Green Man Festival, Brecon Beacons​, review: There are few better places to watch music outdoors

The War on Drugs, Fleet Foxes and Anna Calvi were among the performers at this corporate-free festival in a bucolic setting

Burning man: the effigy is set alight at the end of the festival (Olivia Williams)

This jewel in Britain’s festival crown, now in its 16th year, has many facets that draw 20,000 people to the Beacons: a spectacular, bucolic setting at the foot of a towering mountain landscape, a corporate-free spirit and a devotion to artistic curation. The sight of a group of young children dancing enthusiastically in the sunshine, as Kevin Morby’s excellent sun-drenched Sunday teatime set climaxed with modern classic “Dorothy”, summed up the carefree mood.

Musically, the bill was once again strong, even if the headliners lacked a certain gold dust. Since breaking through with 2014’s Lost in Dream, The War on Drugs have been slowly edging towards top billing like the hearty souls who every year climb to the top of the peak that overlooks the main stage. Their Sunday closing set is a skilfully constructed, polished and occasionally thrilling take on their canon – an extended, unremitting, Krautrock-y rendition of “Under the Pressure” hints at where frontman Adam Granduciel could take the Philadelphian band if their influences (classic American rock, essentially) became less apparent. On Saturday Fleet Foxes play faithful renditions of their harmonious folk to by some distance the biggest crowd of the weekend, but it is Friday night that the Mountain stage takes flight.

King Gizzard and the Wizard Lizard were a bold choice of headliner – two years ago the Aussie psych-rockers played the Far Out tent – but with a touring calendar as incessant as their release schedule (five albums in 2017 alone) their well-honed set, ranging from pummelling, fuzzy garage rock to experimental, mindbending wig-outs and back again, shows King Gizz deserve their seat at the top table. Will Black Midi be joining them soon? The mysterious super-hyped London band have no online presence and haven’t even released a song, but their intense scattergun Friday night show – a smorgasbord of influences from 40 years of alternative rock – feels like the start of something special. Ones to watch.

If that seems testosterone heavy, then the rest of the bill redresses the balance. True, Mockney-in-chief Baxter Dury was at his charismatic best as he knowingly swaggered his way through an excellent Saturday main stage set, while Japan’s Bo Ningen pummelled a sweaty tent into submission with their wild and weird acid rock just moments prior. But Saturday at the Far Out tent saw night techno-veterans Simian Mobile Disco team up with 27-strong female vocal collective Deep Throat Choir for an innovative set that brought their collaborative Murmurations album to life: at various times minimal, off-kilter and harsh, the choir’s ethereal tones made for a beguiling accompaniment to SMD’s hypnotic beats. At the same slot on Friday, London duo Mount Kimbie leave their post-dubstep roots for dust with an expansive, synth-heavy assault.

Female singer-songwriters stood out all weekend. Amber Arcades has turned heartbreak and isolation into lush songs that nag away long after her early afternoon show finishes; Snail Mail’s lo-fi melodies (from teenager Lindsey Jordan) are fraught with emotion and, at the Walled Garden on Friday evening, delivered with heart-racing intensity. Anna Calvi’s forthcoming album Hunter sees her replace melodramatic goth opera for more straightforward 1980s-style synths, but her soaring vocal acrobatics and spiralling guitar work remain fiercely potent. Returning local hero Cate Le Bon’s avant-pop sounds as adventurous and idiosyncratic as ever, as dusk descends on Saturday evening her duet with John Grant on “I Think I Knew” is a highlight of the weekend.

In fact, Grant’s set immediately after was the best of the entire festival. There were no new songs despite his forthcoming Love is Magic album, but by wringing every last ounce of feeling from his deeply personal arsenal of soul-bearing, poignant ballads, he connects with a rapt crowd using his gravitas and easy charm. Sat watching from the vantage point of the hill, with the site lit up as darkness has fallen, you’re struck by the fact there can be few better places to watch music outdoors than at Green Man Festival.