There is an air of excitement filling this cavernous warehouse on the outskirts of Newcastle this evening as it presents us with a rare yet intriguing prospect - the thought of one of the world’s loudest bands in such an underused space fills us with glee. Swans are currently taking their new album To Be Kind on a world tour; fortunately for us we have front row seats as these behemoths hit Newcastle.

We arrive as Jenny Hval takes to the stage, hunched over a plethora of electronic goodies yelping and wailing. Her performance is somewhere between electronic brilliance and eclectic weirdness at its best. However, this all seems supplementary, as we watch the dancing lights and the visuals being projected on to the exposed beams above us.

Jenny’s set passes over us though, the excitement too much, as we prepare for a sonic assault of epic proportions. Swans take to the stage very early, just after 8:30. They open with ‘Frankie M’, and the sound is unbelievable as we stand at the front, the sheer force of these monolithic beasts physically moves us as we cannot help but escape from the front for fear of our ears.

Michael Gira and his band serenade us with tracks from To Be Kind, the awesome ‘Just A Little Boy’ sounds absolutely unbelievable. Built on a solitary horn into something humongous, it’s like a wall of sound that no matter where you are it hits you full in the face. With signs up all over the venue directing the audience to the bar for earplugs, these make absolutely no difference as the incredible low frequencies still tear into you.

‘The Apostate’ from album The Seer, provokes a similar reaction, this time built on a solitary slide guitar to begin with. It builds as members of the band add their individual parts, until this cacophonous sound reaches its full force, shaking the building with its machine gun-like power. By this point we’re pinned to back of the venue soaking up the sonic delights on offer.

They close fittingly with the awesome ‘Bring The Sun’, a track that takes almost no time at all to build to an instant hit of sheer power, before slowing and allowing Michael’s vocals to serenade us. ‘Bring The Sun’ closes out again with another hit of sheer power, once more shaking us to our cores before the band disappear.

They leave us filled with awe and amazement as to what has just happened, it's safe to say Swans truly took our breath away this evening, in more ways than one. An amazing experience; the heat, the sound and the excitement, nothing can beat this feeling and it's an experience we’re unlikely to see repeated until Swans' inevitable return.

Day Three arrived in the same wet spirit as Day Two but at least this time I'd no further to go for breakfast than the hotel across the road. Following that though the rain did end up forcing me to seek shelter in another good find of a pub, in the shape of The Corn Dolly. From there it was off to another establishment well appointed for beer, albeit of the distinctly craft variety, for the first of today's performances.

The Topic Folk Club (the oldest continuously-operating weekly folk club of its type in the world) were making use of the basement space of The Sparrow to provide an afternoon of (largely) acoustic performances. The self-effacing Michael Thomas Chater was the first singer I saw perform and his playing, particularly on the steel guitar, was strongly emotive & his lyrics on such songs as 'Second Glance' made for good little slices of life. Informing us that he'd been housesitting for his Mum up till today & a slightly odd anecdote about how he came by his new Gretsch cheaply (via eBay from a bloke in Harrogate who'd "only played it for half an hour") simply broke down that usual performer/audience barrier.

Next up was another highlight performance of the weekend from illustrator & poet Matthew The Horse. Sporting a Frasier t-shirt, and with his artwork also being exhibited on the walls he proceeded to read out some of the funniest (though not without fair doses of pathos & common sense) some of the funniest poetry I've heard in a long time. Not, in fact, that then or now I could remember the last time I'd seen a poet perform. With subject matter ranging from family members to Kath Kidston to wanking off a snake the audience were in stitches throughout and I highly recommend catching him in action if you can.

The final act in a very well managed bill (it was helpful to have club personnel advising what was going on - something practically every other venue lacked) was locally-based alt folk singer Gerrard Bell-Fife. A shy-seeming bloke his show was clearly a must-see for many as he ended up surrounded by near-acolytes at his feet. As he and his Woody Guthrie-referencing guitar got into their downbeat and introspective stride though it was easy to see what draws the fans in. Folk generally aims for the everyman quality and Bell-Fife extolls that to a tee with his writing and performing, which is amongst the most unassuming I've ever seen.

From folk to the Fuse Art Space next where I caught the remainder of Manchester-based Lee Patterson's sound art performance, amidst the reflective Lydia Goldblatt exhibition. All manner of almost recognisable found sounds were coming from the speakers, wrapped up in effects applied and then removed as only Patterson reasoned. Things were set on fire and the resulting combustion amplified and messed with. Fascinating to watch and oddly beguiling to hear.

Today's final port of call, as it turned out, was the city's anarchist-run 1 in 12 Club for a return to more traditional music making in the shape of Castleford quintet Allusondrugs. Sound-wise there was a dose of '90s Seattle throughout their joyfully rampant set of songs such as 'Stick A Finger Up My Bum', 'I'm Your Man' and whatever one they dedicated to the Queen whilst suggesting she go and employ herself more usefully. The need for dinner intervened at this point & by the time I returned to the club to discover that Cleft had been & gone earlier than advertised Alt-Track's punk/hip-hop crossover wasn't enough to convince my legs they could deal with a few more hours of standing about and then walking a few more miles to take in the closing party and then make it to bed so it was goodnight Vienna.

That then was my Threadfest 2014. An event as varied as you'll find anywhere and which I'll happily return to. With luck it can grow and manage to do more for the largely local acts that take part and it deserves to do so. From the point of view of a visitor looking to sample the bits of each day's programme, rather than a local looking to catch their mate's band or favourite local heroes come out of retirement on a single day, a more obvious presence of festival rather than show personnel, who were aware of delays at other venues or could communicate last minute line-up changes, is something to work towards for next year but obviously that relies on willing volunteers and the pool of those may not yet be so big as to make that possible. Otherwise, well done to all concerned.     

Saturday in Bradford initially promised a break in the weather but by Noon my pre-gig wander found me taking shelter and lunch in The Fighting Cock (a fortuitous discovery if ever there was one). Two hours and a couple of pints later it was still cats & dogs outside so the trusty taxi was resorted to once more for the trip to Al's Dime Bar.

Once seated in Al's it became clear that timings were again pretty fluid as initial act Rory Holl was yet to take to the stage despite it being nearer 3pm. Whether this was due to an act dropping out I've no idea. Had he though not been on the event programme you could have been forgiven for thinking Holl'd been drafted in at the last minute given his professed lack of a set-list. Maybe that's just how he rolls. His own songs 'Wires' and 'Bless This House' were good and displayed a wry wit along with his clear tones but he relied rather too much on cover versions, even if it's not often that you hear 'Rocky Raccoon' getting an airing.

From Al's it was a hike back to the Delius Art and Cultural Centre, with a pit-stop for dinner,to catch Canadian duo Nadja in action. The centre, having been a church in a previous life, has fantastic acoustics so the pair's massive, doom-heavy sound benefited greatly from that as they pounded away on the guitar & bass and twiddled the odd switch or two on their electronics package. Bringing to mind the likes of Godflesh this wasn't quite what you'd call industrial but certainly something closely associated with it. A towering performance that you felt had the audience holding its breath for the duration.

Now came the most frustrating period of the weekend in terms of that flexible attitude to stage times, although in fairness I should have opted to turn up at The Tavern In The Town late and gone to check out left-field jazz pianist Matthew Bourne at Glyde House on the way. As it was, a desire for something more rock-oriented took me back across the city centre to try to see local act Iron Rat. Astheir gear was still mostly on the hall floor when I arrived, however, it became clear no one on the bill here would be hitting their advertised start time. To cut a long story short I finally saw them play (in front of an unexpectedly small though loyal crowd) on my third return to the venue. Heavy, stoner riffs were unleashed as expected but whilst they had their moments, especially on 'Monument', there was an underlying pedestrianism about the performance. Whether they were just off their game, set back by tech issues or have played at home once too often wasn't clear but on the night they didn't bring their A game. I saw some of the Dawn Of Elysium set here too but can't I feel do them any justice other than to say they went down well with the crowd and looked to be having fun (other than their keyboardist during the soundcheck, who more than one punter noted looked glum).

From The Tavern In The Town it was time for a return to the Playhouse, but not before the strains of music in the night air detoured me to the City Vaults pub where local rock trio Francis were making quite a racket & going down well. Whether this was part of the official programme of events was unclear but the BTF14 poster was in the window. 'Living Stone' was a particularly enjoyable instrumental and I'd wager the group like to listen to a bit of Rush in their spare time. Once at the Playhouse there was time to take in the final couple of songs by London trio Snack Family, who on the strength of that were worth buying a t-shirt and EP by. Basically if you liked Morphine then these guys are right up your street. Finally tonight came the motorik Japanese trio Nisennenmondai, with their practically hypnotic, driving sound. Imagine Shonen Knife suddenly deciding to start covering Neu and you'll be in the right sort of area. Excellent stuff although to one Yorkshireman heard upon leaving the venue they were "just girls playing Tangerine Dream". That's as may be but they did it extremely well.   

The final day arrives bathed in sunshine, allowing for any respective hangovers to melt away. We start by popping by catching a bit of The Crooked Brothers and their Americana tinged folk, complete with banjos and beards. This afternoon we have plumped to be healed by some soothing reggae sounds courtesy of the always wonderful Hollie Cook. She is in a large tent structure close to Brighton Pier and thanks the crowd for having the strength to join her at midday. She, as always, delivers subtle reggae pop tunes whilst more Jamaican influences come via the ska sounds of Lazy Talk who increase the tempo and get our tired feet a-tapping.

Feeling refreshed and refuelled, we plump for indie rockers Fe whose large entourage create a chilled rock vibe to conclude our final afternoon session. We pop into the Great Escape free bar purely to bridge the gap between the afternoon session and the evening shows and are treated to sounds via Finnish DJ Jaakko Eino Kalevi.

The final session begins with a simply stunning performance from acoustic maestro The Bony King Of Nowhere. Playing in the Brighton Unitarian Church he stands with the evening light streaming in via stained glass windows as he holds the audience spellbound with a magical performance. His voice is beautifully magnified by the acoustics of the venue. Clearly a wonderful talent, he is without a doubt one of the weekend's stand out performances.

We then catch a quick glimpse of the acoustic pop sounds of Yumi And The Weather, before heading to Brighton seafront for Future Islands via Ipswich's finest Blaenavon, whose comical rock provides great entertainment and crowd participation.

The queues for the main venues are, by now, huge and we start to panic and contemplate who and where will be are next port of call. We know we want to end the night with the chilled electronic sounds of Hidden Orchestra and Jon Hopkins. In order to ensure we get to the venue on time we plump for Belgian four piece BRNS. The Brussels boys create a large drum focused sound in a small intimate hotel lounge. Our decision to plump for the late shows for Hidden Orchestra and Hopkins proves fruitful as the other venues seem fit to bursting. We see the huge queues for hip hop supremo’s Jungle and even bigger queues for the wonderful Kelis. However we are satisfied we have made the right decision and are not disappointed; a larger venue for the two acts rewarding us with some wonderful sounds as we contemplate a great three days of music and frolics.

Roll on next year and the Festival's 10th anniversary; we know it will be even more amazing than this one. Thank you Brighton and good night.