The Bearded Theory festival in Derbyshire, despite its silly name, has come a long way in its nearly two-decade evolution, indeed the last five years has seen itself transform into a major festival player.
Arriving Wednesday afternoon to avoid the mayhem, admittance to the main arena is prohibited until Thursday but there is still stuff to be enjoyed on the periphery such as the bar.
The first thing to impress musically was a young guy Matt Allan on the Something else stage, as the strains of Solid air by the late John Martyn faded out of the sound system Matt gave us forty minutes of quality acoustic songs, all his own material and some self deprecating banter made for a fine welcome.
In the evening there appeared to be something causing a fuss on the Woodlands stage, four chaps kicking up a rumpus in a nineties style, on closer inspection it was EMF!
Unbelievable.
It just goes to show you that given enough cider you can enjoy anything, 16 years ago at Bearded Theory I was to be found at the front for the Cheeky Girls set, there’s a theme emerging here.
Always an early starter in the festival season, this year in particular it coincides with some spectacular weather. I don’t think I’ve ever bought suncream at a UK festival before.
Thursday afternoon saw some serious rock action courtesy of Birmingham quartet Meatdripper, a cross between Sabbath and the Buthole Surfers.
Meatdripper
The highlight of the night were unquestionably Lambrini Girls. Their confrontational and overtly political stance went down a storm. It’s six hours later and I can still feel that bass, I think it might have caused some internal damage.
Saturday morning is all things ukulele and lemon cake. With a bunch of elderly rebel rousers, the audience were asked to bring their instruments to play along and much jolly japery ensued.
I particularly enjoyed Teenage Kicks and Just Like Heaven and almost shed a tear when they did Wish You Were Here.
Special mention to the cosmic clairvoyant on the main drag who will read your future and probably tell you what time the Pixies are on as well as long as you cross her palm with twenty quid ( all major credit cards accepted).
Mid-afternoon I caught The Molotovs. An incendiary trio, complete with siblings on vocals, guitar and bass, with an invisible drummer (I’m sure there was one but so far back she was in the next field). The guitarist combined Paul Weller and Pete Townshend mode. Very exciting to watch.
The Molotovs
Meanwhile, his sister doesn’t stand still for a moment. They play a set of speedy punk and I’m sure I heard an incongruous snippet of Harold Melvyn and the blue notes ‘If you don’t know me by now’ in there but I was suffering from sunstroke. I might be wrong.
Punk Legends
Now The Damned, and anticipation was great.
This was a really solid honed to perfection performance and the old captain with his vicious red Gibson tore through every tune. Frontman Dave Vanian looked very dapper, he was in his best undertaker gear. They were so on point, Neat Neat Neat, Love Song, Smash it up and especially New Rose were given a real good seeing to.
The Damned’s Captain Sensible
As for Peter Hook, on paper a setlist comprising of Joy Division and New order classics looked beautiful. It wasn’t.
The dance tent is thoroughly recommended when you’ve had a drop of whiskey. Had some crumpets and went to bed.
Saturday belongs to Jon Spencer and his Blues Explosion. An intense slice of nonstop fuzzy sonic mayhem, it’s like going to rock n roll church and the preacher is a cross between Elvis and Lux Interior.
Not to be outdone The Pixies come a close second with their set, an absolute humdinger of a show. The version of Monkey’s Gone To Heaven was spine tingling.
Top this off with Garbage , Everything Everything, Fat Dog, Gans, The Au Pairs and even more crumpets than you can shake a stick and that all pervading glorious sunshine, surely this must be in contention for the best ever Bearded Theory, it proved to be so memorable, especially the people, the heart of the place, a finer crowd of daft buggers you will never meet.
It’s a fortnight after that Eurovision horror show where we came last , perhaps next year we could have Lambrini Girls singing Cuntology 101 for our next entry. Just a thought .
By the way, the cosmic clairvoyant got back to me later with a message from the other side. From a guy called Ian…. he told her ‘tell Peter to give it a rest now, perhaps get a little allotment and chill out’. Wow!
Words and pictures by John Haylock
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