Photos by Milan Šabić
Part One
Laying on my back sunbathing, looking up at the clear blue sky; a beer in one hand and heavy stoner grooves in my ears; skin drying from the swim I just had in a clear mountain stream. This is one of many wonderful moments from what might well be the best festival I’ve attended; it’s certainly the most unique and the most memorable for several reasons.
Welcome to Bear Stone: a festival that has already achieved legendary status in its third year, for the atmosphere and location just as much as the bands. Below is a summary and introduction, followed by write ups of each day, combining highlights from the POV of both Joe and Emma.
Our home for three days is a glade, lovingly established along the bank of the Mrežnica River, in the Slunj region of central Croatia. Being driven along isolated, country roads and through thick woodland, it certainly feels like undertaking an expedition getting to our accommodation in Slunj itself, as it does on the short, daily journey to the fest site itself – but the regular shuttle buses from Zagreb and Slunj make this journey exciting rather than daunting.
As you travel along the river, onto the main site, you’re greeted with brightly coloured tents, huge statues, wooden huts, and a truly idyllic space of natural beauty, lined with thick woodland and huge rocky outcrops. Bears and other wild animals apparently live in these tree-lined mountains (hence the name). But all we see of them here is the festival logo/mascot – a colourful bear, peering somewhat sternly (concernedly?) over Windsor shades – projected gloriously onto the rocks and tent stages.
At least forty bands play here over three days, on either the Main, Jam, or Mill stage. Friday and Saturday are full days, held across all three; Thursday and Sunday bookend these with slightly lighter days across the Mill and Jam. With no clashes at all, there is no anxiety over option paralysis or FOMO – and the site is so cosy, that nothing is more than five minutes’ walk away anyway.
The crowd is beach goths, heavy hippies, and doom yoga folks. The bands are stoner rock, psych prog, sludge metal, weirdo dance rock. The beers are cold, craft, and local. The vibe is chill, merry, friendly. There’s a buzzing atmosphere all over the site from the early afternoon, right through the night; it’s busy – especially on the Friday and Saturday – but never cramped or overfull.
The Jam Stage – overlooked by the ruins of an abandoned, ancient alien temple (no really) and huge conceptual humanoid statues – feels like the epicentre. As its name suggests, un-rehearsed free-form music is played here at the start of each day, before the scheduled acts start, by musicians taken from a pool of the festival bands. Anything feels possible, and is. It’s the point at which all musicians are levelled, coming together to create something new and genuinely unique. I don’t think I’ve seen something quite like this at a fest before – not so integrated into the programme at least – and it’s one of the most exciting things from the weekend: you might rock up with your morning coffee to find a flute player going hard to doom riffs, or find players already deep into complex proggy grooves while that cool guy from that weird band last night is back in action, going nuts on the synths.
The Mill Stage is a log cabin, open to the elements from the sides, and raised a little to overlook the river and waterfall, providing the most intimate musical experiences of the weekend. As with all three stages, the sound is perfect throughout, even as it leaks out of the open sides. You can easily hear it while chilling on the grass, perusing the merch stands, and swimming in the river.
The Main Stage is big but is still dwarfed by the imposing mountain face to one side. This is where you come for the more internationally renowned bands, with dramatic light shows and trippy projections, as well as a massive sound that ripples all around the site and beyond. “There are no volume restrictions here,” our organiser Marin states proudly when I ask him about the legendarily loud shows of A Place to Bury a Stranger, who are to headline this stage on Saturday. And that certainly proves to be true!
Bear Stone is a liminal zone where only the best values of the outside world still apply. When the sun’s out, it’s beach vibes all day; when it goes down, the trees seem to close in and create a fairy glade where real magic and pleasant madness can occur. Hopefully that capture something of the beauty of the place. Now, let’s get on to the music!
Day One: Thursday
I walk over a small wooden bridge and arrive to the unexpected sound of flute on the jam stage, played at first as you’d expect, horizontal, then turned to resemble a tin whistle as thin mournful sounds wind into the mic. I’m handed a free beer, emblazoned by the festival logo, and it’s time for the laconically named D., over in the Mill cabin, a trio from Zagreb with a wild, gonzo vibe. Generically, we’re super eclectic, balancing pleasantly jazzy noodling breaks with deep-in-the-pocket stoner grooves, and heavy psych freak outs with weird Primus-esque ska interludes.
With D., who knows what will happen next? In this case, the bass player will bust out a red plastic trombone, seemingly from nowhere, for comic and not entirely unmusical effect.
“Cannot shoot, cannot shoot…”
Mix in some unusual time signatures, and some wild At-The-Drive-In-chords from a wonderfully Afro-d vocalist, a break where all three pick up sticks and layer polyrhythms on the same kit, and some radical command of tempo, and D. set a very high standard of musicianship right from the outset. And they look so young. As the bass plays a catchy pull-off riff in an Arabic scale, or drops into some serious funk, our vocalist tells surreal stories about eating fish stew and mushrooms “which are supposed to be consumed …dry”.
Tonight’s headliners Killed a Fox provide a cheeky taster for their set as they soundcheck on the Jam Stage earlier that afternoon, teasing their infectious grunge/stoner tunes.
Umor, also on the Mill Stage, keep it heavy and deep: it’s atmospheric doom, also based relatively locally in Zagreb. A lot of that atmosphere resides in the guitars, with carefully arranged progressions of colourful Hendrix chords and trusty chorus-drenched minors.
“We ask our creator,” sings our frontman, with a yearning like Yob at their most melodic, “and she said okay.”
Killed A Fox
There’s a perfect tension-building drop preceding the heavy climax of the final track, and then we’re all heads down, lost in it, headbang-trance until close.
Italian stoner trio Oreyeon waste none of that momentum, kicking in with familiar and classic sound. We get some tasty Karma-to-Burn-style pull-off boogie riffs that build to super-satisfying Kyuss grooves. “I HATE HUMANS” declares their singer’s t-shirt, but there’s something entirely human about the way we all get stuck in Oreyeon’s warm, sleepy groove. It feels like a largely instrumental set, although an excellent Kyuss cover gets everyone singing along for the finale.
Today’s timetable works to establish what’s on offer, and what’s capable, here at Bear Stone. So Satutros from Poland dig into a set of psych, trance, and stoner that’s genuinely reminiscent of Tool in parts (no mean feat), especially in the higher vocal lines. There’s a particularly great part in ‘Love is the Law’ when they drop to vocals and bass.
“All our songs are about love,” quips their vocalist – and you can’t say fairer than that.
I confess that I wasn’t sure what I thought of the poppier, screamo-tinged choruses of From Another Mother at first – but it quickly became a real standout set. This is indie/prog/math/punk rock that’s constantly shifting style yet retaining its own distinct vibe.
“I’m not sure when to speak in Croatian or English,” their singer wonders whilst tuning his guitar; “so sing along for an Esperanto chorus!” Whilst we all fail to utter a single world that laudable if unpopular tongue, the whole band is full of exuberant energy, with the main guy stealing the show: running around the stage, huge splits-jump, right up on the monitors, peering down at us.
I’m sure eager to give the free CD that From Another Mother gave out to us, after the show, to see if their tunes live up to the fabulous showmanship of this gig.
Portman, a Croatian, post rock/math act, are up next. This is groove loops aka Russian Circles, but with an epic expansive feel more akin to Yawning Man. Starting out as post-rock with keys, and becoming heavier and more riff oriented later, they really open out the sound on the Jam Stage, sustained chords floating up and beyond us…
The Darts, a US all-woman garage rock band, bring us right back down to Earth, giving us something quite different with their short, catchy rockabilly tunes and horror pop stylings. The energy is building up by now, and this feels like a headline set, even if it’s technically the penultimate. Frontwoman Nicole prowls the stage barefooted, conjuring up cartoon goth atmospheres from her Farsifa organ, while Meliza teases sinuous lines from a beautiful Gretsch guitar, apparently given to her especially for the show.
The Darts
“This is a song for people who date people in bands,” quips Nicole: “don’t date us!” The tune that follows – ‘Our Show’ – captures an experience that many here are clearly familiar with.
Later on, The Darts facilitate an innovative “jogging pit” – the world’s most polite trudge around a dusty circular “pit”. “That was sexy,” the band members agree.
Clearly a band adept at engaging the audience, The Darts provide a fabulous, high-energy show, full of charisma and good humour.
If that was all rather light-hearted and fun, Killed a Fox – now in full swing – aren’t pulling any punches: “Free Palestine! Fuck the IDF!” their singer shouts, to a wave of crowd approval, launching into the first of many heavy, chugging polyrhythms ala Meshuggah and Tool. Concluding what has been the first of four perfectly-curated days, this is exactly what we’re all ready for at this stage. We’re ready for smart music that’s super melodic and memorable, combining the best parts of prog, stoner, doom, and grunge.
Killed a Fox know how to please a crowd without compromising their values, teasing a tasty cover of the Terminator 2 theme by Brad Fiedel (duh duh duh, dun dun dun) complete with super-heavy staccato rhythm and octave guitar melodies.
Sandwiched between two covers, I have a note about enjoying the track ‘Left to be Desired’, in particular, although it seems to be unreleased.
I can think of no better way to close the night than with a cover of ‘Lullaby’ by The Cure, which turns that classic of post-punk eeriness into a danceable hard rock anthem, for a sing-along finale…as I start to realize how wonderful it is that – for the last few hours – my phone has been an expensive notebook, nothing more.
Day Two Friday 4th July
Day Two pulls no punches, kicking in with Italy’s brilliantly-named Atomic Mold who provide a no nonsense, bass-heavy stoner/psych rock journey on the Mill Stage. It’s the kind of heaviness that you let wash over you, along with the crystal-clear waters of the lake, moaning melodies tempering the gloopy riffs.
“This is a song about wizards…”
Laying on my back, beer in hand, as the auto-wah guitar-squelch massages my ears, it’s clearly going to be a very good day indeed.
Atomic Mold at the Mill Stage
Possibly quite a strange one, actually, as Zagreb post-proggers Dark Tree Bark from Croatia take to the Jam Stage. These folks like the jerky, off-kilter rhythms of prog and math rock, the post-rock sensibility of near-ambient atmosphere and climax, and the persistent motorik beats of Krautrock. With their analog synthesizers swelling around the riffs, and rather manic approach to the flute, I realize it was probably some of these guys on the Jam Stage on the first day.
[After a relaxing swim, I lie by the river to dry and a butterfly lands on the tip of my index finger, tiny and white with delicate blue dotted markings.]
Things are going to get even weirder. Marcel Godite’s Holy Crab don’t just have a great name: they’re an almost unclassifiable band from Czech Republic who combine folk, prog, rock, Kraut, and Jazz, into a rather jolly sounding mélange of their own oddness. Our frontman, fashionably understated in his office slacks and white t-shirt, is equally confident crooning melancholy ballads and semi-rapping bizarre spoken word narratives as he is going wild on the flute and the baritone saxophone. He’s wonderful to watch, whether his delivery is dryly straight-faced, aggressively intense, or full-on stank face.
As with D. yesterday, there’s a sense that genre is entirely fluid, so it’s okay to go from Pink Floyd moody space synth into Chili Peppers funk-prog.
Bear Stone is wonderfully dog-friendly festival, so it’s common to find a friendly pal frolicking nearby – or even a full bum-sniffing train! – so it seems inevitable that a now-familiar canine friend jumps onto the stage, at the maddest part of the set, receiving great applause.
For all their weirdness, Marcel Godite’s Holy Crab sure know what they’re doing. Their tunes are progressive in the best and most musical sense, with the flute, keys, guitar and bass all locked in tight, creating beautifully dense harmonic bundles. They’re certainly a band I’ll be putting on when I’m back home.
Following a few unpredictable, experimental acts, Wedge – a trio from Berlin – are the perfect choice. They’re immediately welcoming with the warmth and sincerity of their gratitude at getting to play Bear Stone. With a strong vein of classic rock at the centre, these guys bring Kraut and 60’s Garage punk into the mix, delivering melodic rock songs that feels like a set full of re-discovered classics. There’s no harm in knowing what you like and sticking to it; after all, they’re the things the whole crowd likes too.
“FUCK THE IDF!!” shouts the drummer from Poland’s Cisnienie, with every last fibre of his being, in a clear show of support for the trouble Bob Vylan faced at Glastonbury a day or two before. Immediately launching into a post-rock set that can only be described as a beautiful barrage of sound, Cisnienie play one of the most powerful sets I think I’ve ever witnessed. This is not soft, gentle post-rock like Explosions in the Sky; the repetitions are less hypnotic than Godspeed; the contours less detailed than MONO. It’s heavy, ugly, dissonant, aggressive: and no less beautiful for it. With a line-up comprising baritone sax, synth, violin and drums, this is akin to free jazz, serial classical music, and even avant garde extreme metal. Somehow, even the sludge bands who play at Bear Stone this year don’t sound quite this heavy.
Cisnienie
Cisnienie, as it turns out, are heavy enough to make the heavens open. Up until this point, it’s been blazing sunshine from the early hours of the morning to dusk; but gradually we turn away from Cisnienie’s dissonant, droning assemblage long enough to realise that rain is pouring from the tent in bucket loads. As eerie harmonies, from trailing broken bow-strings, creep up the neck of the violin, we all start mentally regretting our lack of waterproofs and reconsidering our plans.
And Cisnienie play on, of course, only increasing the power and depth of their sound. The rain slows down a little as they conclude their set – only to be called back on-stage by one of the most genuine, heart-felt encore pleas I’ve ever heard.
There is a moderate delay to the timetable as the festival’s tech team secure the Main Stage from the rain, with information quickly disseminated across the site on posters and screens. The vibe remains calm, as fortunately do the elements, and before we really notice the ground rumbles once again.
Brandt Bjork is one of the most recognisable faces – and voices – in stoner rock. In conversation with some other fans prior to the show, we agreed that his super-chill demeanour exemplifies the genre and indeed this whole festival. Bjork is a magnetic performer, regardless of which instrument he’s playing and who he’s playing with – but I’m especially pleased to see his trio, with Mario Lalli from Yawning Man and Fatso Jetson on bass, and Mike Amster on drums.
The Main Stage is in full flow by now, and Bjork is given a suitably psychedelic light show, to compliment his jams, which fizzle with colour, texture, and the sizzling desert heat. Bjork keeps cranking out juicy album after juicy album, under a number of names, but I recognise ‘Let the Truth Be Known’ from 2013, several tracks from the recent Once Upon A Time In The Desert, and some classics from Jalamanta that keep everyone singing. It’s difficult to add much to the reams of words that have been written about Bjork and co., suffice to say that I watched the whole show with a child-like grin of pleasure, boogying along to the grooves, and generally having a very good time indeed.
I’ll admit that I’ve never truly understood the hype around Monolord, seeing them now for the third time: I think it’s Thomas Jäger’s voice that doesn’t do a lot for me. But there can be no doubt they are perfectly chosen as the penultimate band on this bill, and that they were very heavy indeed. Speaking to other festival goers, so many chose Monolord as a stand-out set, so, hey, what do I know?
There is a place on the site near to one of the bridges where one can gain stunning views out over the widest parts of the river, especially during the evening when the gentle light of the gloaming hours dances in hues of tangerine and peach across the rippling waters. That’s where I heard most of Monolord’s set, the ripples of their colossal sound mirroring those on the river’s skein.
Monolord
As the final note of the Main Stage rings out, the first beat of Croatia’s live rave squad ABOP begins. ABOP is the acronym for a Croatian phrase which translates as ‘the After is Better than the Party’, and it takes these guys the duration of that single first beat to live up to that promise.
ABOP immediately transform the humble Jam Stage – which we are used to seeing in full sunshine – into a woodland club, to which the hoards flock. Henceforth it’s party party party, beats, drops, breaks, until the small hours.
“Golden fire…golden fire…golden fire…a flash of golden fire”
With two synth/keys players and a bass player, grouped around two drummers sharing a kit (one chain smoking throughout), and no DJ in sight, these guys fill the stage, bopping with an energy that does not relent at all for the next hour. This is synth rock, techno and house at its finest and tightest, and – as with the other acts who play these post-Main Stage slots at Bear Stone – ABOP provide some of the best live dance music I’ve ever seen.
