End of the Road festival: A village fete version of the Crystal Maze, where anything can happen and usually does
The only weekend where Julia Jacklin will turn up unexpectedly and a band called The Shits will call everyone wankers
Technically, these are supposed to be the dog days of the summer, but the sun is beating down mercilessly on Larmer Tree Gardens this Friday afternoon. As a result, End of the Road Festival feels almost like a surreal, shimmering mirage. Clad in black, we move like ants under a magnifying glass, seeking refuge beneath ancient oaks. While the conditions might defy the weather app’s mild predictions, it perfectly encapsulates the festival’s spirit: expect the unexpected.
For almost two decades now, End of the Road has steadfastly upheld its commitment to offering a diverse alternative, and in the summer of 2024 this feels more vital than ever. Against a backdrop of financial strain and uncertainty that has characterised the UK’s festival landscape of late, the festival has continued to establish itself as a bastion of artistic integrity and serendipitous musical discovery, eschewing the pursuit of marquee headliners in favour of curating an experience that celebrates the thrill of exploration and the delight of unearthing new musical treasures. Even the festival’s geography appears to be optimised for discovery, being set out almost like a village fete version of the Crystal Maze, with distinct zones set aside for headliners, up-and-comers and, across a dusty country, areas for the weird and wonderful. With so much on offer, it’s an experience best thought of ‘doing a Glastonbury in miniature’ (and often without a phone signal), where the best strategy is just to wander around and see what happens. To make the most of it, all you need is an open mind and, unlike me, the ability to dress appropriately.
As always, the Woods Stage serves up the weekend’s main events. A natural amphitheatre backdropped by brooding forest and endless sky, the three days of the festival see it hosting an eclectic array of acts that deliver the classic festival experiences. This year’s line up is a mix of established and emerging who all manage to collide in fascinating ways. Thursday’s opening slot witnesses Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy’s haunting Americana echo through the trees, his sparse, soulful sound captivating a pin-drop quiet audience. Similarly, CMAT’s infectious energy bounces off the same bark on Saturday afternoon (it could have been a headlining set), delivering an athletic and charismatic set with an astonishing, almost note-for-note cover of Kate Bush’s ‘Wuthering Heights’. However, the big stage big moments undeniably belong to Slowdive on Saturday night. Accompanied by a spectacular light show that feels like an extended version of the blackhole scene in Interstellar, their gut-punching shoegaze washes over the crowd in waves, delivering one of those proper ‘hands in the air’ moments.
While the Woods stage focused on providing established acts for the multitudes of old salts pitched out on their lawn chairs and off their picnic blankets, the nearby Folly and Big Top stages committed their time slots to up-and-comers and the next big thing. Across the weekend, both stages managed to feel like consecutive all-dayers at your local DIY venue, serving up a snapshot of the current indie zeitgeist, seeing acts like Gurriers and NewDad take the stage, their performances raw and hungry. Stand out moments included Leed’s rockers The Shits mocking the assembled crowd’s decision to attend the festival by calling them all wankers, seeming one-by-one, and Canadian rockers Wine Lips, who blasted an almost flawless 45 minutes of feel-good garage rock.
Across the lane, everything was a lot weirder. The iconic Garden Stage offered a different magic throughout the festival, its outdoor-opera-like setting lending an air of timeless elegance to performances. Friday saw Lankum closing the stage. With haunting, black harmonies that seemed to rise from the earth itself, their set by turn was exhilarating and laden with doomy dissonance. The following days saw Camera Obscura‘s indie pop ideally at home among the manicured hedges, their melodies floating on the early evening breeze. Later, Richard Hawley served up a goosebump-inducing set, his rich baritone and poignant songwriting serving up an electric end to Saturday’s proceedings.
In stark contrast to all these ‘pop in the park’ vibes, the nearby Boat Stage (a recent, welcome addition to the festival’s programming) felt almost like a secret festival within a festival; a slice of underground culture hidden away in between rhododendrons and willow trees. Here, experimental acts push boundaries and challenge perceptions throughout the weekend, swatting away the outdated presumption that EOTR is strictly a festival of white folk and indie music. Although appearing in a slot that felt bizarrely early for her fetish club shtick, Debby Friday‘s set crackled with almost illicit electricity; her industrial-rap experiments provided one of the highlights of Saturday’s lineup. Similarly, Baltimore outcast Nourished by Time‘s performance embodied the stage’s commitment to sonic exploration, serving up hip-swinging R&B and outsider pop to a crowd of teenage kids and blokes inexplicably dressed as wizards.
This thrill of unexpected moments always makes End of the Road feel special. The promoter’s decision to pepper the running order with the occasional ‘secret set’ weaves an element of surprise into the fabric of the experience and means almost every conversation you have usually involves swapping rumours of who is supposed to be playing where. These unannounced performances could happen anywhere, from the intimate confines of the Folly tent to impromptu gatherings in the woods. This year’s highlights include Julia Jacklin‘s surprise opening of the Garden Stage on her birthday, which provided a surprisingly heartwarming start to the Saturday. Conversely, LA dance punks Sextile’s late-night set at The Folly injected a much-needed jolt of energy just as the pints and relentless heat had started to take a toll.
By deftly balancing new and old, big and small, and the mainstream crowd-pleasers (IDLES were here too, with an army of fans to prove their ticket-selling powers these days) with experimental oddballs means that 2024’s End of the Road was more than the sum of its parts. As always, the festival’s magic lay in the fact that rather than just presenting music like a parade, the curators instead emphasise creating rich, varied contexts for experiencing it. Traversing around each area provided a different lens through which to experience music, challenging you to step out of your comfort zone and explore new sonic territories. This approach isn’t without its quirks, sometimes, with acts occasionally feeling misplaced, their energy at odds with their surroundings. But even these moments add to the festival’s charm, reinforcing the sense that at End of the Road, anything can happen.
