Southsea Fest a great chance to see bands in an intimate & relaxed environment

The perpetual success of the Camden Crawl and the Great Escape have helped put South East England at the forefront of the multi-venue music festival scene. But for those wanting a more relaxed and less commercial experience only need to travel an hour further west to find the under-rated gem that is Southsea Fest. Costing a fraction of the price of its noisier neighbours and tucked away from the frivolity of the coastline, it is definitely a festival for true music fans. This year was its fifth anniversary, and over 100 bands descended on the usually unglamorous Albert Road intent on making a lasting impression.

The long walk from Fratton train station to the wristband exchange in The Wine Vaults was eerily quiet and it was difficult to believe that a gig was taking place, let alone a festival. It was as if the community was still mourning the downfall of its football team. But after passing the specially baked festival cakes just footsteps into the venue, any premonitions of a funeral atmosphere were quickly dispelled.

After picking up the free festival programme and complimentary sticker it was time to head towards The Globe Inn to watch Berkshire-based solo-artist Stephen Long. Despite being given a warm reception, the crowd kept their distance from the stage, adding a sense of irony to his T-shirt of an upset cactus above the suggestion 'Hugz?' But the appreciative banter and an instant rapport with one overly-enthusiastic female fan, created a magnetic feel to his personality that shone emotionally rather than physically. The camp-rock style folk-songs were also well received and comical lyrics like "if I am akin to the crumbs left in the biscuit tin, then you are a jammy dodger darling" left every audience member smiling come the end of the set.

Albert Road is peculiar in the sense that it has the feel of a street for the local community but has an array of pubs, cafés and venues nonchalantly stood along the way. The most notorious of which is the Wedgewood Rooms, and the majority of the Stephen Long crowd headed to its backroom – The Edge of the Wedge – for the next band.

As Portsmouth is home to the world's finest vessels so it was only appropriate that a watercraft related act was put on the bill in the form of Brighton band Jumping Ships. Balanced on the stage under the sunlight sneaking through the blinds beside them, the four-piece played a set that was more HMS Victory than rubber dinghy. The blend of melodic indie sensibilities with a raging punk under-current and the frantic on-stage movements made for an exciting set. The primitive chants of "I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth" at the start of the track amazingly titled 'The Truth' and the radio-friendly 'The Good Outweighed The Bad' were promising indications of a band that could hit the mainstream yet keep a sense of edginess.

The next stop was the One-Eyed Dog, one of the few venues not actually situated on Albert Road, to catch West Country punks Caves. The female-fronted band are gaining a burgeoning reputation in their genre and will be playing Fest in Florida next month. Consequently, the music area of the three room pub was bulging to capacity. Sadly the late finish to the Jumping Ships set coupled with a lengthy walk meant there was only time to catch one song, 'Torn Down'. The croaky vocals, three-chord arrangements and cried of 'Whoa-a-o' might have been clichéd but there was enough energy and testosterone to render any musical shortcomings completely irrelevant. As the crowd filtered their way out to look at the punk-rock flea-market, there was a chance to see local band Aeroplane Attack. Unlike Caves, this band had real talent, playing a heavy instrumental set reminiscent of 65daysofstatic. Amongst the cauldron of noise was a real sense of pride in playing their home-town festival and band members took photographs throughout.

Once the Aeroplane Attack set finished, there was an opportunity to look around the punk-rock flea market, where prices for goods such as T-shirts were negotiable rather than fixed. There was also a chance to walk back to Albert Road to check out the merchandise store, set up in a small store with an open mic stage in the background. After a quick visit to one of the mainstream pubs not included in the festival, it was time to head towards the Wedgewood Rooms to see Bear Cavalry. The Gosport band have a name that sounds like a bearded American-indie band but sadly the play the kind of music perfect for an interlude during an episode of Skins or The Inbetweeners. The pitter-patter chord arrangements, sporadic changeovers between keyboard and string instruments and falsetto vocals, scream of the indie bands that spawned and died in 2006. In spite of this, there was favourable reaction from the crowd, with many ripping their shoes from the sticky floors with each dance step. Fortunately there was a high-raised window-sill towards the back to witness the audience participation while escaping the adhesive surface below.

As the night drew on there were rumours of one-in, one-out policies happening in other venues, so it was time to return to The Edge of the Wedge to see out the festival. Curated by the increasingly popular Big Scary Monsters and Alcopop Records, there was a chance to see a selection of the country's most under-rated young acts. Stagecoach were up next, with their songs about Jonah Lomu and singles released in pizza boxes. The Londoners play a curious mix of fast and melodic riffs, grungy strums, twee-vocals and emo-screams, none more-so than in closing track 'Not Even Giles Would Say We'll Be Ok'. There was definitely a division in the crowd of those immersed in this form of grunge-pop and others looking lost. But anyone on the cusp of yawning were given sporadic wake-up calls by one head-band wearing band-member continually diving into the pit.

As Stagecoach left, they gave a firm a seal of approval for the next act, calling them one of the best new bands in the country. They were not wrong. Despite boasting musicians that look young enough to do your paper-round, Talons play the kind of provoking music that proves the British-indie scene is not full of regurgitated tripe. Four band members, including the fiddlers, stayed on stage as the two guitarists played the entire set face-to-face in the moshpit. The beautiful and dark string arrangements and the full-blooded beastly riffs made for a furiously energetic set. From the violin plucking at the beginning of 'Iris' to the haunting 'Commiserations Buff Orpington' it was a full-on experience with most fans head-banging while avoiding the guitar necks flinging towards their faces. It was a savage and intense set undoubtedly a chasm from their Herefordshire upbringing.

Next up were The Xcerts who seem to be everywhere at the moment. Fresh from tours with Taking Back Sunday and Young Guns, the trio are set to be on the road again, supporting American-indie giants Manchester Orchestra. But it is these small surroundings where the Scottish band have gained a cult-following and a hardcore contingent formulated in the pit for the set. 'Slackerpop' and the explosive 'Scatterbrain' sent the congregation in the pit into a frenzy leading to one excited fan pleading for a cover version of 'Drinking In LA'. This request was turned down in favour of anthemic sing-a-long 'Aberdeen 1987'. The Xcerts were playing Southsea Fest for their third successive year and if the crowd reaction was as raucous as before, it is hardly surprising why they keep returning. There were a few sound problems throughout the set but they merely ruffled a few feathers. At the end, floppy-haired frontman Murray Macleod merely mentioned the word "crowd-surfing" leading to an almighty scramble to climb up friend's shoulders and a sweaty end to a typically exciting performance.

The final act on at the Edge of the Wedge were Johnny Foreigner. The Birmingham trio so nearly never made it to the South Coast after inadvertently crashing their vehicle into a bird. But despite the wreckage, the band continued to the festival, and after a several more technical difficulties they began an electrifying set. Their brand of 'twee-punk' is the equivalent of Los Campesinos spinning violently in a blender, which is very much an acquired taste. Many ticket-holders had left to catch last trains or stock up on food for the upcoming club night, but the legion of fans who remained were treated to songs such as 'Feels Like Summer' and all the issues that threatened to ruin the end of the festival proved to be a minor blip.

Many of the bands who were invited to Southsea Fest had played there before. Each venue was curated by a different company and there was a sense that every band enjoyed playing there. It was also a great chance to see so many independent bands in an intimate and relaxed environment. The right amount of tickets were sold striking a healthy balance between a lively but relaxing atmosphere. The only downside was that there was no real sign of a festival happening until entering each venue, but this could also be considered charming and proof why so many bands and fans mark down Southsea Fest in their calendars for the year.

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