There once was a saying all good things start with a dick joke (or should I say "penga"?). Certainly my second day at ATP 2002 did and so does the ATP 2002 Disc 2. Fred Armisen was a wasted element at ATP, his pre-Shellac were comedic genius, even better than Chevy Chase. His turn as Niles Covington (erm, Prince) was only bettered by his self-defence seminar on sunday, which appears on track 10 of this CD.

I won't lie to you, of the 16 bands/acts featured on this CD I only turned up for six and only paid real attention to two of them. See if you can guess which bands those were, I think you will be pleasantly surprised.

Anyways, kicking off musical proceedings is the floating headfuck of High Dependency Unit. Nope, I didn't go see them but from listening to their offering here I reckon had I turned up for the party I might have gone completely insane, with the spinning and the revolving. Is this really Can? Am I Boner Boy? Silly question.

I was told the Lonesome Organist was a genuine treat, an ultimate wedding and party (VFM) act. I was told the movie The Wedding Singer was originally supposed to have featured the man (lie!). Or at least it should have. The Lonesome Organist may suggest something of a novelty act but tell me this is not the kind of backdrop Tom Waits and Screamin' Jay Hawkins would lynch for.

The gravelly drawl of PW Long was yet something else I missed and the offering here suggests I missed an even dirtier version of early Will Oldham (who I hate) type character. I was told the Shellac song Prayer To God was written about him. Now, that may be true.

Low, as per usual, offer up he/she acoustics that sound nothing but lame to me. Elvis was a hero to most..... And upon each additional turn of the digital disc is begins to sound like something of the Blur experimental album. That's a low man.

In contrast, the complete opposite noise noise noise of Melt Banana is something that is absolutely special and I would dearly have liked to have seen (but didn't, them being weekend two only and all). Cleverly the raw sheet white noise of Melt Banana does sound like the great stuff of distortion, standing head and shoulders above frenetic by the book hardcore, which the uninitiated might mistake it for. Their track here is titled Introduction For Charlie and/but it is a third of the way through the song before I realise it is a cover of Neat Neat Neat by the Damned. Cheeky sauce.

A big highlight for me was accidentally happening upon/across Mission Of Burma and discovering that they are/were still really fucking great. I was told they were "hardcore legends", which was something I took on very sceptically, but their ferocity and charge was genuine and fuelled sounding anything but dated. And so I feel they are poorly represented here with a soft (in comparison) version of That's When I Reach For My Revolver, the song made famous by Moby (and also covered by Graham Coxon). As much as I dug Mission Of Burma on the Sunday, I'll openly faux pas here by declaring I prefer the Moby version to the original (call me Traitor Graham).

Nina Nastasia returns things to a slow pace with her acoustic twiddlings, displaying her real strength/asset in her strong but vulnerable (and very beautiful) voice. In the same manner as Hope Sandoval and Chan Marshall, I have to admit although very popular with the masses, it doesn't do much for me as I go out in a blaze of glory but it's the sort of sad joy people love Cat Power for.

I was well prepared for The New Year having already heard (dismissed) their album and made myself familiar with their lineup and pedigree (Bedhead, Codeine). Somehow however their inclusion track here sounds fresh to me, a good version of that there Karate rock in one of their country tanged times.

Also sounding very different on disc (perhaps ill representing their general sound), the Oxes sound part of that whole scene that manages a guitar sound akin to a beeping computer, a strange observation in comparison to the metallic and visceral sound they have/had live. However as with the Oxes live, the track here is something fairly jerky (math, even Don Cab style) which ends up going on a bit (lot).

Plush turn out to resemble what their name suggests, velvet on vinyl (or rather digital disc). P lush are plush, loungey and cheesy, smoke-stained and out of place. There is an air of Bobby Conn appeal but ultimately it does sound like the Divine Comedy (nah good).

I thought the Rachel's live were pretty good but their track here is shit sandwich. A Denis Leary-esqe review might go "insects crickets, random piano, strings come in, I go out, lame". No excuse for it, full stop

Mark Robinson, who used to be in Unrest, reminds me of some guy on Matador a few years ago called Chris Knox. That's good. Mr Robinson's inclusion here is a jittery affair, a real treasure of echoing guitar, inholding a stop start stutter (akin to Gareth Gates perhaps) that manages to contain a fresh air to it. And for someone performing on their own that is really good, powerful and memorable in leaving its mark.

Prior to Shellac performing Disgrace on saturday, Steve Albini commented "this song describes English cuisine". Of all the tracks on this CD, this is the song you have most likely already heard and thus needs little introduction nor description. For me, Terraform is still the Shellac album that contains my favourite Shellac tracks and this is the one notorious for the eternity break in it (memorable for the Peel airplay back in the day and prior warning of impending dead air). Everything has been said about Shellac already but I have to say I fucking loved superstar Todd Trainer's etiquette over the course of the weekend.

The Shipping News offering is less startling. For me they're still very hit and miss and the track here is a disappointing mish mash of silly cymbals and silly effects, a slow mish mash of disappointing atmospherics over a dull offering that makes an occasional great band sound like a crap solo project. Ouch.

A surprise here is the Silkworm track. Their set (partly clashing with Arcwelder on the Sunday) proved pretty lame and ordinary but their offering here equates to fun, verging on adventurous and proving a genuine swinger. Touching upon areas like (again) Karate and Braid, it sounds indie rock with genuine integrity like a soft Fugazi almost. Aces.

The final track and hey, it's Smog. I think Smog caused most offence over the weekend, the man basically just did not cut it on his own, relying on reputation and, as my new best friend who bought me a pint during his set stated, "this is just shit served up as ice cream". Why'd the prick go solo live when he is capable of such joys as his track here when motoring a whole band. Then again, I would question as to whether it is very healthy for a person in their twenties to be listening to such aged music. Dr Evil, s'wrong.

Did you hear about the couple who made love in the plumbers position? They stayed in all morning, but nobody came.

article by Jason Graham

ATP CD 1 by Ady Foley
ATP CD 3 by Rob Strong (and Stuart Fowkes)