Way Out West Festival – Gothenburg – 2008

Boredom
Fast Cars
I Don’t Mind
Autonomy
Get On Our Own
What Ever Happened
Oh Shit
Pulsebeat
You Say You Don’t
Sound of a Gun
Noise Annoys
Breakdown
Love You More
What Do I Get
Promises
Harmony In My Head
——–
Orgasm Addict / Ever Fallen In Love

Compiled of a bill that seemed to have no rhyme or reason, and perhaps because of it’s eclectic nature, rather than following current trends with current acts and unnecessarily overfilling bills as do the majority of European festivals, Way Out West seemed intent on placating the locals with some home talent, while opening the gates for all genres of music within the bounds of the two days/three stage set-up. The appearance of staunch festival veterans like Nick Cave, Sonic Youth and Neil Young gave the festival a professional touch while allowing lesser-known bands to stretch their legs with 45 minute to an hour sets all round. The first show of the festival proper Webcuts caught (prodigious late sleepers and all…) was Seattle’s The Sonics, a veritable garage rock blast from the past. Now well into their 50s and 60s, they were consummate showmen, playing out a tight set of ’60s garage rock staples, like “Have Love, Will Travel” and “Walkin’ The Dog” as well as the songs we were all hanging out to hear, “Strychnine” and “The Witch” from their now classic debut album Here are The Sonics. Was this band loved or what? It seemed like the entire tent was full of garage rock freaks losing their shit en masse.

Franz Ferdinand apparently played a killer set on the main stage however the Webcuts team have long held a soft spot for Will Sheff and his band of merry men and (now) woman from Austin so instead bounded off to hear Okkervil River’s literate folk rock. Truth be told we’ve seen better performances by the band; Will lacked some of his usual passion and new guitarist Lauren, while technically competent, was a little stiff, but the main problem was the paltry 45 minutes allocated made the nine songs breeze by far too quickly. Still, portions from The Stage Names bristled with verve and veracity including “Plus Ones”, a nod to other numerical themed songs, the bar room stomp of “Hand to Take Hold of the Scene” and the rasping “Life is Not a Movie or Maybe”. The airing of new tune “Lost Coastlines”, a gentle duet and highlight from forthcoming LP The Stand Ins, proved a welcome surprise, but it was the older, more strident selections such as “Black”, “The Latest Toughs” and set closer “For Real” that were the real crowd pleasers. A breathless, sweat soaked Sheff apologised for their swift exit but promised the band will return to Sweden in October. Going by the number of punters baying for more, they’d better.

Plus Ones
A Hand To Take Hold of The Scene
Black
All The Latest Toughs
A Girl in Port
Lost Coastlines
John Allyn Smith Sails
Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe
For Real

Burning Spear
World Looks Red
Bull in the Heather
Hey Joni
The Sprawl
‘Cross the Breeze
The Wonder
Hyperstation
Drunken Butterfly
Mote
Jams Run Free
Pink Steam

Sonic Youth provided a disparate soundtrack while standing disgruntled in the food queue. Still feeling the after-effects of touring Daydream Nation in full, their current set featured many of those songs, unfortunately not the good ones. At first thought, Webcuts was thrilled Sonic Youth were on the bill, but they aren’t your typical festival band anymore (our last Sonic Youth festival experience being over a decade ago when they encored with Iggy Pop and Nick Cave for a rousing “I Wanna Be Your Dog” but we digress…). They don’t have a solid gold festival set, nor do they seem a band who would throw the audience a few bones to keep people from straying. Lee Ranaldo took us on a trip through “Mote” from 1990’s Goo and Kim Gordon, relieved of bass guitar duties by Pavement’s Mark Ibold, took centre stage to sing “Drunken Butterfly” from 1992’s Dirty but all together it wasn’t enough to separate us from our quest for a hamburgare.

The last eighteen months have seen Brooklyn five piece The National go from “band to watch” to “watch that band!”, their rapid rise to the top of the indie pile evidenced by the multitudes trying to shoehorn into the Linné tent. We lost count of the amount of times we uttered “Ursäkta mig” (“Excuse me”) when making a beeline for the stage, but suffice to say it was probably similar to the number of swaying fans in attendance — more than five thousand. Our judicious jostling proved worthwhile though, as a year of solid touring has shaped a tight live act into something extraordinary. Vocalist Matt Berninger switched from autistic aloofness to manic intensity in the beat of a snare drum, both the Dessner and Devendorf sets of brothers played with consummate skill, while Padma Newsome on keys and violin fleshed out the aural soundscape. The addition of two horn players enhanced the already lavish tracks especially on the relaxed ballads “Slow Show”, “Racing Like a Pro” and the towering “Fake Empire”. Expect to see them on the main stage this time next year.

Star a War
Brainy
Secret Meeting
Baby We’ll Be Fine
Slow Show
Mistaken for Strangers
Abel
Squalor Victoria
Racing Like a Pro
Apartment Story
Ada
Fake Empire
Mr November

Depth Charge Ethel
Get It On
Electric Alice
Grinderman
(I Don’t Need You To) Set Me Free
When My Love Comes Down
Honey Bee (Let’s Fly To Mars)
Dream
Man In The Moon
No Pussy Blues
Love Bomb
————————-
Tupelo

As darkness enveloped Slottskogen it was only fitting that Gothenburg’s own purveyors of brooding, angst rock, Broder Daniel, took to the stage for one last time. Black clad “panda” indie girls and boys (who singer Henrik Berggren later refers to as “his children”) pour out of the shadows to stake a good view, while older Swedes, whose teenage years in the ’90s were spent listening to Forever, also crowded the Flamingo arena out of curiosity and nostalgia. Broder Daniel were always a band to divide opinion and their swansong is no different. They either played a classic set of dark, carthatic rock whose lyrics, at one time or another, provided a soundtrack to your troubled life, or they were an decidely average indie band whose singer was partially tone-deaf, wore a dracula cape, and too much makeup. But all but the hardest of hearts were moved when Berggren dedicated the Mamas and Papas sounding new song “Hold On to Your Dreams” to former guitarist Andrews Göthberg who died earlier this year. After a brief pause to allow hands and hankies the opportunity to wipe away tears it was back to ragged guitar lines and tales of heartbreak and loneliness with “What’s Good”, “I’ll Be Gone” (one of the songs from the film Fucking Amål that helped Broder Daniel breakthrough into the Swedish mainstream) and “Shoreline”. The finale which saw Henrik play the bittersweet “No Time for Us” armed only with an acoustic guitar and simple melody was deeply affecting and as the camera panned to show numerous young fans muddying up their mascara it dawned upon us that there could be no better way to bring closure to both the first day of Way Out West and the career of such an idiosyncratic band.

The Middleclass
Old In Just One Day
Sorrow
Dream My Days Away
Work
Lemon
Hold On to Your Dreams
What’s Good
Cruel Town
Happy People Never Fantasize
I’ll Be Gone
Only Life I Know
When We Were Winning
————————
Hardened Heart
You Bury Me
Shoreline
Whirlwind
No Time for Us (Acoustic)

The lingering overcast weather that dogged Friday greeted us again upon re-entrance into Way Out West on Saturday, the third and final day of the festival. We quickly moved through the mildly muddy site, sidestepping Kelis (in fear of having “Milkshake” stuck in our head all day) in favour for some good old Sahara Hotnights. From The Runaways through to The Donnas, you can’t go wrong with girls in tight pants rocking out. It gives us jaded music fans something to unwind to and in a festival environment it’s one way of adding a little onstage sparkle, lifting the grey skies into spandex shades of pink and blue. Opening their set with cute ’80s classic “Japanese Boy”, they set about unleashing an hours worth of quickfire rock and roll tunes, stretching right through their ten year career (but sadly no “Drive Dead Slow”). Despite giving an entertaining and first class performance Sahara Hotnights are still lacking in the memorable rock anthem department that is necessary for the big stages. “Cheek to Cheek” from their most recent album What if Leaving is a Loving Thing displayed a sleeker, sexier side to these Swedish ladies that was unlikely to fall on deaf ears, or eyes…

Meanwhile, fellow countrymen Caesars balanced out the oestrogen overload with an all male line-up at the Linné stage. Ostensibly fronted by the laid-back César Vidal it was guitarist/backing vocalist Joakim “Jocke” Åhlund who proved to be the real centre of attention as he enthusiastically ran around the stage, bopped up and down and swung his guitar in various directions endearing himself to the audience. The piano led title track from this year’s double disc Strawberry Weed (produced by The Soundtrack of Our Lives Ebbott Lundberg, also spied at in attendance) set the tone for the remainder of the show — uncomplicated power pop and catchy garage rock with simplistic themes and no frills vocals. Newer cuts such as “Boo Goo Goo” and “New Breed” were fun, but it was the Farsia organ enriched “Candy Kane” and ode to onanism; the iPod/video game licensed hit “Jerk it Out”, which packed a meatier punch. Leaving the best to last, the new wave smarts of “Punkrocker” from one of Webcuts’ all time favourite Swedish indie albums, Cherry Kicks, was an astute move but overall we were left a little underwhelmed, craving a set of greater substance, something which we hoped the next act to grace the tent’s stage would provide.

Strawberry Weed
We Got To Leave
Over ‘fore it Started
Stuck With You
Spirit
Paper Tigers
Jerk it Out
Boo Boo Goo Goo
New Breed
Candy Kane
Punkrocker

Silverbullit were the dark horse of the festival; a local five piece with only three albums, a smattering of live shows and a modicum of press under their belt, but who have managed to generate an aura of mystique and reverence. The tension in the humid air was palpable as the band clambered onto the stage, most eyes focused on singer Simon Olsson whose past performances have become the stuff of legend. With the band providing a heavy wall of sound backing he did not disappoint, employing the classic Jekyll and Hyde tactic; still and intense one second, violent and manic the next. One “holy shit!” moment came when he ripped a synthesiser from its stand, threw it to the floor, and then body surfed the helpless instrument, before brutally rearranging the stage monitors. His colleagues didn’t batter an eyelid, and instead got down to the business of creating primal, fucked up rock ‘n’ roll. While on record Silverbullit concoct a guitar and electronic haze in concert it was initially more Stooges than Suicide, with the remaining synths (luckily they had three more) not getting used until after the half way mark. While this meant some of the subtly and melody of favourites such as “Magnetic City” and “Star” were lost, such was the brazen energy of the performance no one really cared. The band retired to a hero’s ovation, but luckily they were one of the few non-headline acts to be granted an encore, but first an armchair was wheeled out, and soon after a bald, sickly looking gentleman to sit in it. Silverbullit returned and provided backing for the man, who we later learn is Freddie Wadling something of a Gothenburg legend, to bark out the lead vocals. Somehow the bizarre pairing worked and instead of lessening the previous hour it only strengthened it so when Silverbullit finally retreated the audience were elated, realising they’d witnessed one of the best shows of the weekend, but also devastated, knowing it could be a long, long while before they witnessed the band again.

Fleet Foxes were a band we knew nothing about, bar a passing familiarity with the name and a report that they were better than Beach House when both bands played in London recently. “Heresy”, we said, but as it seems there may have been some credibility in this, as Fleet Foxes played one of the most memorable and captivating sets of the entire festival. Showcasing material largely from their astounding debut of this year, Fleet Foxes were both enthralling and uplifting, a mix of My Morning Jacket style Southern country and Crosby, Stills and Nash harmonies. It was a far more rustic and earthy sound than most Americana-style bands could ever hope to achieve. It was on a song a like “Oliver James” that we noticed the similarities between vocalist Robin Pecknold and that of My Morning Jacket’s Jim James. Their choral vocals rising together as they do on “White Winter Hymnal” felt like you were standing in the middle of a church while listening to the Beach Boys sing a capella as their voices all fall into one. It was an unforgettable moment, both in front and on-stage, as the rapturous applause seemed to take even the band by surprise.

We only caught a fleeting glimpse of Håkan Hellström and his band while carefully traversing the mud and strewn bodies on our quest to cross the festival’s arenas, but it we couldn’t help but admire his on-stage energy and showmanship. His everything-but-the-kitchen-sink mix of anthemic rock, pop and soul, mixed with piano based ballads was perfect festival fodder and naturally “Känn ingen sorg för mig Göteborg” (“Don’t feel bad for me, Gothenburg”) received a warm welcome by his fellow Gothenburgians.

Webcuts planned to sit down during The Flaming Lips, our legs and backs not being as young as they used to be, but then we spied? Wayne Coyne encased in a plastic bubble rolling over the heads of thousands of gig goers and had to get a closer look. As “Race for the Prize” filled the arena Way Out West was assailed by many spectacles — dozens of huge helium filled orange balloons, a stage full of teletubbies, Wayne shooting a ribbon gun into the crowd and a blinding rear projection screen to name a few. True we had been warned to expect something similar but to experience it in the flesh was another thing entirely. When Wayne strapped on a twin neck guitar for the ’70s hard rock vibe of “Free Radicals” and an oversized alien joined the dancing ‘tubbies things veered from the absurd to the ridiculous but by that point weird was a relative concept. After the initial visual and aural blast a couple of the slower tracks such “Vein of Stars” and “Yoshimi” were played and the crowd, like a child bored with a new toy, started to lose interest. A verse from “After the Goldrush” intended to pay homage to the headlining artist backfired and instead prompted people to start leaving en masse to the other stage, a shame as the majestic closer “Do You Realize??”, was probably the best of the set. Entertaining to a fault, The Flaming Lips had both the songs and the spectacle but need to learn how to pace both to keep the attention of an audience.

Ta Dah
Race for the Prize
Free Radicals
Mountainside
Vein of Stars
The Process
After the Gold Rush (excerpt)
Yoshima
Pompeii am Götterdämmerung
The W.A.N.D. (The Will Always Negates Defeat)
Do You Realize??

Love and Only Love
Hey Hey, My My
Powderfinger
Fuckin’ Up
Cortez the Killer
Cinnamon Girl
Oh, Lonesome Me
Mother Earth
The Needle and the Damage Done
Unknown Legend
Heart of Gold
Old Man
Just Singing a Song Won’t Change the World
Get Back to the Country
Sea Change
Words
Rockin’ In the Free World
————————–
A Day In the Life

While the Flaming Lips were trying very hard to win over the audience with confetti and teletubbies, numbers were slowly drifting away from their side of the park to where Neil Young’s stage was being set up, hard as it is to compete with a living legend. From all reports, Saturday was sold out long before Friday, indicating that most people were here with the sole intention of seeing Neil. Mixing up a set of his classic hits and fan favourites with two brand new numbers, Neil and his ‘Electric Band’ set out on a comprehensive two hour journey through the past. With wife Peggy in tow on backing vocals, Neil opened with a stirring “Love and Only Love”, he quickly played the distorted notes of “Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)” and set his intentions for what was to come immediately. “Cinnamon Girl” and “Cortez the Killer” were delivered with characteristic aplomb, Neil surveying the amassed crowd with a genial “Nice to be back in Sweden”. He also chose this occasion to debut new song “Sea Change”, a mid-paced rocker built around Neil’s squealing guitar riff and environmentally charged lyrics — “Come on, who’s gonna turn this thing around/It’s not too late to make a difference right here on the ground/I think you’re ready now to ride a sea change”. Encoring with the Beatles “A Day In The Life” seemed an unlikely, but appropriate finale, Neil’s voice echoing “I’d like to turn you on” across the park as his band bring forth Way Out West 2008 to a tumultuous and successful close.

Text: Craig Smith and Caleb Rudd with Lisa Hallquist
Photos: Craig Smith and Lisa Hallquist