Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.It’s hard to imagine a better place to listen to music than Larmer Tree Gardens, deep in the rolling countryside of the Dorset/Wiltshire borders, especially when granted fine weather. A wet summer meant the site was still swathed in green, surrounded by farmlands golden with stubble. There is always plenty of music that sounds designed for that setting — pastoral, autumnal, mellow — but End of the Road also ventures far beyond that comfort zone.Take Leeds band The Shits — daytime radio play not a priority here — whose churning, bellicose psychedelic punk was so simple as to be like a steam hammer: often just a repeated riff, with singer Callum Howe bellowing incoherently at the front, thrilling and pummelling. Had they been playing at an actual punk gig, his presence — threatening, offering to meet members of the audience outside, throwing cans into the crowd — might have been thrillingly provocative. At End of the Road, the crowd simply smiled benignly.Though most of this year’s main acts fell under the banner of mellow and/or melancholy, the main stage was headlined on Friday night by Idles, the favourite T-shirt of the festival. At their weakest, it can feel as though singer Joe Talbot is screaming at you what to think from a couple of feet away. But halfway through, “The Beachland Ballroom” — their unlikely deep soul ballad — brought everything to life, and the second half of their set was a brutally effective charge. They’ve long been a thrilling live band; now they have the force of a juggernaut.End of the Road is such a fixture now — both bands and punters return year after year — that it seemed at times as though this year’s event was a little too popular. It has a “soft opening” on Thursday night, with just a few acts, and this year the site seemed already rammed by teatime. The programming was perhaps not designed with that in mind: the main stage offered Richard Dawson, followed by Bonnie “Prince” Billy. Both were entirely admirable — Dawson is one of the British music’s most singular figures — but both were men playing without bands on a big stage. That did not leave a lot of options for those who wanted to party, so the young Irish band NewDad, playing at one of the tented stages, had a 250-yard queue to get in to see them. They weren’t the only act it was almost impossible to see over the weekend: the beloved Scottish indie-pop band Camera Obscura, recently reunited and playing early on Saturday evening, attracted a second-stage crowd so big and filled with love that actually catching sight of them was a struggle. Still: one could concentrate on the delicious melodies, and delight at the near-perfect “Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken”.A standout performance came from one of the many returning artists. Irish singer CMAT is on record a performer of witty, emotionally literate countryish pop. On stage, though, she was more like the host of an incredibly camp early-evening game show — an infectious presence who was determined to make sure everyone had fun as a room full of six-year-olds with a giant bucket of orange squash and a birthday cake: both wholly professional and delightfully amateurish at the same time. To throw in a cover of “Wuthering Heights” — note-perfect, for her voice is astonishingly versatile — was like giving those six-year-olds a PlayStation 5 at the end of the party.However, it also highlighted one thing that End of the Road might consider changing. CMAT’s performance on the main stage was often based on her interactions with her band and with the crowd. Without any big screens, much of that was lost on people further back. End of the Road prides itself, rightly, on taking music seriously, but it now feels a little anachronistic to do without screens on the biggest stage, when they are commonplace at similar events. Likewise, Slowdive’s Saturday headline set: as a shoegaze band, they are duty bound to stand still, staring at their feet, so a little more production would have been nice.Also — no fault of the festival — there were several disappointing cancellations: Sunday-night headliner Fever Ray withdrew (replaced by veteran indie heroes Yo La Tengo); also pulling out were the incredible Tuareg guitarist Mdou Moctar, and Mozart Estate. But these were minor blips, and one cancellation — the punk band Upchuck — allowed a scintillating performance by Sahra Halgan, from Somaliland, backed by a three-piece band who drove her songs mesmerically.Of course, one of the pleasures of a festival is the element of surprise, such as walking into a tent to see two drummers, three guitarists and a bassist playing songs that sounded a bit like The Fall. And then realising they were all members of The Fall, working together as House Of All. And, naturally, a Fall song — “Lay of the Land” — featured in their set. Or The Lemon Twigs, whom I had last seen as teenage Todd Rundgren fetishists, but who, a decade or so on, played a set of such gaudy loveliness it was impossible not to smile.With a little more age, they have expanded their range: they now sound as if they are trying to recreate every part of a pop career spanning 1965 to 1972, from beat pop, through folk rock and psychedelia, to a post-White Album back-to-basics phase and into Nilsson-esque balladry. It could easily be a Sealed Knot-style re-enactment, but the songwriting is so strong that every track sounded like a lost hit, and their impeccably chosen covers (Beach Boys, West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band) slotted in seamlessly.It was a set that captured the weekend perfectly: sunny, joyous and heartwarming. End of the Road isn’t a complicated festival: put on a variety of good bands in a beautiful setting and the rest will take care of itself, weather permitting. And everything else did indeed take care of itself. End of the Road remains a gem.endoftheroadfestival.com
