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We then abruptly transitioned to the hedonistic sounds of Goat, at first very con- fusing and a hard-to-describe experience if you have never heard them before. The atmosphere in the Siam tent was both hyp- notic and hair-raising, with the band dressed in billowing robes and animal-esque masks prancing around the stage with a tam- bourine. My pal described it as “if Blair Witch had a visual soundtrack, this would be it”. After a few out-of-this-world sets, Emir Kus- turica almost felt too calm to end a Friday night but decent musicians all the same.


Saturday started off relatively more chilled with the beautiful sounds of Mada- gascar’s Toko Telo, who carried on the show and dedicated their set to the third member of their trio Régis Gizavo who had unexpect- edly passed away the week before. It was a poignant set with beautiful melodies, Moni- ka Njava’s voice a great marriage with D’Gary’s fast guitar rhythms.


The next few artists were some of our weekend highlights. Portico Quartet, reformed and with their recognisable jazzy sounds back in full pelt, were followed by Omar ‘Bombino’ Moctar who made a Jimi Hendrix-type revival of Saharan desert blues. And then on to Lamomali who we hadn’t quite clocked (until up close) were an all-star line-up of Toumani Diabaté, his son Sidiki, and Fatoumata Diawarra. This project was brought together by French musician -M- and unsurprisingly produced some of the best kora playing and beautiful vocals in one big Malian party.


After a delicious Goan fish curry, warm- ing our insides from more chilling and never- ending rain, the evening kicked off with the melodic, soothing voice of Seu Jorge, fol- lowed by Toots & The Maytals who put the fun in funk for a sea of long-time loyal fans.


What left the biggest mark on us though were the bouncy, hard -hitting sounds of Afro Celt Sound System who com- pletely outgrew the small BBC3 stage from the moment they started. Scheduled for just under 3,500 festival goers in the Womad app, crowds the equivalent size of those at the Open Air stage happily danced away in the rain – and so did we.


Sunday, the last day of the festival, came


round quickly. The sun decided to come out midway through Eliza Carthy & the Wayward Band’s power-packed set – one of our favourites. The musical strength of the band shone while Eliza’s boundless positive energy overflowed into the crowd. Her constant reinvention of English folk music is mesmeris- ing and, unsurprisingly, she had everyone in the palms of her hands (and violin).


The children’s procession followed with the sun finally on full blast, throwing a shim- mering light across all of their impressive weekend creations.


Sunday evening began with the world- famous Ladysmith Black Mambazo from South Africa whose tight choral sounds and dance moves more than entertained the huge crowds trying to get into the Siam tent.


With our last chance to make the most of festival shopping, we heard Chico Trujillo tearing down the invisible Open Air stage roof. Holding hunger at bay, we then caught Nick Mulvey – a talented guitarist with a voice that could melt ice, backed by a small but perfectly-formed band: one of the most beautiful sets of the weekend. A quick French and Thai food stop later, and we are dancing the festival out with Roy Ayers, Seun Kuti & Egypt 80 – undoubtedly Fela 2.0 with some of the best Afrobeat sounds and moves to wrap up another fantastic year.


Rain or shine, what another great week- end. Until next year… we can’t wait!


Cathia Randrianarivo


MEKONVILLE Pettaugh, Suffolk


Festivals, eh? Seems like every weekend dur- ing the summer offers an overabundance of choice, every one of them carefully pro- grammed. But sometimes an oddity will pop up that’s very different. 2017 marks the 40th anniversary of the Mekons, the favourite chil- dren and stepchildren of Leeds, who keep going and still mostly fly under the radar. So what better than a birthday party that’s also a festival – Mekonville. It’s unlikely to happen again, but it wasn’t so much a ‘festival’ as a gathering of the clan. The band’s audience around the world might be small in the scheme of things, but they’re fanatical. And quite a few travelled from Europe, America, Canada, and maybe beyond to be a part of it.


At its height, there were only about 500 people there, like freemasons without the secret handshake. Plenty of people knew many others, and there was no real backstage area. The artists mingled freely and widely. Various Mekons past and present like Sally Timms, Susie Honeyman, Jon Langford and Rico Bell dusted off their other aggregations and performed. For Lu Edmonds, that meant roping in Ben Mandelson (like him, another former Mustapha) and Justin Adams to resur- rect Les Triaboliques for the first time in five years. They’d even had a rehearsal the week before. And in the wind, rain, and cold of Fri- day night they played a barnstorming set with mandolin, electric guitar, and cümbü , as well as some deliciously gravelly vocals, all the material taken from their only release (so far).


Saturday was sunny, and even hot. Well, for a fair part of the day anyway. A little before noon a certain Ian A Anderson blinked out from the second stage, not used to per- forming so early and faced with following the excellent – and accomplished – young act, the 4DGs (Tom Mekon’s kids). But for one of his first solo appearances in over four decades, the editor of this magazine turned in a sterling set, sailing through a selection of English country blues, enjoying himself more with each one. He finished up with Lu Edmonds and his cümbüs joining for a rous- ing finale that left the pair of them grinning merrily as they had a great time together on a Mississippi Fred McDowell tune. Such con- nections and pleasure were the joy of this fes- tival. Indeed Lu was back on Sunday with Sally Timms, whose set included Go From My Window, learned from Shirley Collins who’d co-discovered Fred McDowell in 1958.


And politics. It would hardly be some- thing involving the Mekons otherwise, and


The Mekons / audience interface


What Happened At Leeds, a spoken word commemoration about the Leeds Convention of 1917 (Google it) was a Saturday afternoon highlight, involving several band members and others – myself included. Even the start of rain couldn’t put a damper on the Socialist fire.


The Mekons’ Saturday appearance (they’d been on the night before, too) was billed as an acoustic show. But with the rain they turned up the volume and kicked out an electric set guaranteed to please, all the ‘hits’ like Sometimes I Feel Like Fletcher Christian, Ghosts Of American Astronauts, The Old Trip To Jerusalem, Rock & Roll, Where Were You? and Last Dance, trying to fit everyone onto a tiny stage. Their reputation might be as pleasingly shambolic, but really, they’re a very, very tight band that just happens to love a good time and create some of the most individual music around. Over the years I’ve seen them many times, but this, among their people, stood out. Plenty of the crowd, many of a certain age, were dancing and singing all the words. It felt like a gorgeously wild family reunion – which is what it was. It was music for the ages, a celebration and a lesson to so many bands of just how to be original and enjoyable, yet still have depth.


Nobody on a stage was trying to be per-


fect. But that’s always been the Mekons ethic. Passion is better than perfection. And there was no shortage of that. It’s human – and maybe that’s what draws some people into the fold. Plenty of tales like ‘oh, my partner’s a Mekons fanatic, so she/he just had to be here’. Given how many have gone through the ranks in the band’s different incarnations, you could have filled a good-sized field with ex-members.


But the originals did get together on Sat- urday night: Mekons 77, including the owner of the festival property. It was raucous and shouty, of course, and had to include Never Been In A Riot, their response to the Clash, the sound of the ordinary man in the street. Not note-perfect, by any means, but nobody wanted it to be. Yet it was more than nostal- gia. Forty years on and it was still relevant, about as pertinent a comment on Britain as you’ll find. As someone said, the Mekons are the most punk of punk bands.


For something organised by people with a bent towards anarchy, though, it was a very well-thought out event. Family-friendly, good separation between stages. A tiny pool with a rowing boat. Good camping area. A cinema, a library, craft tent, spoken word stage. And friendly, actually helpful staff. Quite a few in their twenties and thirties were in atten- dance, so the message keeps rippling a little down the generations.


Photo: Rachel Bevan


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