LIVE: 2000 Trees Festival // Saturday
- Jul 26, 2017
- 5 min read
Photo: Cai Dixon
Normally, the last day of a festival is all about winding down; easing off the drinking a little to make tomorrow’s hometime hangover just a tad more bearable, staying up until 2AM rather than 3AM, and trying to make your last clean pair of socks last by avoiding the mud pits wherever possible. That said, 2000 Trees is a little festival that packs one hell of a punch, and with so many amazing bands to round off the weekend, it was more than a little difficult to apply the breaks.
Even from the beginning, every band seemed intent on bringing the bangers, with Freeze The Atlantic delivering a characteristically stompy set that managed to even sneak in some surprisingly melodic moments. The People Are Revolting proved a particular favourite, and then it was time to head over Souer on the Nue stage, who gave the waiting crowd a double dose of female-fronted, surprisingly catchy rock that was refreshing and addictive in its utter lack of pretense.
Photo: Cai Dixon
Meanwhile, The Hyena Kill were busy chalking up another date in support of their second album, not to mention proving that ambitious, unrelenting hard rock never goes out of style. With assassin-like precision, the self-confessed “proud cows on acid” managed to get even the sleepiest patrons dancing, even if by the end of the set they stumbled out completely bewildered as to what had just happened.
As for the main stage, it was Manchester festival-connoisseurs Spring King’s turn in the driver's seat, who praised the festival for refusing to go corporate before launching into a bouncy, party-music inspired set that managed to simultaneously invoke both the B-52’s enthusiasm and The Courteeners laidback cool. Better Man was a groovy and summer soaked opening gambit, while darker fare like Demons and (unsurprisingly) It’s So Dark added a grungy edge that no festival should have to survive without.
Photo: Cai Dixon
Even the banter struck the perfect balance between endearing and uncompromising, with a sweet anecdote about getting Slaves’ alcohol while on tour in the Czech Republic going hand in hand with the declaration that - “this isn’t a yoga retreat, it’s a mosh retreat!” Finally, after a few more britpop-tinged offerings, the band bowed out to raucous applause, but not without admitting they’d forgotten to give their merch to the tent and if anyone wanted a t-shirt, they’d just have to do their best to find one.
Despite the festival making efforts to be more diverse, The Petrol Girls seemed determined to even out the gender stakes by sheer force of will, and made it clear to their slightly taken aback crowd that they were not afraid to get political. The whole set hit with the force of dynamite, but that’s not to say there weren’t highlights, with frontwoman Liepa dedicating her set to those protesting at the G20 Summit and prefacing her songs with opinions about everything from the pervasive culture of violence to the less visible but much needed elements of activism. That unabashed approach was in their music too, with the feminism-laced hardcore carrying all the force of an atom bomb as it blasted through the audience.
Over on the mainstage things were a little less subversive but no less appreciated, with Gnarwolves and Honeyblood giving the audience a double bill of groove-soaked, family friendly punk rock. Gnarwolves set ranged from chilled out, harmony-laden favourites like Straightjacket, to classically mournful pop-punk offerings like Shut Up and Boneyard. The anecdotes were in abundance too, with a clever quip that since it was their third time playing at the festival, they “only needed to play 1997 more times to be on par”. That, along with the fact they had previously toured with essentially every other band on the bill made the whole thing feel like a family affair.
Photo: Cai Dixon
Honeyblood, when they weren’t singing Slaves’ praises, were a picture of sweetly disenfranchised cool, with Shut Up and Love Is A Disease delivering on the promise of undeniable vocals. What they called “Slow Moshes” were in abundance, but they managed to make time for a little one-one-one crowd interaction, dedicating a song to Georgia, who came all the way from Sydney just to give the band Tim Tams.
The Front Bottoms hit the mainstage to defend their titles as the most adorable group in pop-punk, and after a few fun jokes about being locked in a portaloo, not to mention a set that pulled from every inch of their back catalogue, it was time for the big names.
Photo: Cai Dixon
Lower Than Atlantis delivered a set with the practised ease that only comes from touring relentlessly since 2007, and seemed to fly through track after track with little heed for the audience or the fact that they had more than enough time. They only eased off after frontman Mike realised, laughed, and said something to the effect of: “Fuck me mate we’re whizzing through these, gotta make it last innit!” After that, it was smooth sailing through a whole set of family-friendly radio rock, with Had Enough, Bug and Work For It proving particular favourites.
Photo: Cai Dixon
Menzingers’ opening chords brought people literally running to the tent, before blowing through a selection of tunes that seemed poised to confirm them as the nicest people in rock. Each song was dedicated to another band on the set, with Gnarwolves, Rolo Tomassi and Apologies, I Have None all getting a mention. “England, pioneers of engineering and design!” shouted co-vocalist Greg, the object of his attention being a helmet made entirely out of beer cans. The Shakes brought an old school cool edge to proceedings, but no song on the set could top I Don’t Want To Be An Asshole Anymore, which had the whole crowd screaming and crying in turn.
Photo: Cai Dixon
To say that almost everyone was there for Slaves would be an understatement, it seemed like every man, woman and child on-site had turned out to watch the duo play, with even the security straining their necks to catch as much of the set as they possibly could. Things kicked off with the loudest Jeremy Corbyn of the weekend, before launching into a neon-drenched, expositional set that covered everything from their origin story (“we’re a two-piece because nobody else was up for it”) and their weirdly insufficient drum kit (“I want everyone to chant Fuck The Highhat, okay?”).
Photo: Cai Dixon
Obviously all the heavy hitters were there, Where’s Your Car Debbie caused so much crowdsurfing that security literally had to call for reinforcements, while Consume Or Be Consumed raised just the right amount of political ire. Then, after a surprisingly touching rendition of Beauty Quest and an undeniably epic rendition of The Hunter that made the ground shake, it was all over. The tents were packed up and the lights taken down, carrying with them a sense that next year, if such a thing was even possible, things would be even bigger.
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