BLEARY-EYED and crouched in the porch of my rickety tent, I write this filled with anticipation, as day two of Sussex’s Love Supreme festival looks set to continue with yesterday’s jovial atmosphere.
The three-day jazz and funk party is nestled in a slice of idyllic countryside in Glynde – in fact the last leg of my journey from the railway station to the site was completed in the back of a tractor trailer.
A bohemian feeling runs throughout the campsite. Everyone is calm, yet happy, as they crawl from their tents, mashing their shoeless feet in to the cool, dewy grass.
But accommodation aside, Love Supreme has already delivered.
Last night the air was filled with soulful vibes and gorgeous tones, while people got into the groove. The main stage was packed out, while the smaller venues drew crowds after something more obscure.
I’ve never seen a harpist look more at home as I did at 11pm last night. Everyone was having it, altogether. And the one pint I saw thrown look entirely out of place, like its owner had ended up here by mistake.
This is unlike any festival I have been to before, in that everyone is on the same page.
There are families here with small children, camping stoves left outside tents without fear they will be stolen during a midnight rampage. There are old school hippies who have swapped the muddy fields of Pilton for a yurt in the green pastures of Sussex. And, of course, there are those for whom this is their first festival experience – and what a great place for them to cut their teeth.
Today is going to be a good one – with almost everyone I have spoken to looking forward to catching a glimpse of the smooth tune captain himself: Tom Misch.
Misch has been quietly carving a niche for some years now. His brand of funky, guitar-based music is something I had not come across before. The album Beat Tapes 2 really is something, and closing number Home could be a 12-track all by itself, and never sound boring.
On that, his album Beat Tapes 1, which was not available on Spotify until very recently, is one of the best and most complete records I have ever heard, and I strongly recommend you check it out.
But I digress.
Saturday at Love Supreme is going to be a scorcher – both sonically and in temperature. The only thing to dampen it is a fortunate slight breeze, and frankly abysmal cigarette prices. £16 for a pack is insane – festival or not.
But as blades of grass flick between my toes, and the gentle chit chat from tents beside me reminisce the night before – who really cares how much any of it costs, because we are back in the fields. And we are happy.
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