their age.

Back to the Kings Theatre and Kill It Kid - a four-piece blues-rock group with more sleaze in their sound than Jack White. Whilst sonically the set is magnificently genuine, the band don’t do a lot to fill the room in quite the same way previous acts have.

As evening begins to fall on the festival, we sit in the warm and blissfuly calm Magick Bean café and sip cups of delightfully strong black coffee, listening to the soothing sounds of Beau Brummel, a remarkable Justin Vernon-esque acoustic singer who manages to put us into a near-fatal state of drowsiness.

No amount of warning, mental preparation or even past live experience could have prepared anyone for the ferocious set executed by Talons. Utilising a blend of painfully admirable professionalism and raw, gritty animalism, the post-something-or-other sextet deliver a set that genuinely steals the show. In a tiny room that can barely contain the euphoric crowd, the band opt not to squeeze all six members onto the miniature stage and the two guitarists play on the floor with us, leaving the two violins, drums and bass a foot or so higher than them.

Talons tear without fault through a monstrously impressive and vicious set, and by the time it’s over – with a roaring ’Commiserations, Buff Orpington’ – the room is entirely without air; sweaty and dizzying. If I’d thought it was the heat making the packed audience sweat, it’s nothing in comparison to the band, who drive themselves into the ground to deliver the most intense and jaw-droppingly splendid set I’ve ever seen from an instrumental band.

It’s back to the Club NME stage next for an outstanding closer from Bleeding Heart Narrative, another English six-piece clearly incredibly aware of the texture of their sound. Utilising structures reminiscent of Mogwai blended with the grand vastness of The Joy Formidable, watching Bleeding Heart Narrative could be compared to standing over a precipice and trying to get blown off by a howling wind.

We head over to The Edge of the Wedge stage and honour the ‘one out, one in’ policy, finally getting in to see a good half of The Xcerts outstanding set. The heartfelt and vigorously delivered ‘Aberdeen 1987′ is a glorious high point of the whole day, with the sweaty audience bellowing along with the equally exhausted band.

Although we’re completely torn between heading down to the One Eyed Dog for Attack! Vipers! and staying at the same stage for Johnny Foreigner, we opt for the latter mainly due to the sheer amount of time it had taken to get into the room.

The tales of Johnny Foreigner’s hellish journey to the festival has spread throughout the attendees by now, and as a result of what sounds like the most stressful day of the band’s year so far, their usually impressive performance is sadly lacking. After starting a good thirty minutes late due to technical problems, their sound is ear-splittingly piercing and painful to listen to, and whilst the band do their very best to deliver, they’re obviously utterly worn out. However, a huge majority of the crowd stick around to give the three-piece the support they deserved, dancing, singing along and earnestly cheering Alexei Berrow’s appreciative acknowledgement that they’ve pulled a thicker audience than the enormous Club NME stage next door.

Sadly there’s a rush to the train station necessary – although time is taken nonetheless to have a quick chat with The Xcerts about their upcoming tour with Manchester Orchestra outside their bus – and the last few festival hours escape us.

We are incomparably satisfied with the experience so it’s hardly an issue. Southsea Festival is one of many festivals this summer to resolutely prove that small events like this are on the rise in quality and not in price. I take my hat off to all involved for putting together one of the most unique and genuinely unforgettable experiences of 2011.

All photographs courtesy of, and exclusive property of Richard Heaven.