Notes From Freak Valley 2022 – Day 3
Posted in Features, Reviews on June 18th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Freak Valley Festival 2022 – Day 3
06.17.22 – Fri. – 12:51 – Picnic table, side of lawn
Would you like to squeeze the wobbocado? And no, that’s not the worst innuendo of all time. It wobbles, and it’s an avocado stress ball with a smiley face on it. I’ve just about worn it out, but I have a spare if I need it. You deal your way and I’ll deal mine.
It’s going to be hotter today than yesterday, so I’m told. So be it. The production crew is setting things up. On the stage, Revvnant are soundchecking drums, placing synth and keys centerstage as if to offer a clear signal that something different is coming. The beer truck seems to be cleaning its lines — respect — and shade is at a premium.
In the pre-fest narrative of my expectation for coming to Freak Valley for the first time, this was the day I figured on being most exhausted, and at least so far, that’s how it’s panned out. So it goes. You sit when you can sit, drink water. The eggs I think helped, and I haven’t quite given myself an ulcer yet with coffee, so clearly there’s work to be done there. But I’ve got time. Doors open in about two minutes. Again, the calm.
Like My Sleeping Karma before them — and with two shared members — The Great Escape have bowed out of their anticipated reunion set, with Glasgow Coma Scale stepping in. Bummed, since I remember playing The Great Escape on the radio in college and digging those records, but seeing another band I’ve never seen before and wouldn’t otherwise get the chance to see is not a hardship.
Someone mentioned yesterday that a few years ago it rained and was kind of a wet mess, and you can see where it would be for sure. Something has bloomed here — the same thing as at home, whatever it is — and I can’t breathe for the allergies, but that’s a small price to pay for the outdoors and the experience. I haven’t seen the campsite yet and I may or may not get up the hill to it but there are tents down by the road as well and walking past those last night in the foresty dark felt intrusive enough. You have to balance these things.
First band, 2PM and on from there. Going to be a busy one, but standing on the edge, I’m looking forward to diving in again. And I did dunk my head in the kiddie pool yesterday and will likely do so again.
Here’s the blow-by-blow of the day. Thanks if you check it out.
Revvnant
And now for something completely different. True to Elias Mays Schutzman’s roots as a drummer, there is neither guitar nor bass, but two keyboard and synth setups and drums and, during the first song, ukulele. The uptempo “The Revvnant” (posted here) had the still-assembling crowd dancing a bit and “Death Cult” worked in a bit of space rock, at least beefier the heavy roll and piano finish, and though I’ve written about the project before and about Schutzman’s other bands — Black Lung and The Flying Eyes, the latter of whom played their last show here a few years ago — I was intrigued to see how the band would take shape and how the songs would come across like. The answer is that among the 15 other bands who have played Freak Valley so far, Revvnant are on their own wavelength, and if you’re going to start someplace, that’s where you want to be. Bonus points to them for saving the real dance song until the end. The trick will be getting the right scope of production, but this stuff on record could be mind-altering. Nothing but potential.
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Djiin
Djiin are more than just a great harp. But they also have that, so, bonus. Their second LP, Meandering Soul (review here), came out last year on Klonosphere, and they were true to its heavy bluesy foundation, and they certainly capped their set in driving fashion, but on stage they brought psychedelic expanse and classic heavy to bear as well, a cacophony emerging gradually that grew fiercer as they moved toward the finish. I knew I wanted to see them, but I didn’t know how much until they really got going, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many labels are trying to poach them as we speak, because they’re young, they dress the part, they play well, they sell it on stage well — they’re not just standing there — and they have cool, varied songs. Shit, if I had a label I’d be chasing them up too. They have a firm idea of who they are and seem right on the cusp of further realization. I had a good feeling when they started all minimal and quiet, and it was a pleasure to follow the path of that winding, dynamic build.
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Swedish Death Candy
Now that’s a name. They’re from the UK — which, for however long they end up being a band, may just always need to be said, so they might want to get used to it — and they didn’t kill anyone except maybe their own riffs, and the candy thing, nope. But you know, Swedish Death Candy’s weighty moniker is also kind of a description of their sound. Psychedelic, grunge toned, intermittently dreamy like post-rock or all out heavy, they seemed to change up their sound while creating a palpable atmosphere. Near the end, the guitarist seemed to have some trouble with his guitar and so wound up plugging into a keyboard across the stage and just mashing away madly — it was noisy and exciting — and they came back around from that to a multi-tiered heavy psychedelic build that took my head to Colour Haze, and that’s never a thing I’m going to complain about. When they wanted to they could really ride a groove, and they did but they’re clearly not interested in doing any one single thing. Their last album, Are You Nervous? (yes, perpetually; I take pills for it) came out on 2019, and I missed it, as I will, but I’ll think of their set as a learning experience.
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Glasgow Coma Scale
Yes, that will do nicely, thank you. Stepping in for The Great Escape, whose Matte Vandeven took ill, Glasgow Coma Scale came from Frankfurt — hey, me too! except presumably they live there — and made an offering of mellowed-out, warm-toned instrumental heavy psych-prog, which if that sounds like a lot, well, it is, but they make it flow easily with a range of effects and languid grooves. One of the best bass tones I’ve heard this weekend, and I’ve heard a few by now, and they were kind of in league with Toundra aesthetically, if more subdued on stage. Again, I was reminded of My Sleeping Karma, with the floaty noodling guitar and solid drums behind holding it together, but especially in light of the circumstance, the fact that they were able to fill in on such short notice. One might think they’d feel rushed playing or something like that, but not from what I can see and hear in the sundry peaks and valleys of their material. They’re well suited to this fest, the spirit of the thing and the fact that I’ve been here three days now and not run into one asshole. Of how many places on earth could you possibly say that right now?
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Daily Thompson
Dortmunder trio Daily Thompson exude an obvious love for what they do. It’s amazing how much smiling is taking place on stage. The whole time but right now as well. And all the while, they draw a line between happy grunge, heavy psych and a jammy take, with all three of them contributing vocals. Another band I never really thought I’d see, they’ve got stoners doing handstands in the crowd, and no I’m not speaking figuratively. There’s at least one O see over there. And whatever the band are doing, they make it swing, and that’s a thing to love. I’ve dug their records, last year’s God of Spinoza (review here) was a good time and then some, but of course there’s more character and depth to the sound live, though they also have a good amount of variety in the set. The sprinkler kicked on while I was taking pictures and I got surprise-sprayed, but it’s so hot in the sun I didn’t even care. Camera was fine — by which I mean it’s still broken — and beyond that, I was only glad for the wetdown. I’ve been in and out of water all day. There’s a shower in the building backstage. I put that shit as cold as it could go earlier and didn’t even take my shoes off when I got in. Zero, zero regrets. Glad to have refreshed before seeing this band for the first time, especially with that last jam.
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Green Lung
Ayo, Green Lung are the real deal. I wouldn’t lie to you. I was expecting professionalism, and that’s what was delivered. They do justice to their records — last year’s Black Harvest (review here) was one of 2021’s best LPs, no question — and then some, and with the organ, the shred solos, the push of the drums, Tom Templar’s presence as a frontman bringing an edge of metal to the proceedings, they’ve got everything working for them. Their songs are memorable, their performance suited to a stage this big, and they got on, hit it, and there was no question. They owned the moment. Rest easy, Freak Valley, you’re in good hands. “Reaper’s Scythe,” “The Ritual Tree,” “Leaders of the Blind,” “Woodland Rites” and damn near everything else they played was a highlight, and their energy was electric. Nuclear. Time to go on tour forever, gentlemen. And in the name of all that is cultish and/or unholy, put out a fucking live album. People need to know. I’ll hope to be here next time they play and they’re headlining, and in the meantime, “Graveyard Sun” is my favorite song off Black Harvest — those keys are even more Type O Negative live — and I get to say I saw it happen on stage. No bullshit: Where this band is playing is where you want to be. They ran a little long and got cut off, but still. What a show.
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Leech
Heavy, instrumental psych, but more on the post-rock side of things from Switzerland’s Leech, who’ve been at it more than two decades and who featured the first ‘xylosynth’ I’ve ever seen or heard. They also have regular synth, so they’re covered either way, and for an act I knew next to nothing about before coming here today, they were engaging while staying true to the atmosphere of the music, which of course is heavily atmospheric. If you’re wondering, the bubbles have started up again but they’re filled with smoke now, which suits where we’re at in the evening. It’s starting to cool off after being hotter than [fill in your own hyperbole for a very warm day here], and Leech are immersive in a way that live music doesn’t always get to be. And they started a couple minutes late but it didn’t matter once they got into it. It’s the right kind of thing for when you can start to see the colored lights on the trees that they have at night here, and the crowd, smoke bubbles and all, is totally along for the ride. Hell, I’ll go too and see where it ends up. Just as soon as I grab another coffee. Or maybe I’ll just stay right here. The finale was even prettier, it turned out.
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Reignwolf
The factoid that Seattle’s Reignwolf played Lollapalooza six years before releasing their debut album on 2019, and that they toured with Black Sabbath on 2014 tells me there is significant management behind them. I don’t have a clue who that might be, but kudos to them on placement. To be fair, vocalist/guitarist Jordan Cook is very obviously insanely talented. Playing as a duo, Reignwolf brought a riotous, classic shred amid heavy blues vibes with way blown out vocals. He had a kick drum at the front of the stage, jumped off our during the first song, then the drummer left the stage and Cook ended up behind the kit playing guitar and drums at the same time, singing into his pickups. Then they moved part of the drum kit to the front of the stage and continued to deliver a rock show like some idealized version of your dad used to make. “Reignwolf loves you, Germany,” said Cook before leaving the stage 20 minutes early and thereby telegraphing the encore to come. They’ll play another festival tomorrow, and another the day after that. Respect the hustle, even if it’s not really hitting home for me. I give points like mad though for a white dude playing boogie blues rock without trying to sound like he’s Chester Frickin’ Burnett. Shouldn’t be that hard, but it’s rarer than you’d think. Reignwolf made it sound easy. Pro band, pro show, even if what they were being pro at was raw in form.
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Red Fang
I still have Red Fang songs stuck in my head from seeing them in New York a few weeks ago (review here), but I’ve never seen them that they sounded as huge as coming from that stage, and goodness gracious it works for them. The band seemed genuinely happy to be here, and their set was a shove in the direction of awesome. I’m not sure I understand why they don’t just record all their albums on stage, since they’re no less tight than they are on record, and they absolutely crush. They’ve always been a live band, and one expects they always will be, but with, again, having recently seen them in a headlining role, they made this one feel special and I think the crowd could feel it. I could. Smiles on stage, and Aaron Beam asked if everyone was allergy after the long day in the sun. In fact, I did see one young woman being walked out through the backstage area to a waiting ambulance. And folks were swaying this way and that. Over by the merch where I stood I could see some beginning to make their way back to the campsite — fair enough; that’s a decent-sized hill — but I’m dead serious when I tell you I’ve been hearing Red Fang songs on the ol’ mental jukebox for the better part of the last month, and I guess that’s not going to stop anytime soon. I call that a win. They don’t just make heavy fun, they make it heavy. A lesson in the benefits of touring forever and a welcome finish to day — wait, what day is it? — three of Freak Valley Festival. Have I mentioned how stupid lucky I am to be here? I’ll say it again, just to be sure. I am stupid lucky to be here.
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06.18.22 – Sat. – 10:29AM – Hotel
I’m not sure how to properly express the relief I felt last night when I came into the hotel room and took off my socks. True liberation. Of toes.
Breakfast did me so much good yesterday I just now repeated the same course of eggs and cheese. Shower in a bit. I stink. Long, hot day yesterday. And the day before. That shower in the AWO International building was a godsend yesterday afternoon. Zero qualms about walking around with my head soaking wet dripping all over myself. And I’ll always remember the time I got surprise-sprayed by the sprinkler. Gave the people up front a laugh, anyhow.
Today will be hot too, I think. The sky has that summer haze that I recognize from home, settled over everything but still letting the sun through to burn your ass. Or at least your face. Buying a silly hat was the right choice. Utility. Survival. Shower. Now.
Thank you for reading. More pics after the jump.
