Given that the UK no longer operates under the four season rule, I took my chance this year on Bestival. September is generally kind to us and I’d already envisioned myself sitting in a field with a pear cider and Sigur Ros. There were bits and pieces of the line-up which caught my eye, but I was more excited about the amount which was unknown to me. A few hours on Spotify helped me compose a list and, as with all festival, everything else generally falls into place as you go along. Admittedly my list still wasn’t very long, I knew I had to factor in hangover time, quiet time, comedy tent time, art time and safe haven time. I knew the tent wasn’t going to be an option to die in due to the weather.
Having been to the IOW festival, I wasn’t expecting too much difference, perhaps even smaller. There it seems like one straight line from camp to entertainment field to main field and back. There were certainly no hills. On the way down from the entrance to the campsite at Bestival I certainly wasn’t counting on the decline that was presented. Immediately I feared how the hell I was going to get back after 4 days of drinking and insomnia. The entire area had a much more open feel than I’d though, the rolling hills provided the perfect landscape to separate all of the campsite and entertainment areas. It was much more of an ‘open-world’ environment. Each of the four main-stages (not counting the other roughly 10 dance arenas) strategically placed for prominence in the site and the level of crowd. I did feel sorry for the poor sods that had to sleep at 45 degree angle though.
Thursday was left for me to explore. Given that there’s less people than IOW festival, Bestival is so much more vast and diverse. It really caters for a specific type of audience. The music doesn’t cater for all, the atmosphere and decoration draws in everyone who needs to let their troubles go and simply disappear to another life, even just for four days. I spent a lot of time checking out the different food stalls, asking myself if having a crocodile burger would be a better option that the kilo of pasta bake I’d prepared myself to last at least three days. It wasn’t, so I went and sat to watch a dancing Indian try and throw a hat onto Charlie Chaplin’s cane.
After a few hours of passing some of the beautifully extravagant instillations, such as the huge abandoned mill, pop-up church, smoking cars and dead tree with a small night club inside, in the Wishing Tree area, I headed off to see Alabama Shakes at the Big Top. A southern blues band, headed by Brittany Howard’s whose vocals were outstanding and they brought real deep seeded, passionate songs that were the perfect start to the evening. I also held out for a bit of Gary Numan, sitting on the periphery as I naturally needed to get another drink in. There is a big tendency for this, to not fully commit to an act. Again with Hot Chip, I was in more admiration of the view from the Big Top, lording in over the main stage and surrounding fields. The sun was gone by now and the expanse of lights was mesmerising. Chip and Newman were just my background music to this. Everyone in the tent cheered, they sounded good from afar.
Bestival does operate a ‘No Personal Alcohol in the Arena’ policy, which didn’t seem too much of a bother as many of the attractions were still outside this zone. As the days went on though, this policy became unmanageable as an avalanche of people started entering the field. The barriers were shifted and quite sensibly, security just gave in and a flash of the wristband was enough. Some of the site, Bollywood, Ambient Forrest would open on Friday, so this luckily narrowed down my walking time. So I head to Club Dada, which is a huge circular pop-up club. Packed wall-to-wall as the main stage didn’t kick off until Friday either, it was the happiest clubbing experience I’ve ever had. I even trod on someone and stayed alive. Rather that put his hand through my face is went around my neck and we danced. Even better was the sudden clearing in the dance floor and an outbreak of break dancing, seemingly completely unrehearsed, people throwing themselves in the air with back flips and spins. I called it an early night at around 2am.
Friday
A part of me couldn’t grasp that most of the people would be arriving on the Friday, that place was already a massive hive of activity. My head and legs were a little heavier than I’d like them to have been, but experience taught me that it takes a day or so to settle into the routine. Breakfast consisted of beef soup and tea, expertly cooked on my tiny gas stove. There was more time for exploration in the morning. I was camped pretty central, so I headed in the opposite direction of the main arena to the Soul Lounge and Arcadia. Initially I got lost and though that a row of food stalls and an inflatable boob tent was it, I was very wrong. The effort that had gone into the Soul Lounge was astounding, it was a paradise. Billed as the place to dispel all your worries and recover from the night before, it was filled with luxury hammocks, herbal tea tent, numerous massage station and even hot tubs. More impressive was a garden that housed pods to relax in, which hung over small ponds. This place was going to come in handy.
I caught When Prophecy Fails at the Psychedelic Worm, a stage set outside the main arena, right next to the campsite. Whoever wanted to sleep there, it wasn’t going to happen. They produced a brutal set which was strangely the perfect antidote for most within earshot. Wandering on by, the fancy dress outfits starting to get mixed in with the view. So far it had been seemingly compulsory for the women to have their asses literally hanging out of hot pants. Thankfully there was rarely a man-boob on show. Everything was pretty respectable that way, apart from the asses which really didn’t warrant being hung out. Maybe it was intentional?
One of the acts I was most looking forward to, which only came to my attention because of this festival, was
. I caught them at the ‘Replay With Rob da Bank’ tent, a very modest yet much stylised tent. Seemed like everyone else was in on this absolute gem of a band too, they could have filled the tent capacity three times over. People were clambering up the side of the tent supports and atop the art arches for a better view. Charmingly humbled by the turn out, their live work comes across even more rich than it sounds on the album. There is a lot more power and depth portrayed in the instruments. Big hitters ‘Tessellate’ and ‘Breezeblocks’ go down a storm, wonderfully captivating music. Joe Newman’s distinct, seductive vocals are also a massive draw and it’s no wonder they have been nominated for the Mercury Music prize.
To let everything sink in and ponder how soon I could get the album, I headed to the freshly opened Bollywood and Ballroom field. This is where the truly unique activities lie. Carnival had really already begun with stilt walker, helter skelter, big wheel and blinding rainbow colours dominated. I had a little sit down in what was literally a tiny makeshift front room with a guy on a drum. He was good, his beard was better. Unfortunately the queue for the Insect Circus was huge and my scatty desire to try and soak up everything led me to go laugh at the people falling over at the roller disco. Through the Ballroom Field, you could head up to the Ambient Forrest. Now the one thing I thought festivals such as Latitude had over everyone else, was it dedication to culture. It hosts comedy, poetry, theatre and literature tents. On my way through the forest I pass and interactive production of A Midsummer Night’s Dreams, which couldn’t have been more enthusiastic. The Amphitheatre had Scroobius Pip hosting spoken word sessions followed by a mix of short plays. Later I was to experience more of this dedication to production, where living dead characters emerge from the Swap Shack near the Wishing Tree, freaking the hell out of those milling around.
Emile Sande drew a huge crowd on the main stage, possible bolstered due to her Olympics performance. Here though she was more animated with a very jovial performance, yet still with a quite beautiful voice. Having proved herself with in the background with other artists, her sheer likability as a sole artist no doubt will see her achieve great things over the next year. Plus she looked very stylish, so expect lots of articles in Grazia.
The big draw for me tonight was going to be The xx. Admittedly I’m a cynic and couldn’t grasp the hype. Maybe I’d listened to so much similar, but which produced an actual payoff in their songs, that the slow burn of the The xx I was yet to become accustomed to. I liked Intro. I decided to make the effort and got involved with the crowd, following others trails to get a good jammed in piece of atmosphere. Its starts and yes, their vocals are beautiful and for the two of them to initially dominate such a vast setting was quite astounding. But soon my initial fears had been realised. The guys next to me summed it up perfectly, ‘It always feels like they’re about to get started, then they never do’. It began to drag, with little definition and the chat soon started. I wish I hadn’t wedged myself in so well. If was enough for people to stop paying attention, but not bad enough for them to leave. It became background music.
Again, I think the over excess of love for Florence + The Machine made me not pay attention either, but here I was pleasantly surprised. She is no doubt a festival headliner, the songs are huge, and her performance was ethereal and done with such command. Humbled that she first performed ‘You got the Love’ here at Bestival on a much small setting a few years back, she soaked up every ounce of love the crowd was giving and there was plenty. ‘Shake It Out’ and ‘Dog Days are Over’ did it for me and I felt a little ashamed that I’d let her pass me by all these years without even making the effort.