Wide Awake 2025: Kneecap triumph as festival battles adversity to prove its importance to DIY talent
There may as well have been a full moon at Wide Awake Festival last night. As the sun began to dip beyond the London skyline, a swell of anticipation bubbled to the surface. Celtic jerseys and Irish flags came out in droves as Kneecap’s first headline show and first major UK appearance since Mo Chara’s terrorism controversy came ever closer.
It was a feeling that bordered on excitement, curiosity, and, dare I say, nervousness for what was going to be a historic moment in music. But the nervousness was soon squashed, for their entrance to the stage was emotionally emphatic, and I was swiftly reminded that, regardless of whether it is only a day long and in the capital city, the insides of festival walls always foster a positive atmosphere of community and morality.
The backstory aside, the trio was an unlikely headliner for the festival. Despite their capture of an alternative zeitgeist, sonically, they are a departure from the previous bill-topping alumni. Distorted riffs gave way to electronic beats as the Irish hip-hop trio brazenly delivered their lo-fi brand of rap. But somewhere in the storm of publicity that has come from their film and activism, their artistry has perhaps been subsumed.
In the opening 45 minutes of the set, the leading vocalists proved their cadence and timbre deserved merit of their own. When delivered with the rhythmic punch of their native Irish language, it is undeniably captivating to watch. Their punchy passion has a potency that actually helps to park the political hysteria surrounding them and ropes you into the melody.
Despite the obvious genre switch for the festival headliner, the band felt like a fitting end to the day. They seemed to be a moral representation of the entire bill. Throughout the day, several artists dropped the name of the Belfast trio in a showing of solidarity, in a day that was buoyed by the excitement of festival season beginning again and laced with the angst of a more general global context, their presence seemed apt.
But the success of the event was not tied to this ‘headline’ performance in every sense. While day festivals have sporadically begun throughout spring, there’s something innately ceremonial about Wide Awake’s essence. As though the starting gun for the summer had been officially fired, there was a palpable energy of excitement and primality within the behaviour of fans and bands alike.
During our post-show interviews with Warmduscher and Gurriers, the group’s were beaming with an upbeat energy, remarking on the excitement of playing in front of festival crowds once again. Those on stage corroborated the general mood on the ground, which fluctuated between silliness, irreverence and primality—it was clear, festival season had begun. And this festival season may well be more politically fervent than ever before.
While ambient experimentalist Yuuf kicked off humble proceedings in The Shacklewell Arms tent, with an appropriate sense of lucidity, it was the opening siren call of Donny Benet’s ‘Mr Experience’ that got the first big cheer of the day and granted permission for fans to start moving. Soon after, Warmduscher continued to cement their reputation as a raucously enigmatic live band, managing to retain the texturality of their standout 2024 record while pushing it to the brink of chaos in the live adaptation.
As their star continues to rise, Getdown Services pulled another enormous crowd to the rather pokey Grove DIY Stage, raising questions to any bookers in the crowd about their suitability for smaller stages at festivals now. But the highlight of the day was undoubtedly the English Teacher. Their show is packed with ideas and juxtaposing melodies, almost to the point of being high-brow and arthouse, but it’s delivered with a vibrant smile, compelling showmanship and a truly generational voice in Lily Fontaine. The group also shared their own political message that might not have been quite as incendiary as others, but perhaps that level of thoughtful measure is what the world needs.
Ultimately, it was another success story for a festival continually staring down a barrel of hurdles. The looming issue of Brockwell Park’s eligibility as a venue felt prescient this year, for what Wide Awake has that other day festivals don’t is a compelling layout. I’ve been to far too many that just simply plonk two stages in a field, and lazily craft a map through a pathway of food stalls. Instead, Wide Awake hides stages in the nooks and crannies of Brockwell Park, to give them each a sense of individual character and separation from the rest of the festival, akin to the sort of feeling you get at major weekend events.
But the drop in footfall felt equally noticeable. The simple fact of attracting people to an event on a weekday in a crippling cost-of-living crisis can’t be ignored, and if Wide Awake were to buckle under the strain of something as predictable as that, it would be a great shame. Because, as I bounced around from stage to stage yesterday, I was struck by the thought that this festival is crucial to the alternative circuit.
Not quite as big as the weekenders, but bigger than the other day festivals, it is one of the most vibrant and important showcases of unfiltered up-and-coming talent. And as Jeremy Corbyn quite poignantly said yesterday as he delivered a speech on the main stage, “If there are no music venues, then where will the artists of tomorrow play?”
