The latest, greatest psych-rock band to come out of Australia. What is it with this country and it’s never-ending production line of mind-bending rock ‘n’ roll?
Post-set buzz: is this Tame Impala? Pffft. Music for daytrippers.
Their Best song: The whole set feels like a single, very long, very weird song, but if we had to pick a highlight it would probably be Hot Water, if only for frontman Stu Mackenzie’s jazz flute exertions. Frankly, they look like last night’s high hasn’t worn off yet. Which is exactly as it should be.
The crowd is pretty respectable, especially given the time of day, but there’s a significant drop-off from Pussy Riot’s in-conversation appearance just before them. In twelve months’ time, If all goes well, you imagine a reasonably prominent slot on the John Peel tent is within their grasp. But the Park stage – located way out on the fringes and populated with people who look like they’ve been doing the same drugs as them – feels like this band’s spiritual home.
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The Fat Angel Sings 