Last year I discover’d I could trace the Brogden line of my DNA all the way back to the year 1600 & the northern slopes of Pendle Hill, a whole decade before the Pendle Witch story burst into the national consciousness from this superstitious, rural, pro-Catholic backwater. Also close to the northern slopes of Pendle is the annual spiritual rejuvenation that is getting a massive stomp-on down Beatherder Festival, which has just finish’d last night. 

I was heading south to play an acoustic gig in deepest darkest West Yorkshire – somewhere near Mytholmroyd -, but that was on the Saturday, so I were like, let’s have a gander at Beatherder on the way down. I’ve never actually been there before, what with it being on t’other side o’ th’ill from Burnley & all that, but you can’t put off destiny forever, & I left the Isle of Arran on the 12.30 ferry, eventually trundling into Burnley Manchester Road Train station at 20:15, where mi best mate, Nicky, were waiting. 

Next port of call was picking up my pal, Wayne, & then we were off, heading to the Beatherder site via the offy at Barrowford. Then BOOM! we were on site & setting up our tents – about 9.30PM. Wayne’s pop-up tent was an absolute disaster, which I got at least half-working, but sacrific’d my own tent’s pegs to support all the lack of tension in his, which render’d my own tent well floppy for the weekend. I ended up being reyt floppy myself, so it was all good.

We then hit the beers, which I didn’t stop downing until 4PM the next day, when I would crawl into my tent for a good 8 hours kip, completely missing most of my first ever Beatherder – proper Fear & Loathing journalism, like when Hunter S Thompson flew to Zaire in ’74 to cover the Rumble in the Jungle & spent the fight time chilling at his hotel pool.

Back in 2023, me & Wayne caught the end of the Thursday action among so many happy faces, under some reyt tall trees, call’d the Toil Trees – nam’d after one of Beatherder’s founders I think. I found the tunes a wee bit cheesy, but y’know, there were so many great acts to come over the weekend, that I think that these Thursday vibes are all about the joyousness & the release of finally escaping the nonsense of the world – either once again or for the very first time, like me & Wayne.

We then decided to have an exploratory donder about the regular campsite, & to our surprise there were loads of actual raves kicking off everywhere- so we join’d in for a bit & began a 13-hour buzzy bee buzz about Beatherder, floating from campsite to campsite, finding folk well & wide awake, & just meeting people & getting involv’d – it was fuckin brilliant. 

Daylight arriv’d without me actually noticing, then Friday began, & I’d prepp’d a reyt days viewing, discussing the merits of Beatherder’s line-up with a couple of Scottsh pals who know about the music here. I’m a bit of a hippy, really, & for me dance music is something to dance to at parties, not to listen to & know the names of & shit. So, this was gonna be a great opportunity to just learn about dance music – I was ready to shazam everything decent that I heard, while following the following Friday selections from my pals.

I would have added Bad Boy Chiller Crew to that – I’m a wee bit partial -, & I’m sure all them gigs were brilliant – but with their selections beginning at 4 in the afternoon, & me in my kip by then, my amazing journey thro Beatheader climax’d instead with two hours in the Beatherder & District Working Men’s club having a reyt boogie to Nana Moon’s disco, follow’d by a few tunes from Billie & the Biscuit Brothers. I swear down, I was at first the only one dancing to Nana Moon, but by the end of their set the whole place was rocking – they even play’d Peaches & Herb’s ‘Shake Your Groove Thing’ for me – my contribution to the soundscape of this year’s Beatherder.

Then it was up to one of the best places we donder’d into – Smoky Tentacles -, slightly off piste near the fairground rides, but really warm vibes – great staff, top beers, buzzing tunes – from where I stagger’d back to my tent in a warm fuzzy glow, & half-slept for 8 hours listening to the festival’s louder stages in some sort of audio soup. I then got up & re-enter’d the site, having an explore of a major dance area – with underground bunker style vibes & a place call’d the Launderette complete with washing lines of dangling clothes. I’d have loved to have spent a few hours raving down there, like, but this year’s Beatherder for me was with the people, I think, & there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nowt set in stone about what you do at a festival – as long as you have fun! I mean, the mantra of Beatherder is ‘an orgy of beats, barminess & unrivall’d revelry,’ & I was certainly ticking them boxes.

So, I met Wayne & got some midnight breakfast, & had a few more hours at Smoky Tentacles – which I don’t think ever stopp’d going all weekend. What was cool was that the crews we’d met on our Thursday-Friday rampagey meanderings kept popping in, & it was nice to see all our best mates again – Burnley folk I hadn’t seen in years, the guy up from London who runs a major DJ scene down there, the Scouser who does one man flute-guitar-dance improvs; etc.etc. – some reyt characters.

Roll on 10AM I was noising Wayne up – he’d rock’d into his tent at 7AM -, because by 11 we needed to be at the pick-up point just off the main road, to meet my Uncle Jeff, who could also trace his ancestors to the northern slopes of Pendle thro the Brogdens. We made it on time – tho’ I was actually barefoot now, having lost my shoes somewhere over the Friday stompabout. Luckily, on the drive west, we pass’d thro’ Todmorden, where I could pick something up for my feet & a few more bottles of wine.

A little while later we were heading up to Aaron’s Campsite, near Sowerby Bridge, for a buzzing day of DJs & live music in a supercool performance barn. There were about 60 of us, which is a hell of a lot less than was at Beatherder, but I’d brought some of the love vibes with me… after playing my acoustic set in the afternoon, I also bang’d out a 40 minute DJ set at the end, which had the whole place rocking, half-way thro’ which I projected myself into places like The Trash Manor, The Ring & The Fortress, knowing full well they’d be kicking off big time too, that very same moment!

Damo