There was no better place to celebrate ‘Radio 6 Dad’ culture – and 50 years of hip hop – than Gilles Peterson’s We Out Here festival. Featuring Ezra Collective, Bonobo (in for Róisín Murphy), Nubya Garcia, Steamdown & P-Money, DJ Koze, Manara, Romare, Lady Lykez, Jehst, QuinzeQuinze, and some questionable ‘Business Inzestments’ at the Lemon Lounge.
In its fourth year, We Out Here is a vital yearly reminder that music, diversity, and shared experiences are what festivals should really be about. Located on the grounds of a stately home in Dorset, the four-day get-together had a line-up as wide-ranging as funk producers Jungle, poetic Parisian-Polynesian band QuinzeQuinze, and the ever-genre-bending Bonobo.
It was The Ezra Collective that truly stole the show. The ensemble’s performance was filled to the brim with their characteristic jubilant jazz, but taken to another level. It was punctuated with considered musings from drummer Femi Koleoso, who summarised the weekend: “They tell you this type of unity is impossible… But this festival proves that the things that bring us together are stronger than the things that divide us.”
Romare’s live set showcased the versatility of electronic music, an afternoon coalescence of euphoria and melancholia. And DJ Koze showed the crowd how he could adapt his signature sound, lighting up the spacially aware crowd with upbeat dancehall and lush hip-hop. QuinzeQuinze had to be the biggest new discovery, with their poetic, ‘club choon’ take on the Tahitian dance scene.
The absence of Róisín Murphy due to illness did initially disappoint, but Bonobo certainly didn’t do her a disservice. His DJ set (as always) showed his mastery of mesmeric soundscapes – deep cuts, big hits, and everything in between. He even gave a nod to Róisín, as he played a mix of Moloko – Bring it Back.
While the festival’s big stages offered up a big-hitting jazz, hip-hop, and electronic line-up, Lemon Lounge was our cozy, crowded little meeting point for the weekend, with day-time entertainment as well as smaller DJs huddled under its canopy.
DJ Manara’s set was a banger, fusing Punjabi garage music with clever pop mashups, and the odd hun culture reference.
Lemon Lounge was also a fun, creative hub. We tried the potato printing workshop on Thursday and could have spent several more hours at Bob (and) Ross’s paint-along sessions.
Lemon’s Den: Business Inzestments was an improv comedy show worth attending. Here, festival-goers had the opportunity to present their juiciest business ideas to a small audience. The pitches were surprisingly astute, funny, and silly yet well-considered. They included “Tinder for Fighting,” a hen racing league, and trousers equipped with a button that makes urine evaporate.
We Out Here was really about the music, and that made it special. More festivals need this level of vitality, sense of togetherness, depth of musical appreciation, and breadth of activity.
Róisín, see you there next year.
