And just like that, 13 years of ArcTanGent at Fernhill Farm are over, as one of the most unique festivals in the world looks towards pastures new in 2027.
As someone who has attended every edition of ATG, interviewed loads of bands, performed on multiple occasions over the years with my bands Alright the Captain and a-tota-so, and more recently joined the crew to get stuck in with building the festival during the week running up to the main event, that probably tells you just how much I love ArcTanGent. It’s a festival that has always felt like home, giving all of us weirdos somewhere to exist, nerd out about our favourite bands that nobody else seems to know about and spend a few days surrounded by people who understand exactly why you’d travel hundreds of miles to stand in a field listening to some ridiculously technical, experimental, strange or heavy music.
From its humble beginnings in 2013, lifelong friendships have been formed by so many of the people who attend, with plenty of the same familiar faces still turning up around the site all these years later. ATG created a home for the weird and wonderful artists from around the world who don’t conform, or simply choose to stand out from the crowd, and that’s exactly why people love it. As the festival has evolved, so too has the music, with ATG continually pushing further into the left field, the experimental, the weird and wacky and, of course, the downright heavy and mathy stuff we all love. It’s been a joy watching the scene grow alongside the festival, with more and more people travelling from further afield each year, and 2026 finally saw ArcTanGent sell out for the first time. With heavy hitters such as Primus, Cult of Luna and Julie Christmas topping the bill, it proved there is a huge demand for this kind of music and, thankfully, it’s clearly going nowhere anytime soon.
Despite the bigger names pulling in huge crowds, ATG has never lost sight of the smaller and up-and-coming bands that are such an important part of the festival, and this year’s edition was packed with incredible performances from bands who are more than capable of being future headliners. Bristol’s own Sans Froid returned on the Wednesday and absolutely smashed it, coming back as heroes and putting in a performance that stood comfortably alongside bigger names such as Cardiacs, SikTh and Alpha Male Tea Party. They were certainly one of the bands who kept popping up in conversations throughout the weekend, with their set making plenty of people’s lists of the best performances of the festival. Elsewhere, No Violet gave it absolutely everything to a crowd left begging for more, while Dublin’s Bucket made a huge racket and Cork’s Worn Out kicked Friday morning into gear with an explosive 11am hardcore set that was probably a more effective wake-up call than any amount of coffee.
Italy’s ZU were another huge highlight for us, absolutely stealing the show at PX3 with their complex polyrhythms, eerie sounds and wonderfully chaotic approach, showcasing material from their new album in a set that was as hypnotic as it was punishing. Maruja were another band who completely owned their slot after jumping up to a later stage time, while special mentions have to go to Terminals, Wildernesses and Civil Service, who all made their ATG debuts and found themselves playing to huge crowds spilling out of their respective tents. That’s one of the great things about this festival; you can turn up to see a band you’ve never heard of on a tiny stage and suddenly find yourself surrounded by hundreds of people who have all had exactly the same idea.
There was no doubt on Friday that Primus were on the farm, with the crowds steadily getting bigger and bigger as the day went on and a huge number of day tickets sold specifically for the occasion. We did opt to disappear for a while to catch Scaler’s extraordinary live electronica set, which was well worth missing some of the build-up for, before making our way back in time to catch Primus running through the classics, including My Name Is Mud, Too Many Puppies and Jerry Was a Race Car Driver. It was exactly the sort of set you’d expect from Primus and a pretty perfect way to round off our Friday. The weather also behaved itself for most of the weekend, despite a few attempts at making a return to the biblical rains of 2019. Thankfully, they never really stuck around long enough to cause any serious problems, and by the final day we were instead dealing with the opposite problem, attempting to survive the heat while powered by Arbour, White Russians (with oat milk, because who the fuck drinks milk in a heatwave?), Pad Thai and Mac & Cheese.
Satruday was always going to be a case of trying to squeeze in as much as possible before the inevitable end, and we started with Leeds noise/grind duo Pleb before working our way through Belfast industrial rockers Preyers, Meatdripper and Reclus.e, eventually making our way to Din of Celestial Birds and their emotionally charged performance of tracks from their new album Take Offs and Landings. The set became particularly affecting as the crowd rallied around a clearly heartbroken guitarist Andie Gill, creating one of those genuinely memorable festival moments that you couldn’t have planned if you tried.
One of our biggest clashes of the weekend came with Chat Pile and Town Portal going head-to-head. Having seen Chat Pile in more recent years, we opted for Town Portal and thoroughly enjoyed the Danish trio’s dark and experimental take on math rock. What made the set particularly impressive was that it was all played completely live, without a backing track or click in sight, something that seems to be becoming increasingly rare these days. They pulled off one of the tightest and most free-flowing sets of the weekend.
From there it was time for a math-rock masterclass from TTNG, with Stu returning on vocals alongside Hank and the quartet working their way through an incredible selection of songs from their slowly growing catalogue. They also treated us to some new material, with Goose Stepping and Baboon being my personal favourites from the set. It’s genuinely bloody lovely to have them back.
As the evening approached, the horrible realisation that ATG was nearly over for another year started to sink in, and we made our way towards our final sets of the weekend as High on Fire brought their enormous stoner riffs to the Yokhai before Cult of Luna and Julie Christmas took to the main stage to close out the festival with Mariner, performed in full to celebrate its 10-year anniversary. It was a truly special performance and, honestly, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to close out the Fernhill Farm era. Somewhere above it all, organiser James Scarlett was perched on his ego platform, looking suitably delighted and celebrating what was yet another mind-blowingly good edition of ArcTanGent.
And so while the site may be changing, what makes ArcTanGent special isn’t going anywhere. It’s the people, the bands, the crew, the organisers and the ridiculous community that has grown around this festival over the last 13 years. It’s walking between stages and hearing something completely unexpected coming from a tent, deciding to give a band you’ve never heard of 20 minutes and ending up staying for the whole set. It’s bumping into someone you haven’t seen since the previous year and immediately picking up where you left off. It’s discovering your new favourite band in front of a crowd of 50 people and then watching them come back a couple of years later to a packed tent. Those moments are what ATG is really about, and they’re the things that will follow the festival wherever it goes.
It wasn’t just another edition of ArcTanGent; it was the closing chapter of one era and the beginning of another. There was a definite sense throughout the weekend that people knew they were experiencing something for the final time, but rather than making everything feel overly sentimental, it seemed to make everyone throw themselves into it even harder. The crowds were huge, the bands were on fire and there was a genuine feeling that everyone wanted to make the most of the final weekend at Fernhill.
So, Fernhill Farm, that’s a wrap. Thank you for 13 years of ridiculous music, questionable weather, late nights, early mornings, friendships, chaos, sore legs, broken voices, new favourite bands and more White Russians than anyone should reasonably consume in one weekend.
ATG FOREVER
Tickets for 2027 are already on sale, so don’t sleep on them if you want to party at the best festival in the world.