When former builder Simon Taffe set about launching End of the Road festival in 2006 off a drunken whim, he had no idea if it would last. It took selling his own home and even convincing a friend to remortgage his house, but in the end he just about brought the first weekend over the line.
Nineteen years later, EOTR has grown to be a comfortable rival to the likes of fellow alt music champion Green Man – despite the Welsh festival being around double the size. EOTR will appeal to people who like smaller crowds, or who get lost frequently (or, conversely, those who want less Welsh nationalism). Set across four main music stages - The Woods, The Boat, The Folly and Garden Stage - each provide a unique setting, never becoming too packed and each just a ten-or-so minute stroll away from each other.
This manageable and welcoming atmosphere means every year those in the know wind their way to the Wiltshire-Dorset border before September sucks us back into the pit. Festivalgoers can float around the site of Larmer Tree Gardens during these last days of Eden for four days of music, games, and talks, with help from the enchanting installations that crisscross the woods, to fairgame rides on the lawns and a stately home hosting life drawing sessions and the like.
Despite its size now hovering around the 15,000 mark – EOTR’s defining personal touches remain. Taffe’s own playlists fill the air between sets and regulars know all about his infamous two-hour DJ set on the Saturday night. You’ll often hear festivalgoers talk about “Simon” as if he’s an old mate – and in a festival industry dominated by commercial endeavours, where independent ventures are increasingly closing (over 78 have shut down in the UK over the last year alone), this is especially endearing and vital.
Taffe’s fingerprints are all over the excellent curation of EOTR’s programme. This year, revellers were treated to a typically eclectic line up of headliners – Sharon Von Atten and the Attachment Theory, Caribou, Self Esteem and Father John Misty who reigned supreme with a quasi-religious service of a headline set. Other highlights included the weird, cosmic sound of These New Puritans with their harp-plucking, pulsating tunes - including a love story between two cranes (the metallic kind) - to the confident Japanese electronic trumpeter and producer Takuya Nakamura got fans dancing and smiling, ending with the briefest, most unexpected ode to the UK jungle scene.
Elsewhere we were treated to Matt Berninger of The National, Windmill veterans Sorry, Squid and Black Country, New Road’s metaphorical sons The Orchestra (For Now), Sweden’s Viagra Boys who put on an infectiously good show and a 1am surprise set from none other than WU LYF, the cult band who got back together this year having inexplicably never played a set in the UK prior since their debut album in 2011.
John Maus, a pogoing head-hurling electronic artist with a PhD in political science who allegedly stormed the Capitol, mysteriously appeared as both a secret set and a Big Top headliner, despite the controversy surrounding his democracy-defying antics. But his politics and onstage headmovements certainly gave festivalgoers something to talk about (including concern for his sense of balance).
Aside from the music, EOTR is home of the most charming festival infrastructure and design decorating the woods and lawns of Wiltshire’s Larmer Tree Gardens. In the woods, lights and ribbons stud paths which feature interactive games such as a comically long marble run, a print making workshop with a wall for the greats, and – new this year – an astronauts' caravan rotating like a rotisserie chicken, occasionally spitting out confused festivalgoers dressed in helmets and spacesuits.
Quirky activities like a supine listen-in to Big Thief’s latest album, spoon-carving workshops and a dark booth where CMAT had recorded a song specifically for the festival, which you could only listen to if you handed over your phone first, created additional dashes of magic.
Critics of End of the Road festival might moan that it is stuffed with boring indie boy bands. But despite its origins championing Americana, nowadays that’s far from the whole picture. EOTR’s strength in fact lies in its diversity. On one stage there’ll be dance rockers Adult DVD but on the next you’ll find Aunty Rayzor, a fluid Nigerian rapper on her first trip to the UK, getting the audience twerking – and on another you’ll find Blawan, a former maggot farmer turned industrial techno artist Blawan getting the crowd stomping as if we were partaking in mass vermicomposting (which comes with a similar effect on the feet).
This year felt particularly strong for electronic music – not only did Caribou headline on Friday (admittedly to a relatively tame crowd), but his alter ego DJ Daphni took to the decks for a totally epic two-hour secret set lasting well into the early hours of Sunday morning – a genuine coup of a get for EOTR. To stumble out of Syrian dabke composer Rizan Said at 2am into the Boat and slowly recognise Dan Snaith was genuinely exhilarating. Elsewhere dance lovers could jive to the legendary lineup of Joy Orbison followed by Erol Alkan on the Friday night spinning the crowd from dubstep and jungle to disco, techno, Kylie and much more. Experimental cult outfit Mount Kimbie warmed the stage up for Self Esteem.
The crowd is always packed with a mixed set of hardcore music lovers - by the toilets I encountered a grown man in streams of tears staggering out of a set by For Those I Love . The buffet of music on offer makes going as a group a wonderful chance to take it in turns introducing each other to a new artist. In this case, the wet-eyed Irish man told me all about the tragic backstory of the Dublin-based producer and songwriter David Balfe known as For Those I Love, whom I’d previously only heard remixed by Overmono.
Smaller artists are often heartwarmingly pleased to be booked. This year Greg Freeman, whose 2022 debut album featured “sparse, tundra-like songs” flew over from the US. He told the audience he couldn’t afford to fly his band over so he had assembled a group of musicians from artists who were already at the festival - you couldn’t make it up.
The skies hurled down and the wind deformed even the sturdiest of tents – but festivalgoers couldn’t be defeated. The wettest weekend in eight years, but even on the Sunday most of us were still standing when the clouds cleared for the final time. You know it’s a damn good festival when even the elements can’t destroy the fun.
