On performing at a festival

I’ve performed at my fair share of festivals in the past. I’ve done smaller local festivals like Strawberry Fair in Cambridge, Folk East in Lowestoft, and Gate to Southwell in Nottinghamshire, as well as bigger festivals like WOMAD and Bestival on the Isle of Wight. 

It’s always a really nice atmosphere performing at a festival – everyone’s having a good time, and the vibes are (usually) immaculate.

Naturally, most people go to music festivals for the music, but I’ve been to festivals that have had morning yoga workshops, space science lectures, vegan cooking demonstrations and even line dancing classes!

And, of course, a little bit of spoken word. 

Shambala festival started life in the 1990s, when five friends met at uni and decided to put on weekend music events for their mates. By the early 2000s, the events were attracting a couple of hundred likeminded people each year, and by 2007, the festival was a full-time job for its organisers. 

The name Shambala derives from the Swahili word for field “Shamba”, and the festival has been going for twenty-five years now. It’s a fiercely independent organisation with a real hippy vibe – no corporate sponsorship, lots of room for left-wing activism, super eco-friendly, and with loads of cool things to see and do.

This year, my friends and I were invited to perform at the Phantom Laundry, Shambala’s spoken word tent, as part of our podcast series for We, The Poets. 

So, on a sunny August morning, I picked up my fellow poets Charley Genever and Keely Mills, and we trundled down the A14 to an undisclosed location, armed with only our words, the clothes on our backs, and a packet of ginger biscuits!

We arrived and I instantly felt completely under-dressed – Shambala has a big reputation for fancy dress, and participants take this REALLY seriously! 

But the sun was shining, the people were smiling, and the scent of weed smoke drifted languidly across our path and we entered the festival. 

It was time for some poetry! 

The Phantom Laundry is run by Leicester-based poet John Berkovitch, who does a bang-up job curating a mix of big-name performers and emerging talent. It was lovely to see some familiar faces in the green room out the back, and we had the absolute privilege of performing directly after Lemn Sissay on the Saturday afternoon. 

In fact, you might say that Lemn was our warm-up act. 

You’d be dead wrong to say that, but you could say it, all the same. 

The We, The Poets takeover was scheduled for 1:40pm, and there were five of us performing: Mark Grist, Jay Sandhu, Keely, Charley and me. We each had 15 minutes of stage, which sounds like a long time, but actually flies by when you’re up there. 

And we totally smashed it! Jay’s poetry was rhythmic and hard-hitting, talking about growing up South Asian in a country that doesn’t always respect your identity. Keely’s work was gentle and compassionate, and delivered with such warmth and wisdom. And Charley was a fierce, fiery and funny ball of energy. Mark’s compèring really held the show together, and it was such a thrill to see a crowd of at least 60 people in the tent, all of whom stayed for the entire show. 

I performed a couple of new pieces (including this one) and I was really pleased with how the whole thing went down. 

There’s just something so magical about getting to share your work in front of an audience, and it had been so long since I’d performed that I’d almost forgotten that magic. 

Plus, we took a load of photos of us all puling faces, which, I think you’ll agree, is the most important part of any performer’s day!

We’ll be chatting about the experience of performing at the festival in an upcoming podcast, so if you haven’t already checked out our back-catalogue, now’s the time to do it. You can find us on Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.