The bands were mostly really good but you'd be better off reading about them at Pitchfork:
The pictures here explore the mostly unseen parts of the resort, parts that ranged from pretty weird to pretty nightmarish. (Ask Olly about the basement toilets whose seats were duck-taped down as though to prevent something from crawling out).
I found that the creepiest thing about the resort's nether-regions was the pervasive feeling of contrivance I got when visiting them; everything seemed staged for my photographing pleasure. I often felt as though I were discovering not an abandoned space but rather a well-preserved art installation.
Though I was initially mad at myself for not bringing my nice camera, I think the graininess and subdued tones captured by my early-'70s vintage Canonet are actually pretty well-suited to the subject matter.
Overall, it was a pretty fuzzy weekend.