At this year's ATP, most of the bill is dominated by '80s and '90s veterans, and very few of the bands are still on any sort of upward trajectory. So it was a bit jarring to see buzzy Brits the Horrors, all of whom would get carded attempting to buy cigarettes, take the stage. Even after losing the poodle haircuts that they had early on, the Horrors still look like an anime director's idea of a youthful rock band, not a group who should be sharing a bill with Shellac and Swans, the band's Portishead connections notwithstanding. But with their towering synth-rock anthems, the band absolutely proved that they belong. Even though they looked a bit nervous onstage, their songs, especially the ones from new album Skying, were more than confident enough to cover them.

I have nothing but respect and admiration to the myriad brave, insane souls who made it through Swans' set in the ornate Paramount Theatre without the help of earplugs. The two-hour set from the grizzled postpunk veterans was feel-it-in-your-stomach loud, and frontman M. Gira wasn't shy about demanding that the crowd come closer to the stage and its ear-destroying speakers. (He actually said, "Stop being such pussies.") All that loudness helped the band's songs achieve an elemental force, as a few of the band's newest pieces stretched out to a half-hour or longer. Gira was a grizzled, demonic force onstage, slapping himself in the face and tearing at his hear while showing off one of rock's most booming, authoritative voices. And the band behind him looked like wizened gunslingers (except drummer Thor Harris, who looks more like a simian barbarian). It all added up to a furious full-immersion experience, the sort of show where you feel like an entirely new person when you walk out.

To be completely honest, I found Tyondai Braxton’s involvement in Battles to be distracting save for one major aspect; the band’s live performance was indebted to his presence. Without Braxton -- whose vocals were re-recorded and cued up on samplers, which served as a sort of weird jab to Braxton – the current trio isn’t much to watch, though the verve of Battles’ music might be stronger and more enticing than ever.

Geoff Barrow’s other outfit, Beak>, scores with its krautrock groove and thick, enveloping basslines. Beak>, who also played last year’s ATP pretty shortly after they became a band, is in a sense the epitome of an ATP outfit; a band deeply entrenched into its own sound and protective of their music in a live setting.

Colin Stetson's eerie, experimental music left the audience at the Paramount just about as breathless as the performer himself. Stetson played into the crowd's adulation; as he wove into "A Dream Of Water," Stetson said, "Unfortunately Laurie Anderson isn't here to do her part. But I've become accustomed to doing it myself."

Ultramagnetic MCs are one of the only hip hop groups at the festival, and certainly its work is less revered than Public Enemy’s (Public Enemy play Sunday). However, even dealing with some muddy sound the trio of rappers led by Kool Keith sounded sharp and exuded chemistry -- even a clumsy freestyle held the attention of the crowd.

Outside the Asbury Lanes bowling alley immediately after Portishead's set finished, the line to get in and see the London trio Factory Floor stretched around the block. Plenty of the people in that line never made it in, but those who did got to hear a very serious combination of reverbed-out goth vocals and thumping '80s-style Detroit techno. That's a powerful combination, and it sounded pretty great in the bowling alley, even if the group didn't project much in the way of presence onstage.

Foot Village

Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog

Peanut Butter Wolf

Silver-Qluster

The Pop Group

Portishead