Music PREVIEW SCULPTURE BURNING MUSIC FEST WICKERMAN FESTIVAL Fri 22 Jul–Sat 23 Jul, East Kirkcarswell, south-west Scotland

‘Most people don’t realise that the Wickerman film was the first ever horror musical,’ muses Sid Ambrose, (above) the man behind the Dumfries- shire festival that bears its name. So, alongside The Charlatans, Buzzcocks, Unicorn Kid and Teenage Fanclub, they’re hosting a ‘Sing-a-long-a- Wickerman’ event this year. ‘It’s in the best tradition of musicals,’ he laughs. Ambrose, it’s fair to say, is unrivalled in the wild programming stakes. Amid the rock stages, dance tents and new music arenas of the ninth Wickerman knees-up, you’ll encounter silent ceilidhs (‘You’ve heard of headphones disco it’s such a surreal spectacle this is it with a Wickerman twist’), wood-carving demos (‘That’ll tie in with this year’s werewolf and vampire theme’), grass- sledges (‘These are great, they’re like mini-tanks’) and a synthetic ice rink (‘Folk may want to bring spangly Lycra’).

You’ll also find kids’ zones, hula- hoop workshops, and the iconic centrepiece: the burning of a 40ft Wickerman, in homage to the cult 1973 movie that was shot nearby.

Ambrose’s enthusiasm for the creative

and just bizarre is boundless. Did he ever dream, ten years ago, that Wickerman would become Scotland’s best-loved family festival? ‘Let me tell you about the first year,’ he deadpans. ‘It was me and a group of teenagers. We had no land. No money. We were treated with suspicion by the local authorities. But you know what they say: ignorance is bliss.’ (Nicola Meighan) For info on car shares, buses, an iPhone app and more, go to: www.thewickermanfestival.co.uk.

PREVIEW WARPED POP TORO Y MOI Captain’s Rest, Glasgow, Thu 29 Jul

Almost as enjoyable as the sound of a man tripping out in Yosemite Park at the sight of a double rainbow, (that viral YouTube hit of unbridled ecstasy has been causing no end of delight at The List) is the blissed- out, woozy, warm fuzz of Chaz Bundick’s multi- coloured glo-fi pop, coming to Glasgow this fortnight.

The melted sound of beats left out in the sun, and colourful synths, guitar and vocals blurring into a summery haze were created in 23-year-old Bundick’s bedroom in South Carolina. Like many of his young American musical peers, Ariel Pink, Neon Indian, Memory Tapes, Animal Collective and Washed Out (Washed Out’s Ernest Weatherly Greene is a good

friend, and occasional collaborator of Bundick’s), Toro Y Moi trawls the 70s, 80s and 90s for soft indie riffs and electronic bleeps, then reassembles them into a glowing lump.

Needless to say, the ‘chillwave’ and ‘hypnagogic pop’ labels have attached themselves quickly to him. Although he doesn’t mind being bundled into a genre, particularly one with a name that makes many Brits do a full-body cringe, he prefers to call his music ‘naïve dance music’ after liking the term that Greene came up with. It was Toro Y Moi’s first LP, Causers of This that first created a very justified buzz, with its chiming, bendy summer jams. But for a more lo-fi, simplified version of his music, new single ‘Leave Everywhere’ (out this fortnight on Carpark) should give fans something to swoon to before he puts out album two later this year. (Claire Sawers)

PREVIEW IMPROVISATION DAMO SUZUKI’S NETWORK CCA, Glasgow, Sat 24 Jul; Cabaret Voltaire, Edinburgh, Sun 25 Jul

‘I was with Can for three years,’ says Damo Suzuki simply, ‘and after that, I had many experiences in my life. I don’t like to compare with that time. I was a hippy then, I just liked smoking big joints and making the music happy. But since 30, 40 years I’ve learned many things in my life, and now I must make music in a different way.’ This is all the Japanese singer says on the subject of Can, the iconic and hugely influential Krautrock pioneers from Cologne who he provided vocals for between 1970 and 1973, but his legacy will always be tied up with theirs.

He seems philosophical enough about that, on the phone from his home in the city, but then

Suzuki has had more to concern himself with since then. Quitting music when he met his future wife in 1974, he had cancer diagnosed in 1983 and an operation to remove the growth shortly after. ‘It was a very bad time,’ he says gravely, ‘but the day after it was gone was wonderful. The doctor told my wife I had six, seven years I’ve lived a lot longer since.’ The experience, though, brought him back to music and vice versa. Now he plays with his Network; actually any local musicians who want to invite him to their city and improvise with him, which is a useful system for a self-managed artist. ‘Not so much improvising,’ he says, ‘but creating. We don’t know each other, the audience don’t know us, so we communicate with music, we create an energy of the moment between us.’ Used to be a hippy, you say? (David Pollock)

64 THE LIST 22 Jul–5 Aug 2010