Gilles Peterson’s Dorset festival We Out Here brought a dazzling range of thought-provoking storytellers to the fore.
“Necessary music” – that’s how one fan labelled the thoughtful, politicised storytelling of Saturday’s Lush Life stage headliner Bashy, shouting from the crowd as the MOBO-winning rapper spun intricate yarns about immigration, family, money, and belonging. The phrase grabbed Bashy’s attention, boiling down his role as a galvanising social commentator into two words. It’s a phrase that you could apply to a number of artists on the bill at We Out Here 2025.
Gilles Peterson’s festival – created in 2019 and named after a Brownswood Recordings release that spotlighted high flyers within London’s flourishing jazz scene – is exactly the kind of eclectic, thoughtfully curated event you’d expect from such a respected musical tastemaker. Staged in Wimborne St Giles, Dorset, it hosts afrobeats innovators, hip-hop heavyweights from both sides of the Atlantic, legends of UK sound system culture; what connects each standout performer is a commitment to speaking about the troubled world we live in, and the role music plays in offering people respite.
Whether it’s Wet Collective leading chants of ‘Free Palestine’, or Channel One MC Ras Kayleb calling out over his sound system’s booming bass, “We’re sending a message to the leaders of the world, we need no war, we need peace and justice,” there’s an engagement with the world outside, and a commitment to making We Out Here a safe and comfortable space for everyone.
Family activities, creative spaces, and additions like the swimming lake (slightly more grubby and less idyllic than it sounds) help the atmosphere, as does the fierce sun that beats down all weekend. The aggression or unfriendliness you get in certain festival crowds is nowhere to be seen, and the artists respond in kind: “This might be the most beautiful festival we’ve ever played,” Loyle Carner tells the crowd toward the end of his Sunday night headline slot, filling in for Michael Kiwanuka (sadly absent due to illness) with grace and composure.
We Out Here’s jazz and soul line-up is a given, with artists like Emma-Jean Thackray and Nubiyan Twist offering flavours of the festival’s roots, while up-and-coming jazz artists get plenty of space to shine at the Tomorrow’s Warriors tent (named after the influential group committed to offering accessible jazz tuition to young people in London). But even more noticeable is the emphasis placed on showcasing talented, unique rap and hip-hop acts this year.
Chicago rapper Noname strolls through her Thursday night performance with a warm, effortless style, while on Friday Pa Salieu lights up the main stage with his fiery blend of rap, afrobeat, and electronic influences. His live rendition of street anthem ‘Frontline’, teased by a haunting trumpet line, is emphatic, his decision to bring family members onstage for closer ‘My Family’ poignant. Bashy, meanwhile, guides his crowd through a rich, vivid musical history charting reggae, lover’s rock, soul and jungle, before delivering crowd-pleaser ‘Sticky’ over a dazzling sequence of old-school grime instrumentals.
Homage is paid to Black British musical heritage across the weekend, not least in The Bowl, a magic stage tucked inside a dusty, cavernous pit at the edge of the site, where the crowd bounces as a unit and the punters perched on the steep hills around the perimeter skank on a slant. DJs like Shy One, Jamz Supernova, and Aba-Shanti-I all bring different qualities and sound palates to their sets, and each unite The Bowl as one.
Perhaps the only place that consistently rivals it in terms of pure positive energy is Love Dancin, a small tent sandwiched between larger stages that’s consistently filled with the happiest-seeming people on earth. A Latin funk bop here, a garage two-step there, it doesn’t matter: everyone’s here to boogie, judgement free. Spaces like Love Dancin highlight UK festival culture at its best, and its atmosphere was reflected across Wimborne St Giles all weekend. We Out Here 2025 delivered positivity and solidarity at a time when people seriously need it, and for that we should be grateful.
Words – Fred Garratt-Stanley
