The first rule of FOMO is you can’t go to everything. Or perhaps, seeing as we are all one – as I’m sure free-flowing hippie and afternoon wonder act Joss Stone would agree – we just need to dissolve into the Love Supreme vibe and we can be at all eight or so of its stages at once. Sadly, I didn’t achieve this gorgeous Downs-land nirvana and my FOMO was in full swing over this festival weekend. There were so many quality acts on offer I didn’t know which way to turn.
Most irritatingly of all I missed Romesh Ranganathan working his way through the history of Hip Hop on the tucked away Blue in Green stage. I’ve not even the excuse of being at an even more appealing act for this one. I simply forgot it was on. Rather than taking adult responsibility for this, I’m going to blame it on Love Supreme not putting up a weekend agenda board in the middle of the site as it has in the past. Apps are all well and good, but not when the signal is poor and I’ve had a couple of beers. To rub it in, the following morning a friend spent ages telling me how amazing Romesh was. She’s now buried six feet under the main stage. Please don’t tell anyone.
I come though to praise Love Supreme not to bury it. The festival has gone from strength to strength over the years and become an established – even must-go – midsummer staple. This year, sadly, there wasn’t a performance up to Little Symz’ spellbinding standard last year, but hey, there were many excellent acts and the usual nostalgia-fest options, not least Dionne Warwick who completely charmed the audience even though her voice is not quite what it was. Her star quality endures.
For me Love Supreme is more about the soul than the jazz. Relax cats, I do have my jazzy moments, but the truth is I’ve a taste for more dance-worthy fare. This year it came most notably in the über-spangly form of Kool and the Gang’s dancetastic mainstage extravaganza. If I hadn’t been so squashed by the milling throng up at the front I’d have thrown some of my best moves. Which, as it happens, I did do at the somewhat less well attended Funk Soul Brothers. I even got a compliment for my dancing. Admittedly it came from two women at the older age range of the audience. Quite possibly they had cataracts.
Talking of which, age not cataracts, it’s notable that while Love Supreme still attracts a primarily middle-aged audience, it’s gradually becoming younger and, indeed, cooler. Saturday headliner Olivia Dean even generated a bit of teenage screaming. What on earth are things coming to?! I almost fell out of my camping chair. Also notable is the growing mix of ethnicities amongst the crowd, which in my experience is often sadly lacking in the more stunningly situated rural festivals like this one.
As we know, English summers have become chillier and more rain sodden than in the imagined halcyon sun-drenched past, and unfortunately a fierce wind was added to these two horsemen of the weather apocalypse on the Saturday. I didn’t notice spirits dampening all that much though, other than perhaps my own, even with a few of the bar tents and smaller venues closed for safety reasons. Fortunately, the weather on Sunday approached reasonable, so any residual Saturday unpleasantness was soon forgotten. Shamefully this Saturday unpleasantness included me, as an unreconstructed oik, watching the England game. The festival didn’t arrange a screen, and I can’t blame them, so a woebegone posse of us stood in a bleak windswept field up above the festival watching a tiny screen and enduring 120 minutes of tedium (excepting the Saka goal) and, finally, a crowd-bonding climax of England winning on penalties. This all involved more FOMO, natch, as all sorts of musical excitement wafted up from below throughout this purgatory.
This is not a review of the acts, but rest assured they were many and varied. Something for everyone I’d say, and Love Supreme, for me, achieves that special festival mooching-around-and-chancing-upon-something amazing experience. There are also a couple of excellent dance venues, what looked like a very well run children’s area (I can’t vouch for this as I’d have been risking arrest), a fair few decent bars (although I wasn’t that enamoured by the quality of the beers), a small wellness area, a comedy and spoken word tent, loads of clothes and knick-knack shops, a huge variety of eating options, and various restricted ‘lounge’ areas for those forking out a bit more money for their ticket, likewise a glamping area. The main camping areas were of course fairly cramped, and in this case they got a good soaking, but overall they’re attractively set out and, miracle of miracles, this year there were no queues for the showers. I don’t know why this was – perhaps they had actually installed enough showers for everyone. Unheard of! Top marks whatever the reason.
All said and done Love Supreme isn’t the wildest of festivals, but it’s a heart-warming, beautifully-situated and highly enjoyable weekend of jazz and soul. It’s definitely worth checking out. I’m intending to be there again next year.
neildelstrother.co.uk
Published on 12 July 2024 by Neil del Strother
