20/10/2025
FIRE PONY / ALMAHATA / DANAMA / THE ECHOGRAMS / BETIFYA / POPPY ROCKETT / ESTELLE MEY / ESCUCHA / ZOMBIE KILLERS
A sensational Compass Music festival draws to a close with many recommendations for you to hoover up.
Closing day of a wonderful Compass Music festival and an ordeal for my feet now that sedan chairs are apparently no longer a thing, but a thrill for the ears as I find myself encountering new sounds and shocks, which is always a good thing.
So let me take you through my day, as I doff my hat in the specific direction of Géraldine Zanaska who put this event together and has superb taste, in that there was not only something for everyone, from indie to hip-hop to modern punk to country to folk to whoeverknowswhat, but also the delicious promise of mystery. You might have picked a few favourites in advance but you were also confronting strangeness. As things started I had only two I needed to see, in Estelle Mey and Zombie Killers, so the rest would be an adventure.
Starting with total bafflement as I entered the weird looking 51 Skate, a building which houses a skate park and climbing wall among its attractions, although here the bands are playing in the foyer, the backdrop surrounding them being curious passers-by, and here we find FIRE PONY. Four men sedately approaching middle age, apart from the human firework in the red cap, who we will encounter again in extraordinary circumstances later on, albeit wearing a different t-shirt. (It takes more than that to fool a journalist!) As to what they were up to I have no idea. Light moody introspective beginnings meandered towards sparky moments as he flailed around and the drums gave an oomph to proceedings. They call themselves emo synth but maybe modern prog being set ablaze is also applicable.
Then I definitely wandered into unsafe territory, first with the more delicate sounds of ALMAHATA at the Music Workshop HQ, where you could lounge on a sofa as she entertained with lively folk music, not unlike a UK Aimee Mann, before simply sauntering less than a hundred yards to the tiny pub The Blind Pig for confident indie acoustic from DANAMA who quietened the yapping locals after just two songs. Self-deprecating but acerbic. Then after another Guinness Zero, my faithful companion through much of the day, you can simply cross the road and just squeeze into the wonderfully cosy old fashioned BLACKMARKET boozer. Here I find THE ECHOGRAMS from Margate being fascinating. They call their sound Bluegaze which I guess makes sense. Stolid bass and ultra-meticulous drumming, with interesting low floaty vocals, offset by devilish keyboards and guitar. They were well into their set and I was only able to catch a couple of songs, making a mental diary note to see them again where possible because they were really interesting.
A quick foxtrot left and I’m back at the Music Workshop hub lounge where I was delighted to see Australian country singer BETIFYA was wearing a hat, just as she had in the festival promotional photos. Who doesn’t like a singer in resourceful headgear? She was clearly in a happy mood, laughing and messing around with friends before beginning her set. I think she explained that her name is meant to be like Betty Fire, which obviously doesn’t work, but she was my unexpected joy of the day, with dark themes made bouncy and although parading what must be a trademark ‘yip yip yip’ vocal dalliance she struck me as more than just country. As an ardent fan of Bonnie Raitt (especially the earliest six albums) there was a country blues feel here which was wonderful. She’s moving to Iceland and leaving the UK which she admits she hates, due to her upbringing, having recently returned reluctantly from Australia, which she also hates. The final ‘f**k off song’ explained why that happened where she stunned us all by announcing she’d been kidnapped and held prisoner (and worse), then had to spend her own money taking the creep responsible to court, but he now sits rotting in prison while she’s off to a new life in Iceland where I sincerely hope she finds happiness.
Back at the weirdly shaped 51 Skate where, like at all the venues, friendly volunteers are on hand, you start noticing that the drinks choice is pretty basic, and the snacks are vanishing at record pace, and I’m also starting to recognise familiar photographer faces, as some had happily been tasked with covering specific venues. And where the festival facilitated performers of all ages possibly the youngest were POPPY ROCKETT, an earnest indie outfit who built carefully with layers of sound and positive vocals. They looked like they had to concentrate rather than being able to relax but it had heart and vigour as well as power, because I could hear them from afar as I laboured up the hill towards 20th Century Speedway.
That fu***ng hill! I’ve hated it ever since my heart attack left me with only half a functioning heart. The first time I encountered it was the week after I got out of the cardio ward and got home. The health centre is at the bottom of the hill, and we’d parked up the top. Walking back was a nightmare made physical. Obviously over the years you get fitter and stronger and most people that meet me now mistake me for a prima ballerina but I can reveal the horrendously protracted incline always has the same effect. What might take you a minute takes me five, easily, and I got slower every time today. People were probably reporting sightings on paranormal forums of a strange shadow man moving eerily through the night.
ESTELLE MEY was worth the agony. Here we get raw rock mixed with avant-pagan magic. The dominant musical sandwich filling is her and drummer Rob (best drummer of the day, mind!) delivering fluid potent raw rock with scandalously uplifting shredding vocals, but the start and finish is different. To begin and end we have songs featuring Coor Brow-Obles dressed for serious swashbuckling, and multi-instrumentalist (and here we have to consider the mentalist aspect of that term) Lee Hunt on a variety of unusual woodwind instruments. How in God’s name does he transport these things? (I suspect he waits for a passing pole vaulter and just hides them amongst their gear?) This gives another flavour entirely. No need for a bass with Lee providing his sonorous rhythmic impact, and Coor adds further guitar colour, while also wielding a hand drum like a nervous child. They were absolutely fantastic and I bought CDs afterwards to investigate further, especially as Estelle is developing her ‘Woodchant’ side of things, with music, art and magazines (see link below). Next month we’re starting regular music reviews on my Substack, and next year an onslaught of interviews, so expect to hear more of both Estelle and Coor there.
I was perusing the Compass booklet, which was actually brilliantly laid out with the timetable and venues map, and faced a perilous decision, should I nip off and see someone else then back to Speedway for Escucha, or just stay put for a bit? I rested my feet and simply surveyed the scene, as I spotted some familiar faces wandering into the venue. You may recall I reviewed the rather lovely Kopper a few days back? Well I spotted at least two of them and some of the people who came to see them, and within a short while I realised why. We also meet the engaging nutter from Fire Pony again.
You remember that moment when your science teacher at school suddenly transformed into a homicidal maniac? No, well see ESCUCHA (they like exclamation marks before and after their name but one is upside down and I don’t know how to do that) and all will make sense. As these seasoned musical veterans (I gather this was their first gig together for ten years) begin their set it’s mainly some gentle stirrings on the synth from the nerdy singer, looking determined and absorbed in this slow moving material, as a bearded guitarist remains rooted to the venue floor. I think he did put a foot on the stage occasionally but otherwise remained among the crowd all night.
And then … BLAMMM! All Hell lets loose as they explode into a moshtastic punk frenzy, the singer a raging stomping hound dog, the shaven headed guitarist is on elastic pinging around, and even the bassist enters the crowd. Just the drummer left alone up there, like a gunner refusing to leave his post. So here was the link to Kopper who had that same duality between moments of beauty before turning ballistic, so I assume this a particular hardcore punk genre? Is the guitarist in the crowd some ‘band and audience as one’ statement? I know not but this was a fearsome delight. Not many songs, as they were long, throbbing occasions, but definitely a real standout.
After that I discovered I’d buggered up the phone. I don’t have, or want, one and had borrowed Lynda’s so I could track the bus timetable. I couldn’t remember the number code! Lynda had her last night of the Calendar Girls show she was performing in and the cast have a party afterwards, so I obviously need the bus but … if the last one doesn’t come I can’t contact her and she wouldn’t be home until midnight, before returning to Folkestone to find a frozen me. It all gets very complicated and I’m not wasting thirty quid on a cab. So that settled an early end to the night. I could go down to 51 Skate again and catch as much of the mighty Zombie killers as I could before leaving base camp and attacking the North face of the imposing Mount Folkestone (technically even the bus stop is still on the fu***ng hill).
They have no lights! This is weird as all the strip lighting was on for Fire Pony when it was broad daylight outside. So it’s a gloomy place with just a handful of people when I arrive, but the crowds are clearly relying on the venues keeping to schedule (which they do, admirably) and within about five minutes at least fifty people have barrelled in. Even the soundcheck draws applause but there’s no gig until Tom has his headband on, and I’m sure everyone agrees Oceanne has the best t-shirt of the day and then they’re off, crunching through a delirious display. (Also playing a Rock For George event in Canterbury at The Ballroom on Thursday if you’re interested.)
After six songs I head off into the unknown, as it should always be…
(Bigger photos and links for all bands in the review at https://mickmercer.substack.com/p/fire-pony-almahata-danama-the-echograms - free to subscribe. More photo galleries of the artists tomorrow.)
18th October 2025 sees a sensational Compass Music festival draws to a close with many recommendations for you to hoover up.
