British holiday resorts are terrifying in the winter.

Camber Sands, Sussex, is a grim, grim place in December. Its grey, cold, and marshy. The holiday homes are shuttered up. On a Friday night the fullest bar will host a pitbull terrier or two, a paunchy wreck playing a casio keyboard and a few tattooed baldies in England shirts wheezing 'the way to Amarillo' (and thats just the ladies folks, bad-um tchhh!!!). The cultural hub of camber sands is called pontins, which to those of you who don't know it, is a place that achieves the impossible by being a bleaker version of Butlins.

Pontins in happier times...


Pontins now...

(well as close as I can get...its actually a tower block in Minsk.)

I can hear yis going "WTF? Why is he spouting off about some rancid as-featured-on-ITV1 holiday resort for lairy Brits of the past? Thats not an indie music fix." Well, its cos All Tommorrow's Parties stage some of their three day musical festivals there and I've been twice. Once in December and once in May. Both experiences have been by turns deeply odd, unsettling, uplifting and awesome. Although in fairness, the first time around was mostly just odd and unsettling. We should have known, the clue was in the name "The nightmare before christmas". And nightmare was what we got. Over the course of a lost weekend, spongey carpet, vomit, slot machines, sweaty faces, half cooked chips and a big plastic lizard rotated slowly round in a nauseating internal montage soundtracked by this...

MP3:Wolf Eyes-black vomit

and this...

MP3: Aphex Twin-Tha

Aphex Twin told my friend to fuck off. One of my friends told Aphex Twin to fuck off. And I remember seeing a girl sobbing in terror as a fully robed Sunn O)) unleashed their satanic rumbles on a stage that Bobby Davro probably stood on the week before.
The second time around in summer 2006 (yes I went again, its compelling) was something of an indie-fest, so 'twas nowhere near as terrifying but still bleak due to the never-ending drizzle. However, we saw the Shins, the New Pornographers, Radar Brothers, Lightning Bolt and Destroyer. Afterwards, lying in bed in a wretched ball of post-partying sweat I silently swore I'd never go again. And yet here I am nailing my flag to the mast for the third time cos next year pitchfork are curating (yay!). So expect a mix of venerated oldies (sebadoh) and exciting newbies (los campesinos), and surely some 'bolt? Also expect a confused and frightened contingent of travelling yanks wearing horn-rimmed spectacles. They better pack their own food, cos I don't think the Cap'n Croc chip counter does vegan muffins.
Here's a shiny MP3 from Los Campesinos
MP3: Los Campensinos-We throw parties you throw knives