LeeFest 2010

Four years ago, LeeFest was a friends-only party in Lee Denny’s back garden in Beckenham; now it’s the calender event of two thousand people’s summer. Comparing that to festival giants like Reading & Leeds who sold 82,000 tickets this year it might seem like nothing, but if you then compare it to the average uni-grads annual house party, it’s a pretty special number. After all, do you have that many mates who’d pay £30 to come to your party?

However, this is also the year that LeeFest jumps from the safe arms of an over-sized house party in a field, into the real world of festivaling. Whilst last year they successfully created a one day event, earning themselves the Grassroots Festival Award at 2009’s UK Festival Awards, this year they’ve introduced camping - something which some people love and others despise, but everyone will agree is what truly defines a real festival from the half hearted day ones.

When doors swiftly open at 1pm, with over four hundred people already pitching up their tents most throw down their pegs and head to the main stage to watch local boys and friends of everyone, Professor Penguin, open the proceedings. This Mystery Jets meets Maccabees trio, and LeeFest regulars, play one of the most memorable sets of the festival, showcasing songs from their debut album ‘Planes’. Their sound is soft and brittle, but at the same time has backbone and depth. No doubt they will be back next year, make sure you catch them in the near future if you can.

The brains behind LeeFest are firm believers of giving undiscovered talent a platform to stand on, thus dedicating half of the line up on the main stage to unsigned bands. Ignoring a drab and dry set from They Came From Japan, next to show the South London hipsters how to boogie (quite literally) are Mean Poppa Lean, dressed entirely in spandex.

Almost a Cuban Brothers tribute act - not quite as funny, but not far behind - they create an atmosphere in the crowd that no amount of money could buy. Mixing laughter and lyrics is always a clever move and frontman, which he most certainly is, Christian Barnes does it perfectly (‘What are we like? Fucking mental / Where do we live? Down the shops / Who do we love? Sheryl Crow / Why? She’s fucking hot’). The band on the whole are almost like a spoof super group; their bassist is a dopple ganger of Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers, Barnes sings like a South Park Micheal Jackson character and guitarist ‘C Dog’ rips out riffs even Hendrix couldn’t do (after he’d had a few, obviously).

Throughout their set they steal a megaphone from an audience member, stating ‘we always win’ after she unwillingly gives it up, get the whole crowd to ‘go down low’ in a funkadelic cha-cha-slide, and even do the first ever ‘drum solo fry up’ (it’s almost impossible to describe what that is, but if you see them live you’ll soon understand). MPL are no doubt the highlight of the whole festival, with their show still being spoken about after the headliners play.

The only real problems with LeeFest are the portaloos, food, sound and stage times (so, the main four problems at any festival). The measly three camping area toilets are locked shut during the day which makes tent-side drinking awkward, at 7pm it’s declared that both food stalls have run out of burgers, and throughout the whole day both the Lava Lounge and main stage have technical and stage time difficulties, with each band sound checking before they go on, rendering the programmes useless.

The worst effected by the technical difficulties are King Charles - although their tent is rammed to the bone, they take to the stage 45 minutes late due to a faulty Macbook. Luckily, their performance doesn’t disappoint. Lead singer and guitarist Charles has the best hair known to man and with the whole crowd singing along, these merry men play a storming set.

Does It Offend You, Yeah? and The King Blues have a last minute swap around on the bill, which turns out to be a God send rather than an annoyance as Does It Offend You, Yeah?’s performance is beyond terrible, reminding the crowd that their time on the music scene is as out of date as that bottle of milk you forgot to throw away before embarking on a six week euro-trip. King Blues on the other hand show they are a band with real potential, playing songs about the BNP on a Ukulele and even getting the stone cold bouncers to clap along.

As the night grows darker and two thousand bellies rumble in sync, and with the quickest stage swap over of the day, Sunderland scoundrels The Futureheads take to the stage, playing a hectic set of old and new album songs. They go down better than any extra beef burgers could, and have the carnival kids chanting for more.

Finishing promptly at 10:55pm, it’s at this point you realise LeeFest’s biggest flaw and difference to the majors: the festival curfew is 11pm. After the headliners finish on the main stage, lights come up and like moths to the flame, the whole festival runs to the dance tent to catch the last few minutes of Jakwob’s DJ set, after which everyone is ushered out of the festival arena completely. Although the toilets at this point have fortunately re-opened, the night slowly starts to feel like the awkward after party of a school disco, in a field with a small one-man maths book fire, with everyone only there because no self respecting teen can go to sleep before 12am.

However, that’s just something to work on. LeeFest is in no way perfect, but then it’s an idea which has only recently been given physical form. Next year it’ll probably have a 24-hour Chinese restaurant, a silent disco just like Glastonbury, and maybe even its own branded water too; after all, Lee means business, and for a second attempt he deserves all the applause he can get.