Live review: Boia Festival St Davids, Pembrokeshire 25 – 27 October 2024

Kathryn Joseph. Pic by Oliver Gray

Back in 2022, when Boia festival was still known as Cwtch, the band of the weekend for me was Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard. They are still very youthful and prone to extended feedback exploitation and Freebird-style twin guitar twiddling. Listen, I LIKE Freebird-style twiddling if it’s done well. I still love them and they kick-started the festival in style as the most convincing Welsh noisesters since Future Of The Left.

Buzzard-Buzzard-Buzzard. Pic by Oliver Gray

The schedule had already gone astray as I pitched up for Seamus Fogarty at the Bishops pub, only to find he’d already played. Chloe Foy was a delight though. Introspective singer-songwriters and busy pubs don’t usually mix but not at Boia, where everyone pays attention. Even more studious were the pew occupiers of the sepulchral Tabernacle Chapel, where Kathryn Joseph’s frighteningly gloomy songs contrasted with her hilarious expletive-laden intros. The vibe was fascinating, mildly shocking but quite gripping. I hope the priest wasn’t around. Minutes later, Kathryn was to be spied grooving along with the rest of us to the B52s / Talking Heads-style pop sounds of New York’s Bodega. On the last night of a two-month tour and with an image combining Jamiroquai with Duran Duran, they were in celebratory virtuoso mode and the crowd participated wildly.

Bodega. Pic by Oliver Gray

A sunny Saturday at Boia allows time to wander calmly from show to show at venues such as the Farmers Arms (traditional pub) and Grain (alternative pizzeria) while a range of mainly quiet and ethereal acts (Accu, Iona Zajac, Sara Wolff, Kathryn Joseph) waft their soothing tones over you. Yes, Kathryn Joseph again. She played four shows and I went to all of them. What a voice, what subject matter, what delivery – pure genius. Following her in Grain was the inimitable Seamus Fogarty, on top form accompanied by his brother on various instruments.

Seamus Fogarty. Pic by Oliver Gray

Popping in to a pub for an unknown name often pays dividends here. Cubzoa from Brighton, despite his wife-beater vest, was pleasingly Sparklehorsey, which can never be bad. In the Tabernacle, Pictish Trail was being distinctly unpresbyterian with his infectious sing-alongs. A very long way from the Isle of Eigg, his stand-up comedy routine added to the spice. Declaiming ‘The Bear With Heart Eyes’ from the pulpit before embarking on some hazardous pew surfing caused minor mayhem. Erm, I still hope the priest wasn’t around. After all the cheerfully wilful obscurity of the day, The Zutons and their unashamed commerciality came as almost a shock. What could you do? Lose yourself in the funky anthems and the cheeky slipping-in of a cover of ‘Back To Black’.

The Zutons. Pic by Oliver Gray

One advantage of this sort of event is the chance for repeated views of favourite acts. Thus I spent Sunday afternoon with Pictish Trail (yes, I know), Seamus Fogarty (yes, I know) and Kathryn Joseph (yes, I know). Playing a chapel one moment and a pub the next really challenges an artist’s adaptability.

In the evening, the heavens opened as they only can in Pembrokeshire and moving between venues became more challenging. Never mind, the City Hall and the Tabernacle offered shelter from the storm with a triple sequence of quality headliners. Rozi Plain (of This Is The Kit) presented her own quirky melodies and inventive backings, oddly enough also featuring twin lead guitar, but in a very different way. An impromptu gymnastics display on the dance floor added extra fun. The Lost Brothers’ Oisin Leech, fresh from wowing the Union Chapel the night before, was playing his first Welsh headline gig. He’s not the first person to base a song on the shipping forecast, but it’s a good one. The weekend reached its climax with organiser Steve Prior’s emotional valedictory speech and some stimulating sounds from veteran Newcastle prog-infused (2 drummers!) Lanterns On The Lake.

I’m going to end with a minor rant on the currently hot topic of the inverted pyramid of the music industry. While the plutocrats of Spotify and Live Nation count their millions, the real creatives (of whom many were showcasing here) scratch around for the crumbs, begging us politely to make their lives viable by buying their tea towels, mugs and tote bags. This fantastic event can only happen because the altruistic people who plan it, run it and organise it are volunteers – yes, they do it for love, not money. Maybe that’s part of what makes it so laid back, sociable and friendly. All we can say is thank you, and please never stop.

 

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