“This is Green Man, right?” asks Robin Pecknold as he surveys the adoring, welly-clad crowd, “so we can play a sad song without you all leaving to watch 30 Seconds To Mars?” The Fleet Foxes front man may be joking but he has a point. What makes Green Man Festival special isn’t necessarily its stunning location in Glanusk Park, beneath the dazzling Brecon Beacons, or the vast array of “alternative” stalls flogging vegan paella and hemp ponchos, or the refreshing lack of big name sponsors cluttering the stage sets with logos. It’s not even the slightly unnerving pagan undercurrents (I’m pretty sure there was a druid in front of me in the cider queue, and they burn a gigantic wicker man on the last night – very Summerisle…) What makes Green Man stand out in the now vastly overcrowded summer-festival marketplace is the peculiar mix of Americana, folk and spacey Electronica on display, and the kind of music fan this cheery eclecticism attracts. Green Man is a festival that remains relatively unspoiled by the kind of posers who only attend to accumulate charmingly mud-stained profile pictures. Instead it remains primarily populated by genuine hippies, families and more erstwhile folk fans than you can shake a mandolin at.
This is a festival that sets big names (Fleet Foxes, Noah And The Whale, Laura Marling) against smaller, less commercial acts, often carefully selected for their powerful live presence. The festival’s manageable size (three main music stages with a number of smaller stages scattered throughout) means that discovering exciting new talent is almost inevitable. The Far Out tent is the best pace to catch some of the festival’s more esoteric offerings. Lia Ices charms with ethereal electro-pop, like Joanna Newsom if she’d spent less time wandering the woods and more time honing her keyboard skills in Brooklyn bars, although Justin Vernon collaboration ‘Daphne’, remains her most beguiling melody. Wry Texan troubadour Josh T. Pearson (Saturday) promises to make the audience sad, and would almost certainly have succeeded if his searing and introspective Americana hadn’t been intercut with playful patter. Nonetheless, it’s Brooklyn based quintet The Antlers (Sunday) that attract the most attention, with a committed and powerful rendition of heart-felt, high-concept electronic rock.
Similarly rich pickings can be found throughout. On Friday the atmospheric kicks of Explosions In The Sky may be headlining the Main Stage, but it’s support act Bellowhead that steal the show, living up to a formidable live reputation with a shamelessly crowd-pleasing blend of traditional folk, music hall and choreographed spectacle. Villagers also impress, with a surprisingly muscular performance from diminutive Irish singer-songwriter Conor J. O’Brien, complete with wolf howls and a distinctly stoned-looking bass player. Saturday belongs undoubtedly to Fleet Foxes, whose trademark ‘Beach Boys on a camping weekend’ harmonies are undeniably enchanting and predictably warmly received. Nonetheless a shout out has to go to Noah And The Whale, if just for the sheer balls of opening their set of unashamedly throw-back pop anthems with an instrumental ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, sung by the crowd to an empty stage.
Those who could tear themselves away from the showier stages were rewarded by hidden gems in the most unassuming of nooks. Husband-and-wife folk duo Trevor Moss and Hannah Lou give a low-key but lovely lunchtime performance in the Cinema Tent on Sunday, her rich alto and his unexpected falsetto blending with instinctive spousal synchronicity. On Saturday, punters queuing for a pint at the endearingly laid-back pub stage were treated to an energetic performance from We Are Evergreen, a charming, ukulele-strewn Parisian collective. Even the Rough Trade store doubled as a venue for low-key tasters from the likes of The Leisure Society, Alessi’s Ark and Benjamin Francis Leftwich, allowing the sort of up-close audience interaction that is missing from so many larger, slicker festivals.
As the festival drew to a close with a mellow set from experimental-folk king Samuel Beam, a.k.a. Iron and Wine, you’d be hard pressed to find a punter who hadn’t enjoyed their fair share of rapturous moments. Beam’s encore, a gorgeous acoustic rendition of ‘He Lays The Reins’, was rendered all the more memorable by Beam’s inability to repress fits of giggles at the crowd’s arrhythmic attempts to clap along. In a statement that feels more like genuine sentiment than mere flattery, Beam repeatedly reminds the crowd that “Green Man is a special festival”. Judging by the mutual affection on display throughout, this weekend remains close to the hearts of performers and punters alike. My advice? Go while it’s still small enough to be magic – just please don’t tell the posers, they’ll all want some.