Boats, bars and bouncing around: Day three of Left Of The Dial 2025
Left Of The Dial’s finest moments all come in strange places. Never again do I want to see a band in a basic venue. The game has been ruined. Give me a band on a boat or nothing at all.
For the final day, the festival kicks into high gear, it seems. After yesterday’s cowboy hat saga, the silly merch just keeps on appearing as everyone wanders off to side quests – sing-alongs, music quizzes, even a chance to see exactly how accessible venues are as Rotown becomes a wheelchair obstacle course. It’s the sort of programming that you wouldn’t see elsewhere, as the organisers continue their commitment to a good time for everyone.
This ethos evidently stretches beyond just putting on gigs and showcasing bands. It delves deeper into what a ‘scene’ can offer, harnessing a great sense of community and creativity in motion. It’s not self-serious about that message either, it is positively unhinged.
But thankfully, the music is great, too. Their eclectic approach to activities reflects in the lineup, as in one day, we get into pure punk, country rock, jazz, and the actual cha cha slide.
Bands on a boat
All the best gigs here come on transport. After yesterday’s insane bus excursion with YAANG, the excitement to board a boat with a two-band lineup and a free bar is obscenely high.
This is one of the things the festival has become known for. For an additional fee on top of the three-day ticket, the hour or so long boat trip is famed. The bands love playing it, the people love going to it – some people barely even tough dry land for days.
On this round, Y are playing, bringing their London chaos to the ship as we sail to the sound of some high-octane avant rock, complete with saxophone. Meanwhile, we do our best to down as many free beers as possible. The people love it so much that the staff have to work hard to get the masses off the boat again when we dock, and drunken passengers bedecked in sailor hats, feel wary of the land.
Gal Go at De Doelen
On Saturday, we learnt how versatile a saxophone can be. From the carnage of Y, we move to the calm of Gal Go and his drummer, moving through various shades of jazz, from the serene to the loose and free. It’s an ambient change of pace.
It feels like a pocket to relax in. The days at Left Of The Dial slip away fast, and as storm Benjamin set back in with intense force, the warmth of De Doelen and the intricacy of the music was like a cosy hug, wrapping up with a reimagined take on Velvet Underground’s ‘I Found A Reason’.
Molly Payton at Arminius
Molly Payton already has the voice of an angel, so seeing her play the looming gothic church felt right. It stands out as a real highlight of the festival, honouring its ethos of embracing chaos and finding perfect, serendipitous moments along the way.
Backed with her full band, the contrasts were delicious. Her voice moves in a second between softness and power, just as her songs also sway between pure rock and roll into more folky, or even country-tinged flourishes.
In the end, though, it’s a weepy affair. Finishing solo with a new song written about her mother, who lives back home in New Zealand. It feels as though the entire crowd’s eyes are watering as one.
Bouncing about – Roscoe Roscoe, Big Long Sun, Cowboy Hunters
After you’ve done the trek up to the other side of town, everything is easy. In one building, all on one corner, there are several venues, and on Saturday evening, with incredible lineups on at each, the decision is too hard to make. So why pick just one?
Within the space of an hour or so, we dip between three places, catching some of Roscoe Roscoe where the singer is playing his guitar with a violin bow. Big Long Sun deliver strength in numbers as the Brighton band seems to have sunshine bottled, despite the storm outside. Cowboy Hunters pull off a great prank as they get their crowd begging for an encore, only to hit play on the Cha Cha Slide and then cut it, with the singer’s Scottish accent delivering deadpan – “what the fuck are yous doing?”
All roads lead to Rotown
Every night has ended here in Rotown, the epicentre of the event. The street outside is the place you’re bound to bump into the friends gathered over the weekend.
As lame as it might be, that’s the highlight. People love to write about smiling faces in festival crowds, talking about places like Glastonbury as if they’re meccas that happy people flock to with an unwanted sense of vapidity. But Left Of The Dial feels like the real deal. Everyone, it seems, is having a great time.
With amenities all sorted, the bands are enjoying themselves. The ticket holders are bouncing from place to place with event-held activities, silly enough to keep everybody locked in. As the two inevitably mingle, the sense of togetherness feels impossible to avoid; you bump into it with every new or old friend you make along the road to the next show. That’s the glory of the grassroots that we need to protect.
