Portals Festival 2023 is like a “mini” ArcTanGent – rock and metal music for nerds, celebrating the genres of math and post rock, plus other experimental sounds. Except this year, it was not so mini, as it took over the double venue EartH in Hackney, including an extra small stage at the mid-level bar. I attended and thoroughly exhausted myself, and this is my write up of the many bands I saw on day one. Select images provided by Fish Outta Water Media (website/Instagram) and used with permission.
Ogives big band, theatre stage
The EartH Theatre stage was a real treat for the bands that played it; most of them are used to cosy venues, so a 680 capacity seated room was more like a cathedral. Ogives Big Band were the first act of the weekend to fill this space. They played their blend of sludge prog to an already decently sized audience, despite their set wrapping before 2pm. They kept the tones simple, barely needing to touch a pedal to produce thorough dynamic range. Their complexity came instead from twisty-turny compositions and their flagrant disregard for normal rock structures. The conversational semi-harsh vocals from Steve Roberts could reach stratospheric heights. Amidst these oddities, Oli Cocup’s drumwork was a grounding force, particularly on the new tom-groovy track (possibly named “Brandishment”, if I heard correctly). As long as you can get into their vocal style, the band are easy to recommend, but don’t smoothly compare to other artists: perhaps it could be called “math rock Mastodon”. The huge theatre space worked well for them, and hopefully I’ll get to see them in a combative pub environment some day too. During audience chat, they teased a new album coming some time this year.
Hundred Year Old Man, main stage
All the Portals main stage acts were treated to a huge room without clashes. Hundred Year Old Man were even luckier as the first band taking this stage. This clearly gave them plentiful set up time to clinch an immaculate sound, faithful to their 2022 record Sleep In Light. A truly “post metal” band, they played slow, frigid epics to a crowd of mournful headbangers. In the heaviest moments, vocalist David Ashley Duxbury sang in harsh duet with Mark Howes (on keys). They kept it heavy, using their interludes as moments to tune-up, rather than trying to make them moments of great focus (a safe decision). The band played without front lights, which in this rare case, worked out: they were bleak silhouettes against white beams from behind, including ground lights the band brought on themselves. The two UK bands I would compare them to are both long defunct: Fall of Efrafa and Light Bearer, so it’s good that the classic post metal formula is still being practised on these shores. They’re clearly ready for their next appearance as the slowest and heaviest band at TechFest 2023.
Astrosaur, theatre stage
Norwegian band Astrosaur play instrumental metal with ‘that’ unbound, fuzzed out sound, like a doom metal band really did go to another planet. The boomy theatre hall sapped a bit of their tightness and speed-licks, but this faded once I got my ear on their groove. They were best in the more dynamic moments, such as their second movement, where both guitar and bass chased their own swelling delays toward a soaring finish. They did a good job, and although it was not the most memorable performance of the day, that’s not really their fault given now stacked it was.
Bicurious, main stage
Similarities with And So I Watch You From Afar, Battles, and Adebisi Shank swarm my recollections of Bicurious’ studio material. I had high hopes for a solid live performance – but the instrumental two piece from Dublin were the first band to completely blow my expectations away. I didn’t realise the importance of their duo-dynamic, the delightful stage banter loose songs, and the sheer infectious fun of the beats and riffs. The guitarist took confident command of his looper pedal. If you’ve ever tried looping yourself, you’ll know how easy it is to mess up an input and enter awkward sonic territory (not at all like an instrument, where muscle memory and feedback keep you aligned). This made the stage theatrics even more fun, as he bopped all over the stage and encouraged audience participation levels unknown to 3pm audiences. Both members even joined the audience at the end, to bask in the glow of tight loops. Do not pass up the opportunity to see Bicurious live.
Axes, theatre stage
It took a few hours to get the first “beyond math” rock band. Axes play a euphoric mix of increasingly cheeky riffs, pulling structures and time signatures from a Markov chain. Their performances are becoming somewhat a rarity – besides ArcTanGent and Portals, they’ve played relatively few shows, and haven’t released anything significant since 2014. This made the show even more precious. Axes‘ records have helped define the math rock sound, particularly ‘that’ hyper chimey guitar sound which they brought in spades. They had great stage presence made their mind-bendy music seem effortless. Brief tech issue intermissions were led by the bassist, and when the following song went off without a hitch, the guitarist stamped out the last pedal switch with a “yes!”. The slow down ending of “Your Three” and jostling during “Fleetwood Math” were hilarious moments. It’s no surprise that they were the first theatre band to bring the audience to their feet at the foot of the stage. You can’t quite headbang to it, but Axes still make you grin like the teacher’s pet that got full marks on their homework.
I didn’t catch all of it, but the following theatre performance was Human Pyramids, a project led by Axes guitarist Paul Russell: the meeting point between a community choir, chamber orchestra, and math rock band. Twenty six performers took a bow at the end of a set full of warm spirited, gentle post rock. Seeing the Axes members take the stage a second time to play something more accessible and communal underlined their contributions to the community.
68, main stage
I roughly knew ‘68 would be a two piece that played blues flavoured noise rock; The White Stripes amplified through a jet engine. What unfolded made their records seem tame. Both members strutted out in suits: guitarist and southern dandy Josh Scogin surrounded himself with pedals and loopers, and drummer Nikko Yamada sat at the spartan four piece kit. Despite the massive stage, their kit was arranged so they’d face one another directly. You’ve heard of ‘in the round’, this is ‘in the fuck you’. Their songs were short and sweet, all lengthy parts given over to drum fills and rudely loud guitar interludes. ‘68 were as funny as they were musical: joking that “we don’t care who you look at the most”, dedicating their songs to “every other audience member”, and not to mention the inherent ridiculousness of their approach to rock. The setlist seemed loose, as they played a new song “just to get it out of the way”, and probably whiled away most of their allocated time on looper-feedback and made up songs. They even slipped a quick Beastie Boys cover in (“Intergalactic”). The set ended with a gradual drumkit deconstruction over a particularly filthy loop. During stage exit, a fellow hardcore historian in the crowd stepped forward to congratulate guitarist Scogin for his contributions to the genre as the singer of mathcore gem The Chariot – important context I was missing. A ridiculously fun, creative, and indulgent set. I could imagine that, if you didn’t feel ‘in’ on the joke, ‘68’s antics might have been tiresome, but the joke was ‘rock and roll’ itself.
El Moono, bar
EartH’s bar was the intimate space at Portals, a stage-meets-thoroughfare that attendees would pass through on the way to the theatre stage. It was the sort of space that became crowded quickly, where smaller bands played to a thronging room. El Moono were the first band I took the time to see, a Brighton based metal project whose music was as chaotic as their dress code. A lazy summary of the band might be “doom-slowed Dillinger Escape Plan”, right down Zac Jackson’s vocals which capture Greg Puciato’s full range. Metalcore style breakdowns closed out the songs, and by the end of the set they mustered their deserved mosh. Their EP Temple Corrupted has plenty of atmospheric moments that could easily miss the mark in a busy room such as this, but they landed, including on a new track that felt particularly ‘Deftones‘. A band I’ll have to see again, hopefully in a room with a fully raised (but un-barriered) stage.
Bo Ningen, main
People say bands “don’t fit into any genre” far too often, but Bo Ningen certainly fit in many. They do shoegaze that grooves, with the reckless abandon of noise rock, and the loosey-goosey feel good vibes of a jam band. The textures were overwhelming and indulgent as guitars became theremins and synth arps echoed. Bassist/singer Taigen Kawabe was enigmatic and animated throughout. He donned a hood and slipped into 90s hip hop for a segment – not so surprising as it turns out he has an entire hip hop side project as Ill Japnoia. The vocals could also become dramatically charged, channelling Melt Banana for an explosive moment; then the band would respond by dropping into a gentler groove. As usual for shoegaze, deciding on a “good” live mix is open warfare, but the main stage sound desk did a good job. Bo Ningen were a palette cleansing exception to the day’s music, and were particularly delighted to be playing to their own hometown.
Lakes, bar stage
Back at the bar stage, Lakes were providing one of the gentler sets with their blend of indie-emo-math rock. Modern emo is a genre full of pity-me heartwrenchers over glittery guitar; Lakes provide a happy counterpoint without holding back from the mathy complexity. This large band had to spill out behind the stage, thus many listeners probably didn’t realise there were three guitarists. Each guitar played unique lines that were straightforward and plush, where dynamics came through the playing and not the pedals. The duetting singers brought vocal variety that was unmatched at Portals, and the drums knew when to bite to seal the end of the songs. An appearance from “Trumpet Tom” was a genial in-joke that added an extra spark. The band explained that, following two days of shows before this, a bus breakdown had them up until four in the morning. Naturally, a song was dedicated to the mechanic who got them moving again. Behind the scenes the band are currently buzzing to be support the midwest emo titans American Football in Brighton later this year. Lakes are a band who should have mass appeal, given their gentle composure, catchy qualities, and intricate details; it’s math rock you can show your mum.
Bossk, main stage
Bossk’s EPs .1 and .2 where a key part of the post metal 00s canon. If you researched what to hear next after the likes of Cult of Luna or Neurosis, one of the next names would absolutely have been Bossk. In their reunion years, they’ve shifted a bit toward “metal” rather than “post”, becoming even heavier and adding vocals to their lineup. Next to doom bands, Bossk will look like prog indulgers, but their goals are the same: find a big fat riff and smoke it to perfection. Copious feedback, sledgehammer chords, and the cold embrace of feedback made for the loudest set of Portals so far. Tense passages with tom grooves and driving bass invoked the memory of the band ISIS. The singer brought the necessary heft and regularly popped backstage, which will have confused first time listeners, but was better than highlighting just how lengthy their instrumentals were. An example would be “Kobe” from their reunion album Audio Noir, which started out as any other instrumental post rock song might: delayed riffing with a gradually increasing intensity, eventually crunching down into a spectacularly heavy ending with the vocalist in tow. Bossk’s set felt short for their epic proportions, but they’ve eclipsed the hype of their early days and found renewed identity.
A Burial At Sea, bar
My biggest studio discovery in the lead up to Portals ‘23 was A Burial At Sea. I can’t say enough kind words about their 2020 self titled record, which for me ranks among the best instrumental post/math rock albums – including all those brilliant ones in the naughties. Needless to say I was excited for their small stage set, which was another date on their UK tour with And So I Watch You From Afar. Although they aren’t yet a post-household name, their spangly riffage and heartfelt trumpet toots were a hit with the whole audience. The trajectories of their songs felt immediately familiar, and if the band took an angular “math” moment, where timings were chopped and screwed, it happened at a slow tempo that you could actually appreciate. They don’t overuse their trumpet player, instead using it almost as a vocal part: it comes front and centre for the biggest moments and the most effective hooks. They even played a new track that oozed with tension until the noodly riff dropped. The busy bar environment meant that the mic-free gang vocal moment on “Lightning Blanket” only worked for the viewers near the front, but the following crescendo with its tappy guitar ending still absolutely ripped. A Burial At Sea have cracked the many challenges an instrumental band face: their compositions are really memorable, carefully balancing gratifying atmospherics and rock sensibility. I hope their 2023 tour, including appearances like Portals, will give them the audience they deserve.
And So I Watch You From Afar, main stage
I don’t have any notes-app comments from And So I Watch You From Afar’s set to help me with this report; I was in the pit. So this all comes from the bottom of my heart. ASIWYFA are certainly responsible for much of the music going on at Portals, the defining instrumental band with a bit of ‘post’, a lot of ‘math’, but even more ‘rock’. They play almost exclusively upbeat songs that made for a jubilant atmosphere at the main stage. Two new songs featured plenty of stop-start moments, crafted specifically to confuse the slammers. It’s a slight shame that only one song from Jettison made it to the setlist (“VIII Jettison”), though its bonus ending from “Redesigned a Million Times” felt spontaneous and cheeky. ASIWYFA don’t have to do anything to win me over; if you’ve not heard them you’ve got some history to explore.
Straight Girl, bar
I was a bit delirious following ASIWYFA’s bombast, and the day was getting long, but I’d been strongly recommended Straight Girl by some much more hardcore folks than I. An electro-punk performance overlapping with (the temptingly seated) Nordic Giants resulted in a small crowd, but Straight Girl’s presence was important on the bill as an artist really pushing the envelope. Clearly, many people are saying this, as they’re also performing at 2000 Trees and Arctangent. Straight Girl performed a one-person electronic set that filled the room with driving bass and bewitching vocals. As the sonics entered obnoxious hyperpop territory, I finally heard some sounds at Portals that actually challenged me. The room relished in the bassy discomfort you’ll hear on singles like “Look At Me” – produced live, this was supercharged. The kinetics of the electronic performance felt about right: when Straight Girl took the wheel of the mixer to tweak the sound, it had meaningful impact, and focused vocal performances and distinct songs were preserved through automation. A detail that tickled me was that their bass-pumping Macbook was set upon an Ikea Kallax, the default vinyl storage choice for so many; somehow this was a more hardcore podium than a proper DJ desk. Although their crutches made the performance memorable, it wasn’t meant to be part of the act, as circumstances meant Straight Girl couldn’t not-perform. You can do your pride month-bit and help a queer out here, or here.
I did catch a song or two by Big Lad, but I was almost collapsing from 11 hours of music, so I will have to catch them another time. Overall, Portals ’23 day one was fantastic, and the festival wasn’t over yet.