- "Forget not the friends you've made here," boomed an eerie voice across the water as the sun set on the final day of Lost Village Festival. People gathered at the lake to catch a collaborative performance by the actors seen dotted around the site all weekend. A perfect crescent moon shone high in the inky sky as golden fireworks shot out of wooden platforms and fell like waterfalls. As the last of them hit the ground, a cloud drifted across the moon, curling around it and darkening the sky. It was as if the organisers had managed to rope the moon into the performance.
So seamless was the organisation of Lost Village 2017 that a cooperative moon was almost believable. This was the third edition of the festival, which takes place within privately owned woodland near Lincoln. It has an intimate, boutique feel similar to Secret Garden Party, with a lake, a capacity of around 9,000 and a strong focus on production. Billed as a "land of discovery," there was a lot more to see besides music, from luxury hot tubs and a three-course banquet to The Institute Of Curious Minds, which hosted talks from the likes of Greg Wilson and fabric. You could take yoga lessons, build a dreamcatcher in the woods and take in some comedy in the Lost Theatre. A troupe of immersive performers—"nomadic tribes, clandestine cults and misplaced souls"—wandered the site in billowing costume, always in role. Generally, the idea of having stumbled across a lost village was what made the atmosphere, though there were moments when the tribal aspect didn't sit comfortably with me, feeling commodifying and insincere.
While the main stage—Burial Ground, with décor that reminded me of Easter Island—was in a large open field, most of the weekend was spent lost in the forest. Here, the production came into its own. No tree was left dark or undecorated. Lights sparkled like emeralds in the canopies above, and ribbons, bunting, spoons, clocks, bells and faceless dolls hung from the branches. Each forest stage had been erected in a clearing, so dancers were surrounded by trees with a view of the bright blue sky—the weather was perfect all weekend—and, at night, the stars.
Entering the forest from the lake, the first stage was Bureau Of Lost, a dilapidated wooden cabin with crisp sound and a collection of abandoned suitcases hanging in the trees. The smallest stage onsite, it suffered from sparse attendance at times, despite hosting the likes of Doorly, rising star Or:la and Phonox resident HAAi, whose Coconut Beats set was filled with worldly delights such as Dawda Jobarteh's recently released "Sama Kebbalu (Ben Gomori's Lead By Example Edit)."
From there, a short walk along a path lit with golden lightbulbs brought you to Forgotten Cabin. This was often the busiest stage once the sun went down, but it was easy to navigate even at peak times. A derelict structure built with a look of corrugated iron, it was like a haunted house, with strobes flashing out from windows either side of the decks. It was here that the programming really shone. Saturday got off to a flyer with an all-vinyl set from Eclair Fifi that spanned bright '80s singalongs (Cynthia's "Change On Me") and DJ Slugo's Dance Mania hit "A Blunt." Avalon Emerson showcased her ability to blend the ethereal with the mechanical with records like Danny Tenaglia's "Bottom Heavy," before Ben UFO's usual bag of surprises ranged from UK garage, jungle and Hessle Audio cuts to the trancier synths of Konx-Om-Pax's "Cascada." Denis Sulta, who, along with Jackmaster at Burial Ground, played to fans brandishing Scottish flags, was another standout, as was Midland, whose Sunday evening performance was easily one of my favourites. His tight blends, positive presence and astute reading of the crowd (in addition to tunes like Angel Moraes' mix of Kings Of Tomorrow's "I'm So Grateful" and Roberto De Simone's "Secondo Coro Delle Lavandaie") quickly rid the crowd of any final-day lethargy.
Abandoned Chapel, a stage flanked by a faux neglected brick wall and decorated with holly, was found at the other end of the woods. Large white balloons lined the floor and above the entrance hung shards from a shattered stained-glass window. The stage featured DJs like Baba Stiltz, Moxie, Artwork and Gerd Janson, whose edit, in collaboration with Shan, of Gibson Brother's "Heaven" was heard several times over the weekend. Artwork's disco set on Sunday afternoon brought many jaded ravers back to life, with synchronised dancing, singalongs and jubilant hands-in-the-air moments set to classics like Bee Gees' "You Should Be Dancing" and Sylvester's "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)."
One of the few downsides to Lost Village was that their licence required the music to stop at 2 AM. Though the bars remained open, it meant punters were left to wander the site in search of something to do. (On the flipside, the site filled up faster the next day, which was no bad thing.) Only one small tent let the music run later, thumping out the ultimate collection of chart anthems until 3:30 AM. One evening, I spotted a man, dressed head to toe in black, at Forgotten Cabin, losing himself to Nina Kraviz playing Richard Harrow's "∆ÇÎ∂ H∆MM€R." An hour later, I saw the same guy in the middle of the anthems tent, hurling hay into the air while screaming along to a-ha's "Take On Me." "This is a nightmare!" he shouted with a huge grin on his face.
Photo credit /
Lost Village 2017 / Fanatic
While the main stage—Burial Ground, with décor that reminded me of Easter Island—was in a large open field, most of the weekend was spent lost in the forest. Here, the production came into its own. No tree was left dark or undecorated. Lights sparkled like emeralds in the canopies above, and ribbons, bunting, spoons, clocks, bells and faceless dolls hung from the branches. Each forest stage had been erected in a clearing, so dancers were surrounded by trees with a view of the bright blue sky—the weather was perfect all weekend—and, at night, the stars. Entering the forest from the lake, the first stage was Bureau Of Lost, a dilapidated wooden cabin with crisp sound and a collection of abandoned suitcases hanging in the trees. The smallest stage onsite, it suffered from sparse attendance at times, despite hosting the likes of Doorly, rising star Or:la and Phonox resident HAAi, whose Coconut Beats set was filled with worldly delights such as Dawda Jobarteh's recently released "Sama Kebbalu (Ben Gomori's Lead By Example Edit)." From there, a short walk along a path lit with golden lightbulbs brought you to Forgotten Cabin. This was often the busiest stage once the sun went down, but it was easy to navigate even at peak times. A derelict structure built with a look of corrugated iron, it was like a haunted house, with strobes flashing out from windows either side of the decks. It was here that the programming really shone. Saturday got off to a flyer with an all-vinyl set from Eclair Fifi that spanned bright '80s singalongs (Cynthia's "Change On Me") and DJ Slugo's Dance Mania hit "A Blunt." Avalon Emerson showcased her ability to blend the ethereal with the mechanical with records like Danny Tenaglia's "Bottom Heavy," before Ben UFO's usual bag of surprises ranged from UK garage, jungle and Hessle Audio cuts to the trancier synths of Konx-Om-Pax's "Cascada." Denis Sulta, who, along with Jackmaster at Burial Ground, played to fans brandishing Scottish flags, was another standout, as was Midland, whose Sunday evening performance was easily one of my favourites. His tight blends, positive presence and astute reading of the crowd (in addition to tunes like Angel Moraes' mix of Kings Of Tomorrow's "I'm So Grateful" and Roberto De Simone's "Secondo Coro Delle Lavandaie") quickly rid the crowd of any final-day lethargy.
Abandoned Chapel, a stage flanked by a faux neglected brick wall and decorated with holly, was found at the other end of the woods. Large white balloons lined the floor and above the entrance hung shards from a shattered stained-glass window. The stage featured DJs like Baba Stiltz, Moxie, Artwork and Gerd Janson, whose edit, in collaboration with Shan, of Gibson Brother's "Heaven" was heard several times over the weekend. Artwork's disco set on Sunday afternoon brought many jaded ravers back to life, with synchronised dancing, singalongs and jubilant hands-in-the-air moments set to classics like Bee Gees' "You Should Be Dancing" and Sylvester's "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)." One of the few downsides to Lost Village was that their licence required the music to stop at 2 AM. Though the bars remained open, it meant punters were left to wander the site in search of something to do. (On the flipside, the site filled up faster the next day, which was no bad thing.) Only one small tent let the music run later, thumping out the ultimate collection of chart anthems until 3:30 AM. One evening, I spotted a man, dressed head to toe in black, at Forgotten Cabin, losing himself to Nina Kraviz playing Richard Harrow's "∆ÇÎ∂ H∆MM€R." An hour later, I saw the same guy in the middle of the anthems tent, hurling hay into the air while screaming along to a-ha's "Take On Me." "This is a nightmare!" he shouted with a huge grin on his face. Photo credit / Lost Village 2017 / Fanatic