09 July 2022 (gig)
18 July 2022
Sometimes, the essence of a place oozes out of every pore. The people, the music, the restaurants, the general atmosphere – they all embody what makes a place what it is. This festival, in the leafy suburb of Moseley in Birmingham, is a case in point.
I last visited Moseley Park for the Moseley Folk Festival. That was in 2012. And it was as beautiful a day back then as it is today. The sun’s beaming, the music’s soulful, funky and upbeat, and the people are very happy. Good vibes all around.
After a grabbing a pint from the drink bit (as I ended up creatively naming it), my girlfriend and I pottered straight down the hill – where you get great views of the main stages in front and the lake behind – to the Leftfoot Takeover tent for Horsemeat Disco.
Now, it might have only been 4pm, but Brummies don’t give a shit. And neither did we. They were throwing everything at it, with all their best – and worst – moves manifesting in shapes all across the dance floor. It was a real tone setter for the day.
We were involved in no time. The London DJ quartet were dropping grooves and vibes like it was going out of fashion. And, hey, it might well be. But no one cares. This is what the world needs more of right now. We all became one joyous organism.
From there, we hit the food bit – creative – for pizza, then onto grab a cocktail. Now, here’s one of only two gripes from the day: the queue for a mojito and long island iced tea was 45 minutes. Not cool. But the drinks were good, so we got over it.
Suitably sated, we made our way to the front for Oh My God! It’s The Church. Having seen them once or twice before, I was bloody excited. They’re the ultimate festival experience, as far as I’m concerned, anyway.
And they didn’t disappoint. From the moment they take to the stage, it’s biblical. Not literally. Their energy is powered by the “love” and energy of the aptly named “Sexy Jesus” – a fictional character to whom they show praise (sound familiar) their set was a 50 minute romp of inuendo and outright filth.
The whole thing, though, is all wrapped up in great musicianship, performance and a healthy dose of friendly antagonism – wink wink, nudge nudge And listen: watching these guys is an “experience”. My girlfriend described it as “cleansing”. Not sure what she’s been up to? Ahem.
From here, we switched to the festival’s second stage for Craig Charles. Cue gripe number two: the festival has more picnic blankets, laid out by guests, than it does attendees. I get it, it’s a relaxed vibey day. But when the room for standing punters, who want a dance, gets limited to about 10 rows deep, there’s an issue. Again, I got over it. Kind of.
Sadly, the legendary Mr Charles was absent. Sad times. Thankfully though, Bristol’s Boca47 stepped in to entertain the masses. And he did. At one point, as the crowd were right at it, having a right good time, he cheekily asked whether we were still disappointed he showed up. His set was like if Mr Scruff played full tunes, instead of bits. All bangers. All the way.
When he finished, we decided to get in on some of that sitting down malarkey. It was nice. We grabbed another bite – me a halloumi kebab; her a fajita-filled burrito – and caught some of the headliner The Fatback Band. It was good, but the songs didn’t quite hit the spot after the impact of Horsemeat Disco, Oh My God! It’s The Church, and Boca47.
Regardless, the crowds were loving it. And love was well and truly in the air. That Moseley vibe was porous by now, and it was hard to leave feeling anything but happiness. Can I spend every weekend ever in a field with great music, people and good vibes? Almost forgot what it felt like…
