What began as a humble jazz gathering in the year 1955 became perhaps the leading force in the United Kingdom’s entertainment calendar.
From humble beginnings as the Beaulieu Jazz Festival, catered out of Reading, the past fifty years have been marked by a wild and rapid transformation. Over the decades, it ascended into a rite of passage for festival-goers, boasting some of the biggest names in music history. It’s a cavalcade of favourites; a stamped ticket to say you’ve been to the farm or you’ve been to the house, and seen the biggest acts in all of their grandeur.
With its evolution comes the ever-changing popularity of music genres. It is easy to take a glimpse at some of the headliners and realise what kind of music was considered the hot topic of the year. With such a rich history, you can not argue the integrity and the awesomeness of over fifty years of festivals. One could even argue that it is beyond just Britain these days, with fans glamping from all over the world to stay over and bear witness to larger- than-life icons in the flesh.
The days of Reading saw them all – The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, The Jam, The Police, Peter Gabriel, Thin Lizzy, Alice Cooper, Nirvana, Pixies, Smashing Pumpkins, Oasis, The Prodigy & Beastie Boys…to name just a few.
In 1999, the organisers at Reading Festival listened to the outburst of demand from concertgoers and music fanatics, bringing about the introduction of what we know today assimply “Leeds Festival”.
And what an expansion it was – the new millennium brought an ever-flowing demand for outdoor music festivals, with the tickets selling out quicker and quicker. From 2002, Leeds Festival took on the reins of the Bramham Park, where not far from it sits the wondrous baroque country mansion, built in 1698.
Its beauty sits in the background, overwatching all. It too has witnessed everything in the past twenty-three years: Foo Fighters, Guns N’ Roses, Metallica, Pearl Jam, Rage Against The Machine, The Killers, Kings of Leon, Arctic Monkeys, Radiohead, My Chemical Romance, Muse, Eminem, Mumford & Sons, Paramore, Queens of the Stone Age, The 1975, Post Malone, Foals…again, just to name a fair few.
2025 looked to be no different, as Leeds Living hooked up with the fine folk from Zeitgeist Agency, in cooperation with Festival Republic, to provide an unforgettable weekend of coverage. I had the pleasure of missioning out to Wetherby to take a gander – and what a luxurious visit it was. You cannot fault the organisers for providing a royal service to those of us in the press. A completely transparent, visible and friendly team with all of the resources one could ever ask. All weekend long the press tent was bursting with creatives from across the media stratosphere. Working feverishly with their laptops and camera equipment, its an experience like no other.
You can say the same for all of the vendors, security guards, marshals, stewards, controllers and drivers. They were a fleet in themselves, and made the whole experience flow like clockwork. Arriving at around noon on the Saturday, I had never seen anything like it: the roaring traffic down the motorway going as far back as Wetherby and Leeds both ways. I cannot fault the bus drivers and traffic controllers for their service.
Due to work commitments, it sounded like I missed quite the evening on the Friday – headlined by Travis Scott, it sounded like I’d missed something exceptional.
The weather was dry, though the clouds were aplenty by the time I rocked up. I made it just in time to see The Royston Club, a band I unfortunately missed back at Live at Leeds In The City, the mighty Wrexham Wanderers travelled down to bring the excitement with a half-hour of rampant hits from their two albums. “The Patch Where Nothing Grows” particularly has become a frequent listen on Spotify, and it was glorious to hear them play it out to open a tone-setting set.
From there, it was over to Bloc Party, which brought the chills of their performance at Live at Leeds In The Park. From Temple Newsam, the original home of Leeds Festival, all the way over to Bramham Park, I would be remiss in saying that it sounded like it got better as the set progressed. It doesn’t matter where you see them, or how old you are, there is nothing like the guitars heard in “Helicopter” that really gets your heart thumping.
It was wonderful also to see The Kooks, going strong after a seasoned twenty-one years in existence. The Brighton rock band dialled it back to the 1960s influence with their melodic and punky vibes, packing a punch with each classic. I never thought I’d have the delight of hearing “Do You Wanna” in person, a personal achievement I was thrilled to be there for.
Then came the highlight of my day, much to the jealousy of my partner Kelly – Chappell Roan on the main stage! After constant pleading from her I captured “Hot to Go” on her behalf, but as someone who never had too much to say about their music before this night, it was truly sensational. As theatrical as it was anticipated, the lead singer took the stage, descending a magical Tudoresque staircase in full get-up. The stylistics were not lost on me: similarities between this fairytale classic and that to be expected of another rising act, The Last Dinner Party.
Chappell Roan’s fanbase is a passionate bunch, and arguably was the busiest set all afternoon. Naturally, all one could see for miles was the abundance of the bold pink fluffy cowboy hats and drag queen homages, and as the big screens repeatedly showed starstruck spectators in the first row, this was the night of their absolute lives. Tears flowed, boogies jived, and hearts were full, as Chappell Roan provided a once-in-a-lifetime performance.
I zipped on over to see Mannequin Pussy on the Festival Republic Stage afterwards, with the symbolism of feminism on full vibrant display. A longtime fan of theirs, the Philadelphia punk outfit played some of the absolute best for almost an entire new audience. As singer Missy Dabice called out to first-time listeners, the ratio of hands went up by a longshot when answering that they’d never seen the guys before. There was something so captivating about her delivery between songs – the ability to speak so softly and so powerfully. With a sense of eroticism to her tone, paired with her rebellious shouts, her stage presence in itself is a unique, breathtaking experience. If you’ve never listened to them, “I Got Heaven” is a phenomenal record.
That same thing can be said about High Vis. The four moshers from London really brought representation from the practice rooms to the big dance. Doing the UK hardcore movement justice, it had taken me long enough to finally get around to seeing the hard-working lads. With a bunch of shoutouts to similar bands that I and maybe a select few would know of, my personal belief is that they were the potential breakout stars of the weekend. Loud, proud, in- charge, and for-the-people as well as by-the-people, High Vis crafted an audience in one forty minute set, which ended with half of the crowd moving. Whether a fan of the style or not, it felt very rewarding to someone who has been a part of the hardcore punk scene for many, many years.
As the night drew towards a close, I took the time to walk around and make note of all of the different vendors and facilities the festival made available. From hot dogs to candy floss; burgers to dirty fries; cheese to vapes…and Old Spice? I couldn’t fault the wide variety. Between that and the carnival rides on display, while you would never catch me on the ginormous Booster ride or the equally massive tower rides, there was something that bit extra for the thrill- seekers out there.
I closed my night passing by Hozier, bringing the soul from County Wicklow, Ireland to Leeds Fest. Peaceful and emotionally-powered, many were captivated by moving speeches about the current political climate. A relaxing and inspired comedown saw Hozier close the main stage before a huge crowd, in support of his sermons between the songs.
The journey home was more adventurous than the venture there – with the chill of the late summer’s night sweeping over the park, I was able to make my way home thanks to some lovely fellow festivalgoers. Nice enough to drive me a little bit closer to my home in Rodley, some hour or so away, they really went the extra mile. Nice people.
My head hit the pillow on Sunday morning at 3:13am. Processing every single moment that took place that day, I came to the realization that this was just the half of it – in a few short hours, there was even more fun to come.
Main image by Sam McMahon – The Chapell Roan crowd.
Leeds Living apologises for the limited range of images in our Leeds Festival articles. Our future music reviews will bring you our usual standards of variety and number.
