A shimmering late‑summer haze hung over the Cotswolds as The Big Feastival returned to Alex James’s farm for its 15th August Bank Holiday celebration of music, food and family fun. Even the occasional rain shower couldn’t dampen the mood. People drifted between stages and street‑food stalls with that familiar Feastival resilience — a rhythm of colour, community and carefree wandering.
We arrived on Friday evening, checked in with the press team and took a wander around the site, which felt comfortingly familiar after last year. Paella in hand, we headed to the main stage where White Lies delivered a storming set. Over in The Cheese Hub, Geronimo was already in full techno‑tilt mode, his entourage punching the air behind him like a choreographed cheer squad.
Antony Szmierek drew a huge crowd, his sophomore album Decoding Birdsong sounding immense as it rolled across the fields. We caught half of Perrie’s pop‑bright performance before looping back to The Cheese Hub for Jamz Supernova, who kept the energy high with a killer DJ set.
On the way out, a packed silent disco was in full swing — younger festivalgoers dancing like they’d been handed the keys to the night while their parents mingled nearby, enjoying a rare break from everyday life.
And just when it felt like Friday couldn’t get any bigger, Basement Jaxx stepped up to close the night. Not the full band — they disbanded many moons ago — but the two core members delivered a DJ set that hit with the precision of seasoned craftsmen. Exotic dancers flanked the stage, the crowd was absolutely up for it, and the whole arena went off like a firework as they weaved classic track after classic track into one seamless, high‑energy rush. Sing‑alongs were mandatory, and the audience didn’t need asking twice. They delivered, and then some.
Full bellies, ringing ears and happy hearts — Friday set the tone beautifully.
Saturday arrived with rain, so instead of cooking under an umbrella at the back of the van, we drove to Bourton‑on‑the‑Water for a cosy breakfast. The place was heaving, so we didn’t linger — we had serious festivalling to get back to.
We just missed Mister Tumble, but having watched plenty of him when our kids were small, I wasn’t too heartbroken. Next up were She’s in Parties, a London/Essex four‑piece we’d interviewed the week before. Their indie‑alt‑rock blend cut straight through the gloom and kept the crowd fully engaged.
Geronimo and his Nepo crew were once again raising the roof in The Cheese Hub — at this point, you’d think he was related to the festival owner.
Ms Dynamite lit up the main stage, shouting out her “old skool” UK Garage fans and rolling through classics that haven’t aged a day. She looked incredible and sounded even better.
Then came The Cuban Brothers, who delivered a riot of music, dance and comedy — breakdancing, outrageous tributes, Miguel’s cheeky humour, even a world‑record conga attempt. At one point Miguel was down to a tiger‑print codpiece, leading the crowd with fearless, absurd showmanship. Chaotic, joyful, unforgettable.
Devon’s own TORS followed with soaring harmonies and an indie‑folk/Americana blend that hit the crowd right in the heart. Fresh off a well‑received EP and working on their debut album, they played with real warmth and won plenty of new fans.
We missed Riding The Low, Paddy Considine’s band, but I’ve no doubt they packed out The Outpost.
We did catch Barrioke — Shaun Williamson (Barry from EastEnders) leading a karaoke free‑for‑all that shouldn’t work on paper but absolutely does. The place was rammed, the sign‑up list closed early, and Barry’s version of Amarillo was genuinely brilliant.
The Streets turned Saturday night into a full‑blown communal roar. Mike Skinner was sharp as ever, and the crowd matched him word for word. Fit But You Know It became a massive sing‑along, while Blinded By The Lights washed over the arena like a nostalgic wave. The lightshow was huge — strobes, sweeps, colour bursts — perfectly framing Skinner’s trademark delivery. Arms up, voices loud, everyone locked in. A swaggering, triumphant headline set.
Dinner came courtesy of The Larderhouse — a pork wrap with pickled veg, BBQ potatoes and cabbage cooked to perfection. Full and happy, we headed back to camp.
Sunday dawned dry, so we cooked breakfast in the van and headed back in for day three.
The Rosadocs opened the main stage with chirpy alt‑indie energy that shook off any lingering sleepiness. A broken guitar string led to an unplanned acoustic moment that worked beautifully. With a big tour ahead, they’re well worth checking out.
We wandered past The Cheese Hub — Geronimo again, throwing shapes. Maybe the same set as Friday and Saturday, maybe not. Either way, the younger crowd loved it.
Nubiyan Twist brought a magnetic afternoon set — hip hop, soul, funk, horns, samples, velvet vocals — the kind of performance that pulls passers‑by in until they’re fully hooked.
Simon Pegg took over The Cheese Hub next, and judging by the familiar beats, Geronimo may have left him a USB stick. It was rammed, so we slipped away to catch Freya Ridings, who delivered a spellbinding, cinematic performance. Her voice soared, her presence filled the arena, and every crescendo landed perfectly.
A last‑minute interview with Red Rum Club was a joy — festival food, dream lineups, future plans, and the trip back to Liverpool all covered in ten minutes. Sharp, funny, and clearly riding the high of a great set.
After one final wander — and one last oyster from The Larderhouse — we started to pack up for the weekend.
Bastille closed the festival with a huge, euphoric headline set. Pompeii’s chant rolled across the arena, Happier and Things We Lost in the Fire sparked massive sing‑alongs, and the lightshow was immense. Dan Smith, fresh from doctor‑ordered vocal rest, sounded incredible — emotional, powerful, completely in command. A perfect finale to a packed weekend.
We came, we saw, we danced, we ate, we tip‑toed through Saturday’s slush, and we loved every minute. Roll on 2027 — tickets will be on sale soon, so head to the Feastival newsletter to be first in line.
