4 OFF belongs to the past

This edition of the OFF Festival in Mysłowice was billed as the most independent in its four-year history and to my taste it has lived up to its hype. Before they announced their line-up in early summer, I had little idea of who bands like The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Crystal Stilts or Olafur Arnalds were, to my enormous disadvantage. And before Friday, when the fest started, I had little idea how deep my ignorance was, not having paid enough attention to smash hits in the line-up, like Handsome Furs, a revelation I haven't seen for a long while released by Sub Pop, whose directors have been guests of honour in Mysłowice.

On the first day, my festival path started at the Forest Stage where a young Polish band George Dorn Screams played, but I have practically no memories of their show left. Then, I went on to see The Thermals, a band from Portland, performing on the Main Stage and again nothing has stayed with me by now, except the pleasure of watching them while lying sprawled on the grass in the mild late summer sun. I walked back to the Forest Stage to witness the first show by Micachu and the Shapes in Poland, a British experimental band driven by the much-prasied talent of a 21-year old Mica Levi, definitely worth my time, even though they may be too young to have enough quality material to impress.

And finally, the first really bright moment when the New York-based shoegaze-inspired pop group The Pains of Being Pure at Heart came on stage and carried the swelling audience away with their irresistible melodies, youthful lyrics and great contact during the show. The lead singer, who looked qintessentially American to me, was taken aback by the enthusiastic reception, especially considering their relatively low-key status in Europe, and it dawned on me again that the Polish audience never fails to please the performers with their generosity, a feature bands from U2 to Faith No More to more recent The Ting Tings or Santigold keep bringing up while on tour in Poland.

Then a string of disappointments started, some of them of my own making. First, I missed Health, who gave a supposedly great gig, when I agreed to go to the food area with my brother instead. Next, at the Trójka Offensywa Stage, my high hopes were dashed by the folk diva Marissa Nadler, much hyped around by Artur Rojek, the man behind OFF. I was drawn to her albums, full of melancholy and honest folk spirit, and probably expected more of her on stage, but what we got was a little aloof and unemotional. Her rapport with the audience was poor on top of that, which for me is always an indication of joy that artists themselves are having playing for me. Her performance made me think of another Americana folk artist I saw this seasson at Open'er - Priscilla Ahn, whose quiet, soft concert under the tent was given wings by her enchanting presence and connection with the listeners. This quality was painfully missing in Marissa Nadler. To make matters worse, I found myself in the middle of a furious gig by Fucked Up, a Canadian hardcore, not my cup of tea in the least, and had to fall back on the Experimental Stage in absence of any alternatives.

Fortunately, it's there where my misfortune came to an end and I could spend some time listening to otherworldy sounds of Lucky Dragons, an American duo who push the boundaries of what music is, creating sounds from odd instuments and a laptop in collaboration with the audience. It makes their shows look like a collective ritual, even more so considering the meditative, metaphysical vibe of their music. It was funny to observe the people get interested in how they generate their noise, stand up and then bashfully join them, taking part in the creative process.

After that, I hooked up with my brother to soak in his astonishment at how energetic Fucked Up were, in particular their lead singer, a fat, balding, hairy monster, who dived in the crowd during their second song and never reemerged until the concert was over. We decided to go and see the only Israeli band in the fest Monotonix playing at the Miasto Muzyki Stage, but their show was an awkward combination of talking, music and cabaret and I felt disinterested right from the start, even though their music alone sounds just fine. Lots of other people didn't share my scepticism and took part in their wild, interactive concert, elevating the band to the status of the festival revelation, especially because of their unique involvement of the audience. From there we went to see the final songs by the British group The Week That Was, but they were nothing to write home about. I like the way they used the piano, though.

To finish the long first day, I positioned myself at the Main Stage and waited for the opening sounds from a living legend of Britpop, the authors of a classic cd "Ladies and Gentleman, We Are Floating in Space", Spiritualized. I wasn't let down and spent the next hour and a half enjoying a masterfully planned and beautifully executed gig, which was full of variety and quite demanding on a listener, in my opinion. Cold, tired a and with my feet numb after I misjudged the weather and wore just flip-flopy sandals, I went back to my tent satisfied, but with little hope for a killer concert I remembered from a year ago. How wrong I was!

Handsome Furs made my second day, they pretty much opened and closed it, even though their show was midway through the evening. I hadn't even vaguely heard about them before, I hadn't even planned to be there at the Forest Stage, but as soon as the opening sounds rang out I knew I was in for an unforgettable treat. There was passion, there was nerve, there were sparks flying around and stunning, original sound, combining electronica with the guitar, as one review aptly said, "post-apocalyptic music to watch the world crumble to". Dan Boeckner, the natural born rock vocalist, and his wife, Alexei Perry, oozed unstoppable energy, Dan anxiously leaping around with his guitar, sputtering out the lyrics, his wife twisting her agile body in joga pirouettes at the drum machine. A stunning sight indeed, masterfully matching their spooky sound, bringing it to life. When I listen to their cd, named "Face Control" after their experiences in Moscow night clubs which exercise strong entry selection based on appearance, their stage antics won't let go even in the comfort of my peaceful room, their lasting effect too strong to erase. At one point during the performance, Dan mentioned Terminator Salvation as one of his favourite "documentaries about what happens when robots are given intelligence" and Handsome Furs seem to be haunted and inspired by such post-human scenarios, relying on a drum machine, putting on an unpredictable, punk image and making hypnotic, electrifying, supermodern music. They deserve to be much bigger and they will be bigger.

Handsome Furs swept all other acts aside that day, but I really appreciated watching Gaba Kulka, for the second time after her arresting concert in Gdynia under the tent. This year's discovery, she's managed to amass a collection of radio hits which have the audience teeming with excitement. Having enjoyed Gaba Kulka from the grass, I moved on to the Forest Stage only to be informed that Rolo Tomassi, some Sheffield-based youngsters, cancelled due to their bass guitarist's falling ill. After a quick beer with my brother, we proceeded to check out how Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, not exactly the most exciting live act, was doing in concert. Unsurprisingly, we left early to see Crystal Stilts from Brooklyn play on the Main Stage and I couldn't find a good reason to regret it. Their dark, dirty sound, reminiscent of Joy Division and, in terms of the vocals, The Doors, was enough to keep me grounded on the grass for the duration of the show.

Then the bomb exploded at 6.40 at the Forest Stage - Handsome Furs - and nothing was the same for me at the festival ever since. It gave me the same feeling of intense satisfaction Caribou did a year ago at the same stage, putting in a powerful, uncompromising display of live music.

With renewed belief in the power of modern artists to deliver exceptional experiences, but with little hope for a repetition during the festival, I watched Carifirnians from Crystal Antlers give a decent, energetic show. It was funny to learn one guitarist was actually Polish, even more so because I suspected something was not right with him from the start. I moved on to see Maria Peszek at the Main Stage, a bit of a repeat of Open'er 2009, but absolutely enjoyable. It's hard not to appreciate her consistence in relying on Polish in her lyrics and her remarkable originality in using it to paint a very contemporary, non-trivial picture of women, men or relationships.

I left early to pop in at the Experimental Stage to give Dictaphone a chance. Their elegant mix of electronica and a saxophone or a clarinet, performed by two artists, mostly for film and theatre, was alluring enough to draw crowds larger than the audience capacity. But I left early again to be in time for Wooden Shjips at the Forest Stage where they seemed a tad classic with their long, hippy hair and guitar noise, closing their show with a Neil Young cover, which reveals a lot about their inspirations. Expectations were running high for the next artist in line, but Jeremy Jay, at least from my point of view, is not really a name to remember, though his retro performance was smart and spotless, except for a tiny acoustic glitch at its start.

Finally, there came a much-anticipated concert by The National, a relatively recent New York-based squad, which nonetheless sounds like an instant rock classic, mostly due to its leaad singer, blessed by the gods with a gritty, low, Cohen-like voice. I'd known them before, so it was double pleasure for me to hear a selection of my top National songs, especially "Mistaken for Strangers", live. The show was long, very professional and some parts of it were in memory of John Hughes, an American director who'd died one day before the concert.