I almost didn’t want to write this review.
I’m not in the business of gatekeeping. It’s literally my job to tell you about the amazing and wonderful things happening in Brighton and surrounding area. But sometimes you visit somewhere so special and intimate and lovely and part of you, selfishly, wants to gatekeep.
I arrived to The Wake, held on Loxmead Meadow, Billingshurst, late. I was harassed, unprepared. I even said I was going to sleep in my car rather than put my tent up.
And then I started to explore, I walked through a woodland where children ran past me, playing with sticks, a blur of sparkles and fun. The small crooked house next to a stage decorated with not-yet lit fairylights. People sitting in huddles, chatting, laughing.
The camping meadow was vast, with only a handful of tents, but plenty of signs of a community starting to be formed. I felt my shoulders relax, my brow unfurrow.
The music on the Crooked Hut Stage -one of four dotted around the festival – was Joe Wilkes. Perfectly balanced folk music alongside a guitar and harmonica, his voice weaving in and out of the branches.
We listened and then explored further. The next space to try was, naturally, the Mead Shack.
Speaking to Ash and Rhys, of Loxwood Meadworks, we learned about the process in making the mead and sampled the different flavours before settling on Sussex Sunset and Vintage 23.
The mead was delicious and refreshing.
Loxwood Meadworks mead can be sampled in venues around Brighton and is well worth a try, by the way. They are stocked at The Joker, Vine Street Tap and Tern Restaurant in Worthing, among others.
We listened to Studio Electronique, a solo project of singer-songwriter James Leesley and had a bit of a dance before heading back to set up the tent.
We caught The Tubs. The Tubs, if you don’t know, are an energetic excellent four-piece. We were treated to jokes from the band’s Scottish guitarist Taylor Stewart between each song. Everyone was dancing and singing along as the light faded around the stage.
The rest of the evening passed in a beautiful, whimsical blur. It was over way too quickly.
A highlight for me without a doubt was The Grand Old Echo who played twice on the Crooked Hut stage.
This three-piece band brought together folk, juggling and rap, the very best of British Bluegrass. It’s been a while since I have been so surprised by a band’s stretch of talent.
We listened to them perform Time On The Stage, Amsterdam and El Dorado – a cover of a Molly Tuttle song.
One song – Kharmic Cowboys – was so appreciated by the sound technician Gareth that he left his post and danced among the crowd.
After their set we limped, emotions all but spent, over to listen to the headline act.
I had left home in such a hurry that I forgot my camping chairs. But I am glad that I did. We settled on the ground on our spread-out coats and waited for Damon Gough, aka Badly Drawn Boy, to take to the stage.
The set felt at times like a sharing space. Damon started off typically dismissive, I thought, and then opened up, making the point that one never knows what someone is going through.
He spoke about his last year, which by all accounts has not been an easy one, following the death of his mother in May. He said about his father: “I don’t know what the f*ck to do except stand by his side”.
This is a man still in the throes of grief.
Fade Away brought the audience back to him. We were his after that. The night fell to the sound of his voice, still tender all these years later. He played the hits, but also new songs, or tracks we hadn’t heard before. His song about his children; ‘Fly on the Wall’ was as beautiful as any other song he’s written.
He also performed a cover of Richie Haven’s Woodstock track ‘Can’t Make It Any More’ which felt very personal.
The Wake was everything festivals these days are not any more. It was affordable and intimate and friendly and non-commercial. It was whimsical and magical and it felt so special.
There’s a rumour that next year it may return for two nights. I’ll see you there.
Keep an eye on www.thewake.uk for 2027 tickets
