Words by Abbie Harper
S┼Án Festival is an annual music festival in Cardiff city centre. I was fortunate enough to attend the Saturday and Sunday of this yearÔÇÖs festival, and found the atmosphere to be extremely friendly, chilled out and respectful – it was an event for both hardcore ÔÇÿmusic-headsÔÇÖ and casual fans alike, representing a range in ages, backgrounds and tastes. The artists were just as diverse: the lineup included a significant representation of musicians from various genres, from indie bands to folk singers, hip-hop artists to electronic music producers. Women also featured prominently, which was something I was incredibly happy to see.
One of S┼ÁnÔÇÖs main selling points is its identity as a multi-venue festival: that is, there are gigs happening across multiple bars, pubs, and buildings across Cardiff. This all centres around Womanby StreetÔÇÖs music venues, as the infamous Clwb Ifor Bach has taken over the running of the festival since 2018. Tiny Rebel, The Moon and Fuel are all already established in the Cardiff music scene, and their involvement in S┼Án transforms this part of Cardiff into a
bustling hub of arts and culture for the weekend. Further afield, there is JacobÔÇÖs Basement, hidden away under an antiqueÔÇÖs centre (watching The Family Battenburg here was a particular highlight for me), and Cornerstone, a renovated church that now operates as an arts centre. Tramshed plays host to the artists attracting a larger crowd, particularly the headliners. Because of its wide catchment, S┼Án isnÔÇÖt limited to just live music: pubs, food and merchandise vendors are all awarded a slice of the action. As well as this, workshops and panels offer opportunities for meeting artists and networking within the music industry, showing that S┼Án is just as supportive to aspiring artists as it is to active ones.
S┼Án Festival not only nurtures and supports local talent but also promotes the cultural heritage of Wales. It allows festival-goers to experience the unique sounds and lyrical storytelling that are distinctively Welsh; an example is Ani Glass, who sings predominantly in Welsh and Cornish. I watched her performance in the little live music space in Tiny Rebel on the Saturday of the festival. Her voice, accompanied by 80s synth and an outstanding cellist, was timeless, created a fusion that was both contemporary and rooted in Welsh traditions. Her performances left a lasting impression on the audience, highlighting the significance of Welsh language and music in the contemporary music landscape. Music and lyricism have always been mediums for cultural expression and identity in Wales, and the festival provides a platform for Welsh artists to shine and share their music with a diverse audience.
Words by Polly Brewster
I think it’s symptomatic of the age and culture that we live in, that finding new music which challenges the parameters of your personal taste is becoming more and more difficult. The way I see it, there are two core reasons for this: cost and technology. Despite claims to the contrary, money makes or breaks an artist – those who have a broader appeal receive more financial backing, which is in many ways sensible but also prevents less conventional or normative artists from breaking through, even within local scenes. Cost also prevents people from going to see live music. IÔÇÖm always reluctant to splash out on (increasingly expensive) tickets for artists I donÔÇÖt know, because I donÔÇÖt want to feel IÔÇÖve wasted the money – itÔÇÖs a valid financial decision, but it does take a lot of the curiosity and fun out of the live experience. Simultaneously, the increasing power of the algorithm means that, generally speaking, new music that you ÔÇ£discoverÔÇØ has usually been vetted and picked out as aligning with your existing musical interests – it narrows the parameters of discovery significantly. This isnÔÇÖt to say that IÔÇÖm anti-algorithm, but I do think that itÔÇÖs important to be aware of the fact that the music recommended to you is curated by technology, according to the data youÔÇÖve fed it.┬á
In an interview with Quench magazine, Clwb Ifor BachÔÇÖs Welsh language promoter praised S┼Án Festival for its role as a tastemaker: ÔÇ£itÔÇÖs a great place to discover new music, old favourites, andÔǪjust fall into different venues.ÔÇØ Given my feelings on the above, I was completely enchanted by this prospect, and S┼Án did not disappoint. The teamÔÇÖs curation of such a broad, exciting and boundary-pushing lineup resulted in a weekend of music which constantly challenged my taste, and encouraged a real sense of adventurousness among the festival-goers.
Of course, as you do at a festival, I had a few bands I was keen to see from the start. The Tubs, a Cardiff-born, London-based four-piece, gave an energetic performance in JacobÔÇÖs Gallery. Their music is for grown-ups who were once greasy, unpopular teenagers and have never quite got over it, but their set was imbued with such a sense of humour and pleasure in performance that it skipped straight over being embarrassingly earnest into sheer fun. I was also excited by Dutch indie powerhouse Pip Blom, whose stunning performance on Friday night had the entire crowd dancing, and was equally looking forward to The Last Dinner Party, who unfortunately had to pull out at the last minute due to illness.┬á
But what really stood out to me at S┼Án was the way in which, as Elan Evans says, you could fall into venues and find something totally unexpected. To go from the relaxed, low-fi beats of Alaw, to the high energy fuzzy punk of the Family Battenberg, to Ani GlassÔÇÖ luscious synthesiser soundscapes and finally Pigs x7ÔÇÖs exhausting brand of high energy psych metal in the matter of a few hours on Saturday was a real journey, but one I wouldnÔÇÖt hesitate to take again. Similarly, Sunday offered a real range of artists, from Welsh Music Prize nominee Cerys Hafana, accompanied by harp and bodhran in deliciously reimagined traditional folk, to the grunge and grime of Our Girl and countrified indie of Divorce. The highlight for me, though, came late on Sunday night, with The New EvesÔÇÖ set in Fuel. I only knew one song before I went in, and in fact they only have two on Spotify, but it didnÔÇÖt matter – over their 45 minute set they utterly captivated, with a hauntingly primordial performance which blended folk, progressive rock, jazz and strange evocations of the Bible. I donÔÇÖt know that they necessarily will make it into many peopleÔÇÖs algorithms, purely because their music is so singular and unique, constantly pushing the boundaries of genre, but I came away from their performance with a strong sense that what IÔÇÖd just seen was one of the most exciting things in music this year.
Framing festival-going generally as an adventure is, I think, something I will take with me from S┼Án. Too often IÔÇÖve missed out on artists IÔÇÖd probably enjoy, just because IÔÇÖd never heard of them before. S┼Án was like an antidote to this – through vague knowledge of artists, but mostly through recommendations from other attendees and sometimes sheer coincidence, I managed to discover nearly twenty new artists, all of whom I think are making really exciting contributions to the UKÔÇÖs music scene. To attend a festival which encouraged curiosity and adventure so much was a delight and a privilege, and IÔÇÖm already counting down the days until next year.
Words by Imogen Charles
S┼Án Festival was in short: a movie. What do I mean by this? Well, it was somewhere where you could be up close and personal with the stars of the show, and hear something that either you have never heard before, or something you know, love and cherish.
In terms of loving, knowing, and cherishing, Pip Blom kicked off Friday night with a blast. Their fun and danceable set
was a delight to watch. You could really tell they loved what they do, and it filled the room (and me) with a sense of happiness and joy. Though you wouldnÔÇÖt expect it from the melodic beats of Pip Blom, a mosh emerged; this highlighted to me how important the audience is to the overall experience you have at a festival. This got me thinking about the presence a band has and how this can sometimes be overshadowed by your first impression of them. For example, Bill Ryder-Jones, the second act on Friday, gave me the impression of being more music for a midlife crisis than fitting in with the new era of sound. Their ÔÇÿcomfortableÔÇÖ lyrics and dare-I-say boring influences from the previous era of indie music left something to be desired. As the set went on, the wedding-band fa├ºade did come down to reveal something really heartfelt and passionate, but that first impression is still what sticks in my mind and will probably stop me from relistening.
Contrary to that, a first impression that left me energised was The Family Battenberg. Their epic crowd engagement and truly exciting music cemented them as a band to watch out for. They were very talented musicians and lyrically fun, but overall it was their instant friendliness which made me feel like I was involved, which is what all good music should do. Another band that did this well was Slate, which I saw as the first act of S┼Án on Friday. Their sermon style of
communication created that same sense of community and experience but in a different way. This poetic and heavy set was something I previously wouldnÔÇÖt have listened to but delivered in such a way that will definitely have me coming back for more.
In a festival of multiple different acts, a wide variety of them new to me, discovering new music I enjoyed was a relatively easy thing to do; however, it is my first impression of these bands old and new which have formed my experience of this festival – a case of love (or dislike) at first sight. ‘Til next year, S┼Án!
Thank you so much to the team at S┼Án and Cowshed for a fantastic weekend!
