Festival Coverage : Live At Leeds

First and foremost, Live At Leeds has always been a catalyst for exposing local, relatively unexplored talent whom tend to be the earlier acts to kick off proceedings. Leeds College of Music student Georgia Thursting is first to enamour Nation of Shopkeepers, disparately followed by Menace Beach, whose scuzzy garage-rock, delectable hooks and frenetic live performances makes them one’s to watch out for in the coming months. Elsewhere The Brudenell Social Club plays host to Leeds’ own We Were Frontiers who have, apparently, set the local scene ablaze with their loud and frantic interpretation of folk.

Leeds based quartet Fun Adults are in the vanguard of the city's pool of talent yet have the misfortune to take to the Brudenell stage at 5pm when everyone’s beginning to fall into a late-afternoon lull, seemingly instigated by too much beer and far too much walking between venues. The disappointing turn out, however, is far from detrimental to the band’s ability to play with proficient skill as they eschew basic melody in favour of stuttering beats and obstructed cadences that coalesce with Dan’s rich and canorous vocals. A band worthy of your attention for their meticulously crafted compositions alone.

With any festival comes the inevitability of clashes and an inability to choose between the ‘buzz’ of the up and comings and the established familiarities. Live At Leeds’ affinity for home-grown talent is commendable, albeit there’s always some obligatory, run-of-the-mill additions that try mercilessly to revert back to the days where they perhaps retained a morsel of relevance. Today The Pigeon Detectives prove that their bland, formulaic indie discord is just as uninspiring now as it was back in 2007. Similarly, the anachronistic additional “surprise guests” The Sunshine Underground manage to survive a set that comprises mainly of songs no one really remembers apart from that one song some people kind of remember from a time when New Rave was afflicting music’s landscape. Like an also-ran NME awards tour - and in true authentic lad-rock drudgery style –  the futile chanting of “Yorkshire” ensues, suggesting that their fan-base are just as inane as their music. Still, both acts allegedly manage to dupe big enough crowds to keep their egos afloat.

A hasty onset of mid-festival apathy sees me head towards The Packhorse to catch the elusive City Yelps on the way to Leeds University Stylus. The Leeds trio aren't on the Live At Leeds bill and this is an entirely separate event, but their ramshackle pop that recalls Flying Nun's aesthetic, and innocuous cacophony that triumphs in the same vein as Swell Maps, only purports the notion that Leeds’ DIY scene is often overlooked at events like this.

Savages are on hand to breathe new life into the event with a set that is as flawed as it is abrasively exhilarant. It’s not often that a band comes around and validates the hype with palpable conviction, but Savages’ strengths are within their ability to translate the caustic belligerence of their records into their live performances. Unfortunately there are sound issues from the start: failing mics and poor sound provokes apprehension, but it doesn't detract from Jehnny & co's unyielding, visceral post-punk that's not quite been interpreted this well since its pinnacle. The petulant 'Fuckers' dispels the myth that female bands are adverse to singing about anything remotely indignant, and by the time 'Husbands' ensues Savages are a conquering force to be reckoned with, rendering a high octane set of vehement, angular post-punk that's perhaps best suited to smaller, dingier venues where you can properly let them coax you in and lose yourself in the beguile and sprawl.

The festival concludes with a denouement of unabashed indie rock music delivered flawlessly by New Yorkers The Walkmen who never fail to surpass expectations when it comes to their live performances. The majority of material comes from more recent endeavours Lisbon and Heaven - with 'Heartbreaker' already sounding like a classic that's been around for years - but it's, predictably, the anthemic 'The Rat' that reigns supreme tonight as Hamilton's sonorous vocal howl strains its way through this bitter lament. What's most noticable here - and what separates The Walkmen from the other headline acts - is the band's progression into a confident, mature force, comfortable in their craft after a decade together. Live At Leeds may be habitually safe with its line-up, but it's moments like the aforesaid that make it all feel worthwhile.