Wide Awake Festival

Wide Awake Festival marked his half decade in controversial fashion, with the festival returning to Brockwell Park in divisive circumstances and coming close to not happening.

In the days leading up to the event, tensions flared as protests calling for the festival to be cancelled — largely due to concerns from a local protest group — mounted serious pressure on organisers and even won a High Court case with less than a week until the gates opened. There were accusations, calls to boycott, and a social media storm that, at times, felt like it could bring the whole thing crashing down.

But it finally went ahead though, and what followed was a cathartic, sun-drenched, and at times emotionally raw celebration that felt even more powerful for the battles fought just to be there.

One of the first artists to kick things off in glorious sunshine was Mermaid Chunky, whose main stage set was an early highlight. With their blend of theatrical art-pop and infectious rhythms, the duo felt tailor-made for the festival’s ethos: weird, wonderful, and defiantly fun. Their performance set the tone for a day that would swing between playful chaos and radical sincerity.

Later in the afternoon, Warmduscher drew a huge crowd, unleashing a set that was loose, loud, and impossible not to move to. Frontman Clams Baker Jr. worked the crowd with swagger, delivering their sleazy, high-energy sound like a preacher at a punk revival.

Over at The Grove DIY stage, meanwhile, Getdown Services delivered one of the standout performances of the weekend. Their electro-infused chaos barely fit within the confines of the stage, and the energy spilled well beyond the borders of the tent. Midway through their wild, sweat-drenched set, the atmosphere shifted as a surprise wedding proposal took place — a surreal but heartwarming moment that captured the magic of the festival’s more intimate corners.

As the evening deepened, CMAT brought her signature blend of country-pop, humour, and heartbreak to a captivated audience. Her performance was both emotionally resonant and joyfully camp, swinging between confessional ballads and wry bangers. For many, this was the point in the day where the festival hit its emotional stride.

With the sun beginning to dip behind the London skyline, Fat Dog exploded onto the stage, bringing a chaotic, buzzed-out energy that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Their set felt like a communal exorcism — part punk gig, part warehouse rave — and was perfectly timed to kick the night into overdrive.

But it was Kneecap who delivered the most powerful moments of the festival. The Irish rap trio, known for their politically charged lyrics and defiant stance, brought the night to a close with a mesmerising set. At one point, the music stopped, and the crowd fell silent as one of the group (who had one member being charged with terrorism offences) addressed the audience: “I know we're out, we're enjoying ourselves and we're trying to listen to some tunes at a festival... believe me, I wish I didn't have to do this, but the world's not listening. The world needs to see solidarity of 20,000 people in a park in London chanting, 'Free, free Palestine!’” The chant that followed was deafening, a spine-tingling reminder that Wide Awake has never been just about music. It’s about resistance, visibility, and the shared belief that art should speak truth to power — even when it's uncomfortable.

Wide Awake 2025 was messy, urgent, and unforgettable. The protests may have tried to shut it down, but what happened instead was a triumph of spirit — proof that music, when it’s at its best, still matters.