Deep in the Derbyshire peaks, what started off as a party between friends nearly twenty years ago has blossomed into one of the UK’s most hedonistic indie gatherings. Y Not Festival has had one hell of a history- from being a tiny festival headlined by smaller artists to booking the likes of Snoop Dogg and Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds as headliners, and of course the infamous 2017, which can be defined as the “Mud & Cancellation” annus horribilus.
But after three years, and a global pandemic, Y Not finally made its return as an independent festival this weekend. Walking around the main arena, it feels much more condensed than it used to, all the main stages are a short walk away from each other. Somehow, the intimacy of the early years of Y Not has been combined with the scope and spectacle of the most recent few years. In many ways, it works; main stage openers Stone and Lucy Spraggan play their sets on Thursday a short distance away from all your food, drink and 80s disco needs. Spraggan encourages singalongs, fist-pumps and pits the Yorkshire and Derbyshire fans against each other for a bit of healthy crowd competition; her penultimate number ‘Last Night (Beer Fear)’ foreshadows the boozy and messy weekend yet to come, it’s a brilliant opening set for a festival.
Unfortunately, this reduced approach does come with complications. Complaints are raised about the build-up of queues before the festival, leaving many attendees waiting three hours just to get in. Thursday headliners The Kooks come on stage half an hour earlier than advertised, with a flurry of confused indie kids running to the main stage having missed many of their favourite tracks. And Manic Street Preachers, a band who many of the festival’s audience have specifically bought their ticket for, are delayed by nearly an hour on Friday night due to a faulty mixing desk. They only play eight songs, a barnstorming eight songs, but a reduced set nonetheless. None of this is the fault of the bands, and none of this is the fault of the staff who work tirelessly to bring the magic to life. It still feels very much like Y Not are finding their feet as a festival though, which after nearly twenty years of existence feels somewhat chaotic.
But on the other hand, it’s hard not to feel some form of warmth towards the chaos. We get Calva Louise waking up the Giant Squid with a fiery set, and through frontwoman Jess Allanic teaching the audience obscenities in Spanish. Beans on Toast has been performing an afternoon slot on the Quarry for the past ten years. “It’s become a tradition, and I fucking love traditions!” he tells me before his slot. The alternative brand of folk he provides brings everybody together in a warm embrace, whether they be new to his music or seasoned fans. “There was one year where I wasn’t booked, and immediately there were people on social media saying “Book Beans, book Beans!” and then one day later I get the call! It’s fucking brilliant, long may it continue!”. His music brings a sense of much needed optimism to the fields, they are made for festivals and that’s why he is such a popular booking amongst the season.
Earlier on Friday, there is a star turn from local performers. Nottingham punk band Babe Punch open up the Quarry with seasoned aplomb; they are a band I’ve known since they started, and they’ve never sounded better up here on a stage big enough to utilise their mighty sound. On the Hog & Barrel, YAY MARIA impresses with her well-crafted pop gems, including closer ‘TRU CRUSH’ which gets a crowd mostly comprised of bearded ale drinkers bopping along to her queer positive tunes. And if that sounds up your street, Quarry headliners Pale Waves bring the day to a shining close. “This song is for all the gays” shouts Heather Baron-Gracie as they launch into ‘She’s My Religion’, with a huge Pride flag waving amongst the loved-up audience. It’s moments like this that somehow make the ramshackle nature of the festival worthwhile.
Saturday is the day that seems to bridge the generational gap the most in the festival. Levellers bring the dads out in full force for a set that’s been four years in the making for the iconic folk-rock band. Hits like ‘What a Beautiful Day’ go down a storm, and you can’t wipe the smile off Mark Chadwick’s face. Elsewhere, the young whippersnappers are represented by fellow whippersnapper Alfie Templeman, who manages to pack out the Quarry for a set of chirpy and delightful indie-pop. “Cowabunga! I feel younger!” he screams during ‘Happiness in Liquid Form’ echoing the sentiment of everyone in the crowd aged 23 and above. But it’s during Spector where the gap closes up- Fred Macpherson manages to point out audience members as young as 12 and as old as 69 in the crowd, who go absolutely nuts for the London indie legends. Spector’s headline show on the tiny Scruff Of The Neck stage was nothing short of spectacular- hits like ‘Chevy Thunder’ and ‘Celestine’ collide with newer anthems such as ‘Catch You On the Way Back In’, and such is the adoration of the audience that every single word is known and screamed back at them. The show is being streamed on Twitch, and Macpherson, ever the wit he is, engages with the stream whilst being on stage. It is hilarious and heartwarming, sweaty and superb, by far and away the best set of the weekend.
A huge pillar on the Giant Squid stage threatens to overshadow Yard Act frontman James Smith; “pillars to the front!” he shouts, before the crowd are treated to an electric and intense set from the Leeds post-punk combo. Smith shouts out the various chippies of Matlock Bath, encourages chants of “Derbyshire!” against rogue “Yorkshire!” cries and reminds us that “this is it, we’re only here once” as the funky strut of ‘Pour Another’ kicks in. At one point, a crowdsurfer goes over the railings without any security to catch him, leaving him with a bleeding mouth. “That’s a lot of blood” Smith notes.
On Saturday night, we are spoiled for choice for headliners. We Are Scientists and Kelis both play stages that clash with the iconic Mancunians themselves Courteeners. Despite Liam Fray noting “the pissing down of rain” (the one downpour this weekend!), he applauds the crowd’s tenacity and treats us to a selection of indie disco classics. ‘Summer’ gets everyone swaying and ‘Lose Control’ gets everyone bouncing- the home run trio of ‘Are You In Love With a Notion?’, ‘Not Nineteen Forever’ and ‘What Took You So Long?’ knock the set out of the park, proving why Courteeners belong on stages like this.
There’s a certain sense of weirdness to Y Not that most other festivals lack. For example, every Saturday morning, you’ll see a gang of lycra-clad tent dwellers rushing towards the main stage for a hangover-busting fitness routine from Mr Motivator himself. Flamingo Jack’s is the home for the alternative, with stand-up comedians, the infamous Elvana, and a karaoke set led by Shaun Williamson aka Barry from Eastenders. Club Malibu is a tent that stays open until 3am playing an array of cheesy bangers from all eras, if you want to hear ABBA mixed with Smash Mouth, look no further than here. The weirdest and most wonderful act of the weekend though is yet to come- Sunday morning arises and this predominantly indie festival is opened by Raised By Owls, a death metal band with 30 second songs about Ainsley Harriot and Owen Wilson. They play the Chucklevision theme and invite their mate on stage, who just so happens to be dressed as Mr Blobby and swings a dildo in the crowd. They divide a wall of death between the crowd’s preferred pronunciation of “scone” (“scone” rhymes with “gone”, debate me), and get even the hungover kids in Courteeners t-shirts headbanging. It’s glorious, moments like these are what festivals are made for, and I hope Y Not continues to book leftfield acts like Raised By Owls in the future.
Local heroes Jake Bugg and Easy Life both play incredibly popular sets on the main stage, and both are at the top of their game. “One last chorus, yeah?” Bugg asks the crowd during 2012 throwback ‘Lightning Bolt’, displaying more stage presence in a single second than the past ten years of his career. It’s a more relaxed, confident offering from the Nottingham singer-songwriter, and it works wonders. And over in the Leicestershire corner, Easy Life are here for the party of the weekend. Frontman Murray Matravers encourages everyone to get on shoulders, to the chagrin of the security, and the sight is glorious. Easy Life have had an incredible two years, from small venues to the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury, and Sunday evening’s slot at Y Not is a well-deserved victory lap.
Over on the Quarry, Marty deliver a very fun, bouncy opening set. The Nottingham trio write infectious pop tunes with layered harmonies, giving me the aura of a Midlands equivalent to Haim. They set the stage perfectly for the bands yet to come, including Dream Wife, who, in their own words, are having “the absolute best time” this summer. “We’ve been recording a new album” they tell me before their set, “so there’s not been anything tying these dates together, they’ve all been like fun days out for us!”. And fun is an understatement when describing a Dream Wife live show; the band bounce around like Tigger on a caffeine stream, bringing the tent together in their rousing DIY power-punk sound. There’s power in the unifying cry of “I am not my body, I am somebody!” that rings out across the field, there is joy when Rakel Mjöll shoots a stream of dollar bills across the crowd during ‘Sports!’, and ‘F.U.U’ closes proceedings spectacularly.
Three albums on, and The Big Moon are still one of the best live bands in the world. Their shows provide a kind of comfort and happiness in contrast with the outside world, ergo they are at home at festivals like these. Opener ‘Wide Eyes’ goes down a storm, and the chemistry between the four during ‘Cupid’ and Fatboy Slim cover ‘Praise You’ still makes you want to be part of their gang. “What are the scores?” Jules Jackson regularly asks the crowd before celebrating with her bandmates at the news of the Lioness’ Euros win. Football indeed has come home, and the opening synths of ‘Your Light’ provide the perfect soundtrack to that celebration.
Elsewhere on the main stage, The Vaccines have heard the news too, via a mass singalong of ‘Three Lions’. “Is it now officially home?” Justin Young asks, and the crowd erupt in applause and football fervour. The Vaccines are arguably the ultimate UK festival band; their inclusion on any lineup improves it tenfold and tonight they are on fire. Inclusions of rarities such as ‘Nightclub’ and ‘No Hope’ go down a storm, and the hits send shivers up your spine. For The Vaccines, this Y Not set has been five years in the making after having their 2017 slot cancelled, and as far as late arrivals go, this one was absolutely worth the wait.
As the sun sets and the chapter begins to close on another Y Not Festival, the crowds gather in their masses for one last shindig with Stockport’s finest. Much like Jake Bugg, Blossoms are a band who have come into their own in the live sphere very recently. Tom Ogden has embraced the glam and pizzazz that comes with the stage and chats to the crowd like they are his old friends- and in many ways, they are. “This is the first festival I ever came to ten years ago in 2012” he casually mentions to the crowd, so this headline slot is naturally a very big deal. Confetti cannons bookend the show, the setlist spans their entire career from old favourites to newer helpings from Ribbon Around the Bomb, and they even treat us to a cover of ‘Don’t You Want Me’ with Brooke Combe. As Ogden introduces his bandmates during the extended climax of ‘Charlemagne’, we say goodbye to the fields of Pikehall once more. Y Not is certainly a very strange festival, one that has a lot more rawness and spontaneity than its peers. But the giddy hedonism of it is incredibly endearing, and ultimately rewarding. If you’re looking for a festival with all the charm, allure and anarchy of your favourite indie clubnight, look no further than Y Not.
