Notes From FREAK VALLEY 2022

Notes From Freak Valley 2022 – Day 1

Freak Valley Festival 2022 – Day 1

Wed. – 2:59PM – Front of house aka on the lawn

There is a wonderfulness to being in a place where you don’t speak the language. People around you conversing, sorting things out, all this and that, where stuff needs to go and so on. I’m sitting in a smoker’s tent off to the side of the grass in front of the stage, Purple Dawn or somebody doing a soundcheck. It’s probably techs for Baroness, now that I think of it. But around me, between the riffs, I can hear the conversations, laughter floating in the air, peole who haven’t seen each other in a year or two and a half years. It’s beautiful.

And the setting is beautiful. It really is a valley. The little industrial-ish-feeling area where the fest takes place is surrounded on all sides by wooded hills, some of the trees eaten by a bug that apparently likes that kind of tree — I heard about it on the way in — and the warm air, blue sky dotted with some passing clouds, and green vegetation add to the idyllic feel. I got to go back to my hotel a bit ago, find out I didn’t then did have a room — magic! — change my clothes, do a quick cold water hobo bath, eat a thankfully not melted protein bar and abandon my adiletten in favor of actual socks and shoes, such as those shoes are at this point.

Doors are open. People are taking their picture with the Welcome to Freak Valley sign — I hope to do the same; a ritual with preserving — and I think the first band is on at 5PM. That works for me. At some point I’m going to crash from the travel, adrenaline, etc., but maybe I can find some coffee around here and stave that off for a while.

Lo-Fi Merchandise is here selling stuff and I want to buy all of it just to save on shipping to the US. Ditto the hippie pants place next door. The actual band area isn’t up yet. I’ve been back and forth, in and out of shade, finding a spot to be, etc. Saw the Duel guys when I got here, and Geezer have shown up at this point as well. The lineup for today has changed with Witchcraft dropping off. K bye. Purple Dawn will open and everybody else is pushed later accordingly from where they were. I’m bummed I won’t see My Sleeping Karma like I thought I might when I got here, but I’ll be alright.

First band in about 40 minutes. I’m here. It’s real. I made it. And I have a place to crash when the night is over. Mark that a win.

Here’s notes on the day:

Purple Dawn

A significant rumble from Cologne’s Purple Dawn, who did precisely what you’re supposed to do when you’re opening a festival and you bust a bass head on the first song. They covered it with a jam. That is how to do it, and they were back up and running soon enough. Their stuff was pretty fresh in my head from writing about the Peace & Doom Session Vol. II (review here) and the highlight “Old Fashioned Black Madness” seemed to be the moment where the crowd woke up. The quiet start of “The Moon Song” after led to some post-High on Fire gallip mixed in with the nod that would seem to be the trio’s stock and trade. I got my photos and went out front to watch them on the grass. I’m also falling asleep sitting up. I need to find some coffee like now.

—

Duel

Duel play like headliners. They’re in their songs, moving, professional, playing dynamic, heavy material that has yet to really get its due. They’re a band win people over, though as they hit into “Children of the Fire” after “Strike and Disappear,” it seemed like the crowd was well enough familiar with their wares. Either way, they destroy. This is my first time seeing them with this drummer and even the Rockpalast film crew had their work cut out for them in keeping up. But the thing is, they’re not sloppy at all. Even the three-part-vocal hook of “Children of the Fire,” they absolutely nailed it every time and didn’t look back. I’m very, very curious to hear the kind of band they are like seven or eight years from now, what their next few records might bring. A 50-minute set gave them some time to dig into their songs and get a flow going, and fucking a, of course that’s what they did. This cements them as reliable in my mind. I also downed three cups of coffee between the bands and that helped too. Fears of the fucking dead. Children of the fucking fire.

—

Geezer

I’ve got sentimental attachment here, but so good to see this band own such a large stage in front of this crowd. The NY-based three-piece did well by their new album, Stoned Blues Machine (review here), with the title-track, “Cold Black Heart,” and if I’m not mistaken the rest of side A represented. They’ve been over here for a couple weeks at this point, this is near the end of their tour, and sure enough they sounded like a band who’ve been playing every night for the last 14 — whether or not they have is beside the point and you’ll pardon me if I spare myself looking up the amount of days off they have or haven’t had — but they’re an absolute joy and I know from looking around that I was by no means the only one with a big smile on my face as they hit it. The lawn was grooving on “Atomic Moronic.” Pat introduced a mini-set of songs from 2020’s Groovy (review here) — he also introduced Steve and Richie — then hit inti the title-track with a finger plucked solo. “Dig” followed and shifted into a finale of “Awake,” ending on a hopeful note every bit worthy of the occasion, and Geezer got the biggest response of the day so far.

—

Villagers of Ioannina City

A whole bunch of people just showed up and I can’t say I blame them. I’ve never seen Greece’s Villagers of Ioannina City, but many of Freak Valley denizens plainly have — they were here six years ago — but between the meditative heavy psych vibe and the folk touch brought by their use of tsabouna and what might just be a clarinet alongside keys and the weighted roll of their riffs. They’re pushing atmosphere to the forefront in a way that no one has yet — you could probably call it post-something-or-other if you worked hard at it — but then they break out a bluesy organ solo and you realize Age of Aquarius is a story they’re telling in chapters, and its complexity goes beyond trading between loud and quiet parts. Their songs and style are thoughtful, melodic, rich in tone and purposeful in their delivery. I don’t know how it would go over in the States — they’d have to be supporting someone on tour their first time out and a lot would depend on who — but there’s a full on audience engagement happening here, and they have the audience to show for it. And I suspect once they make up the two years of road time they lost supporting that album, that audience will only continue to grow.

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Black Mountain

Vibe in a can. Or at least a deep-running blend of classic, psychedelic, progressive and space rocks. It’s all the same when Black Mountain take the stage. I’ll admit to being more than a little distracted during their set as one of my camera lenses broke, leaving me with the wide angle option that will probably do really well for me all day tomorrow taking pictures of the stage monitors, but one way or the other, Black Mountain’s synthy brew will lift the spirit and soothe the soul if apparently not the contact sensor on that lens. Even before I inevitably have to shell out some stupid amount of cash to have that fixed, I’m going to be bummed out if I can’t get that thing to work. Black Mountain’s mellower vibe, despite being heavy and loud and the many, many other things they are as a band, seemed to be expanding on the more immersive end of Villagers of Ioannina City’s set, but this band is their own thing. The assembled heads are ready for it. The Freaks. As for me, I’m distracted by even in such a tizzy I’ve still got room in my heart for Mellotron. Nothing else sounds like that. And I guess that’s true of Black Mountain too, but individual as they are, but their sound still has an immediate familiarity to it, whether you know the songs or they know you. Also it’s nighttime now. Apparently that happened recently.

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Baroness

Seems to me that if I really was dead set on becoming a real Baroness fan, the thing to do would be to see them play live every couple of weeks between now and whenever I eventually get on board. They deliver live. The set was similar to when I saw them a few weeks ago at Desertfest New York (review here), but there wasn’t even a question as to whether or not they were going to nail it, because yes, they were. And so it went. It had been a long day, and it was only with the help of respected-photog Falk-Hagen Bernshausen that I managed to make that seemingly-busted lens work for long enough to shoot a couple songs of the Baroness set, but the band’s energy was infectious, their rhythm a physical urging, like they’re trying to tell you it’s time to go for a run, except I guess without the running on the audience’s part. I honestly don’t know Baroness’ songs well enough to say whether the performance was flawless, and if it was, I suppose that’s nice in the way of such things, but from my silly little spot in the grass I was just happy to appreciate the headliner headlining (again) and a performance by a band who have so clearly mastered their craft.

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06.16.22 – Thursday – 10:56AM – Hotel

A little after I get back last night someone knocks on my door. I open it and a dude is there, absolutely smashed, wearing some death metal shirt. I don’t remember who it was now, but it was someone decent. He starts talking and even though I don’t speak German I could tell his words were slurred. I slowed him down, apologized for not speaking his beautiful language in his beautiful country, and eventually he seemed to recall that he spoke perfect English.

He needed stairs, which seemed like a terrible idea to me given his state. Dude could hardly stand. I showed him where the stairs were but then he said he wanted his room and kept walking. It was the one with the stuff on the floor outside in the hallway. Room 29. Fair enough. Turned out he’d lost his room key. He told me to find it. In his pockets. No dice, bro, sorry. He empties his own pockets and discovers various stuff but no key. He is grumbling, agitated. For one brief second, he looks like he’s about to give up. He’s speaking syllables, in and out of German and English — the human brain is amazing, even addled — and kind of says “bwuh?” and shrugs his shoulders.

I ask if he has back pockets, and a few seconds later, tucked into a respectable wad of Euros emerges his room key. His eyes light up. I open his door for him and usher him inside. His relief is palpable. I tell him to sleep and he nods. Freak Valley is small enough that I could probably run into Mr. Roomtwentynine 100 times today. I don’t think I’d recognize him if I did. Festival life.

More pics after the jump.