Punk spirit triumphs over the mud in derbyshire, with huge sets from English Teacher, Lambrini Girls, BDRMM and more showcasing the best lineup of the summer:
Four days (five, for the hardcore) in the fields of Derbyshire infused with punk, beer, mud and the odd patch of sunshine. HOWL arrived on site early Thursday, and after a battle through the churned-up sludge the accreditation is secured, the Howl tent is up (with some help from kind strangers) and the first of many, many value-lagers are cracked.
The considerable rain from Wednesday has turned much of the site into paste early doors, but that doesn’t phase a single soul: the weather has meant that bands scheduled to perform at The Woodlands stage are transferred to other areas of the site, and mercifully the Sprtins and Soft Play clash has disappeared. The former are now lined up on the main stage just before the latter.
Sprints' Karla Chubb takes the main stage by storm
Sprints take their space on the ginormous Pallet stage with the assuredness of headliners: despite a stand-in guitarist and the lineup mixup, Sprints play a blinder on the main stage. There’s a strong turnout for the Irish punks, and the band make their presence known with a simply stunning Thursday night show. Big, brash, loud and emotive, the band inspire some chaotic pits in the mud: people hit the deck left right and centre, but there is always a hand from above to drag them back to their wellied-feet.
Before long it’s headliner time: Soft Play are in the fields, and despite being spotted earlier covering their trainers with bin bags to navigate the backstage mud, the pair look bang up for some hijinks in the swamp. Soft Play are loud and the duo create an incredible atmosphere for their set. They lean hard into the punkier end of their discography, their old gear works wonders with the new, and cuts like ‘Punks Dead’, ‘Mirror Muscles’ and an unnamed, unreleased number are gigantic. They both make their way to the barrier, but only Isaac ventures into the crowd: he emerges with some mud-war-paint, and the pair play out their headline slot in style, giving credit to their “drunkest ever audience”.
Isaac Holman of Soft Play takes flight on Thursday night
Friday rolls around fast, and the mud remains but Bearded’s lineup relents: some of the best modern bands in British music are taking to the various stages today. We kick off early with the power rock trio Hotwax, who bring ginormous riffs and tassel jackets to the fields: the three members make considerable noise on the main stage, and their tracks are sharp, punchy and dripping in fuzz. Before you even get a moment to catch your breath, Pip Blom take to the Pallet stage and the Dutch trio are on fantastic form: their set is comprised of almost entirely new material, which has taken the band down a funky, dance-electronica route. The funk brings movement to aching joints and punters gleefully dance away their (our) hangovers.
We’re straight over to The Meadow, a giant blue big-top stage that protrudes above the treeline for the set of the weekend. Brighton’s Lambrini Girls storm the gaff with sensational, chunky, in-your-face punk tunes. The band are a bass and guitar duo, with a drummer to boot: they play a balls-to-the-wall set of rage punk, with the duo chastising TERFs, gammons, flag shaggers and any other problematic shithouse they fancy taking to the cleaners. Vocalist Pheobe Lunny is into the crowd from the first minute, orchestrating the pits like a conductor: she has this fabulous knack of inciting absolute chaos before slipping through a gap in the crowd to safety. She leads numerous choruses of “fuck TERFS”, “fuck the Tories”, “David Cameron fucks pigs” and more. It’s not all fun and games though, and the band backs up their on-stage politics with an important message about Rafah and the Palestinian struggle. The pair are gleeful in causing circle pit carnage, and Lunny ends the show two-thirds of the way up a structural tent pole.
Pheobe Lunny expressing her feelings towards TERFs
Panic Shack bring a similar level of punky energy to the same stage: they emerge wearing parody ‘Safe Gigs For Women’ tees, with a ‘dangerous gigs for men’, message. They’re a quality outfit, and some time away from the stage has given them space to seriously grow and evolve as a band. They’re muscular, powerful and honed in a brand new way and their new tunes are a cut above the quality work they have already produced (“I didn’t go to BRIT school, I went to tit school”, is a highlight). There are huge things on the horizon for Panic Shack.
Panic Shack showcasing their choreographed moves
The rest of the day plays out in style: The Big Moon deliver a gorgeous set of sunshine indie pop bangers, and the incendiary Bob Vylan delivers a show of immense magnitude. BV are crazy loud, and they provide a performance befitting of headliners in the early evening. Future Islands fill the headliner's slot, delighting revellers with an era-defining mix of bangers.
Eventually the mud becomes something of a character in the grand pantomime of a festival: just as bright pink necks and bucket hats, or warm lager become a staple of a sunshine-soaked weekend, the mud eventually develops its own charm. We laugh as wellies slide off feet in sludge, or your mate stacks it in a mosh pit: it becomes something greater than itself, and you kind of grow to love it, throughout a weekend.
Bob Vylan delivering a headline-worthy set in the early evening
The sun makes a cameo on Saturday, and as Goat Girl takes on the main stage, there is even a suggestion of sunglasses, a rumour of short sleeves and a whisper of suncream. Alas, Divorce pull out late, but The Meffs and Do Nothing make themselves known with stellar sets. The performance of the day goes to BDRMM, though - their shoegazey post-rock fills the tent so well, with massive fuzzy riffs and instrumentals bouncing off the canvas of the big-top. Simply put, they are ethereal, magical and wonderful. There is an early evening set of ferocity from Bristolian punks Menstrual Cramps, who are full of piss and vinegar: they are the truest embodiment of punk as they rally behind queer and feminist causes, emphasize their commitment to workers rights and make a huge call for action to free Palestine.
Jane's Addiction provide the Saturday night headline entertainment, and with the original lineup back, the band play out an eras set packed with their best work. The alternative entertainment comes in the form of Orbital, whose electronic psychedelia is quite something to behold. The festival sprawls out into the night, and there are several dance stages, tents for punk, queer discos and bars blasting rock hits: whether you’re surfing channels at the silent disco, or singing Beatles covers in the wee hours on a piano, guitar and violin manned by a rotating cast of strangers from a small wooden area (the name of which somehow escaped my drunken notes). You are so aware that you’re living the best possible festival life here. It’s soul food, plain and simple, and there is little else like it in the world.
BDRMM storming a Saturday evening slot
Sunday is the pièce de résistance of Bearded, and the lineup is simply sensational. New Yorkers Bodega smash an early main stage set, before heading to the gorgeously chill Woodlands stage for an astonishing set of Bob Dylan (yes Dylan, not Vylan) covers. English Teacher are a well-oiled machine of art-punk wonder, and they delight the Meadow with angular, emotional music. Before you can get a moment for a coffee, a beer or a kip we’re off to BIG SPECIAL for a full-force blast of punk poetry from the Birmingham duo. They are quite phenomenal, and BIG SPECIAL steal the show on Sunday. Dry Cleaning are a major addition to the bill, and a different flavour of punk poetry shines through the grey clouds. The day, and the festival is closed out in supreme style: the unrivalled double play of Amyl & The Sniffers then Bater Dury is one of the best bookings of any festival this summer.
Lily Fontaine of English Teacher performing on Sunday
Despite the mud, Bearded Theory is a sensational success: they have broken free of the cut-and-paste lineups plaguing most UK festivals with punk rage, to huge acclaim. The sheer delight of a weekend in a field without hearing a single note from The Kooks is nothing but a triumph.
✍️ Charlie Brock
📷 Tom Sunderland
📷 Tom Sunderland