I just saw a very cool movie, one that anyone with an interest in music, music festivals, or even the more broadly philosophical topics of artistic expression and human connectivity should see. It’s called All Tomorrow’s Parties, released in 2009. The film is a documentary about the English festival of the same name, and ends up producing one of the most artistically satisfying time capsules I’ve seen.

All Tomorrow’s Parties (the festival) was conceived by Belle & Sebastian, who had the idea to curate their own festival, one made up of their influences as well as favorite up and coming acts. It would be staged at one of several old English holiday camp. Holiday camps are essentially family friendly, low budget resorts which middle class English families would vacation to for a week or weekend in the spring and summer, usually by the beach. Most are not used as much (if at all) compared to their heyday in the early to mid-twentieth century, so are perfect as an already constructed and relatively sound venue. Each subsequent year, a new band/artist is chosen as the “curator” to personally create the lineup, then essentially act as the headliner as everyone else enjoys the weekend. Named after the Velvet Underground song, the festival’s location moves through a rotating set of holiday camps each year. On top of that, the performers and organizers live on site with the attendees. I’m sure attendees felt a certain hopeful sparkle over possibly running into a rock star. Some past curators are Mogwai, Sonic Youth, Portishead, and The Dirty Three.

All Tomorrow’s Parties (the film) is assembled from video footage taken at different editions of the festival ranging from 1999 through 2009. As such, it is shot “with multiple formats including Super8, camcorder and mobile phone” by attending fans, performers, and on site professionals (according to Wikipedia). Taken together, the doc is a thrilling summation of the uniqueness of the festival and the power of the music therein performed.

Going into it, I expected a more straight up, cinema verite look at the goings on. Fortunately, the filmmakers were not so boring. They artfully edited all submitted picture together with vintage shots and different minor sound/video effects to create an impressionistic and emotional experience, akin to glancing through memories of a fan, with each scene a flash.

Impressions? Utterly fantastic. Between revealing the random occurrences around the camp as well as highlighting notable performances, the filmmakers relate a real sense of the fun and variety of a good festival. All Tomorrow’s Parties has acquired a reputation for the indie and experimental, as well as more traditional rock that emphasizes atmosphere and intimacy. This is born out in the documentary. Watch this one with good sound, because you don’t want to miss the layers of noise that pick you up and pull you through this film. Besides strong selections form the aforementioned curators, we are also treated to Animal Collective, a gratifyingly heavy Iggy & The Stooges, Patti Smith, and a surprising Grinderman, fronted by Nick Cave. (In fact, although I’ve never really listened to Cave’s oeuvre, his performance here is so gripping that I’ve felt compelled to start checking him out.)

However it’s the less known acts that really steal the show here. Some artists that I have never known completely blew me away: Octopus Project, The Boredoms, and Lightning Bolt most prominently. Octopus Project seems to come sweeping through on a wave of retro-cool synths, The Boredoms bash out an amazingly psychedelic tornado, and Lighting Bolt is so arresting in their violent performance style that it was almost scary. Also on hand were The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Two Gallants, Slint, Shellac, and David Cross (who gets booed off the stage). Everything from punk to electronic to folk to dance-hall seems to be represented in some way. Even the GZA makes an appearance!

Nonetheless All Tomorrow’s Parties wouldn’t be what it is without the fan footage, of course. Moments chronicled are the arrival, the side events, and of course the random encounters that spice up every festival. It seems that attendees were encouraged to bring instruments, and it seems that every bit of free time between actual performances were filled with impromptu jams and and traveling excitement. The location plays a unique roll; since everyone has their own dorm at the holiday camp, the feeling truly does seem to be one of a huge apartment community living, creating, and playing together. One fan in the film likens it to going back to college – “a big dorm party!” Seems fun. Great slices of life are sprinkled throughout: a man recites spoken word at night, three dudes sing great harmony on the beach, friends try to find the party in another room, and a drunk tries to get into his friends’ room in the early morning.

The filmmakers underscore the “artistic community” aspect by inter-splicing old interviews from Jerry Garcia, Patti Smith, Sun Ra, and Iggy Pop that show them espousing the values of artistic expression, following the muse, and (in Garcia’s particular case) creatives and fans living and working together communally (hey, not unlike the intent of the festival!). It’s easy to expect them to want to cast the event in the best possible light, but it’s to their credit that they largely pull it off.

My only gripe is that the film only includes only one disappointingly quick snippet of The Mars Volta on the edge of liftoff before cutting to another performance. There is so little professional, sanctioned video of TMV live. As a matter of fact, I looked up this film as a way to catch them specifically. Boy was I duped.

That said, a tease turned into a triumph, as I was not only entertained, but I was pushed to think about music differently. A highlight of the film is when many fan-shot scenes are layered over a jubilant Akron/Family jam, to the point where it looks like the disparate people are producing the sounds we hear, and come together to produce this mighty groove. It was a perfect encapsulation of the musical and social ethos championed by the film. So called “experimental” music soundtracked almost the entire movie, whether through actual performance or overlayed with fan-recorded footage. Yet the always pushed me along; it was made to move to. The music moved me, pumped me up, made me want to dance and jump and explore with every other sweaty person in that camp. The music and visuals and spirit gave me a new sense of the importance of propulsion in music, and how left-of-dial art seems to be so good at producing it. It was a reminder that sometimes the best stuff lies off the beaten path, and that no matter what “genre” it may fall under, music is made for celebration.