Wide Awake Festival 2025 Review: A Defiant Cry in the Face of Adversity

Brockwell Park, London

“You’ve no idea how close we came to being pulled from this gig.”

Following threats from Southwark Council, as well as charges brought by the Met Police against their headlining act, the dissenting South London festival overcame such adversity to initiate one of the most memorable and vital editions in its history.

Five years in, Wide Awake Festival remains South London’s underground lodestar: an independently-minded festival setting the tone for the capital’s summer. Returning to Brockwell Park for its fifth instalment, the event once again summoned an enticing line-up of avant-garde and sonically adventurous acts across alternative spheres. But this year, the backdrop was markedly different.

The build-up was mired in complications: legal pushback from Southwark Council, Met Police scrutiny (specifically aimed at Belfast hip-hop provocateurs Kneecap), and an air of bureaucratic doubt hanging over proceedings. That Wide Awake even happened is testament to the tenacity of its organisers; the energy that coursed through the day felt all the more electric for it.

Beneath a warming late-May sun, the park filled early, with attendees fuelled by good weather, good food, good music and an undeniably good cause. Flags fluttered in the breeze: Irish tricolours and Palestinian standards prominent among them. “It’s about keeping things moving,” one artist remarked, a statement that felt curiously apt for the surging day ahead.

From the moment Zambian psych-funk legends W.I.T.C.H. took to the stage, the festival was cast into motion. Their radiant, funk-laced grooves injected life into the crowd, bridging generational gaps and reviving Zamrock’s potent legacy with undeniable charisma. On the other end of the sonic spectrum, Gurriers delivered a tight, unrelenting set drenched in the brutalist textures of Ireland’s ever-prolific post-punk scene. With sweat perspiring from the tent's walls and limbs flailing under blistering sun, a cauldron of catharsis firmly planted the Dublin five-piece among the day’s most intriguing acts.

Martin Rev, the pioneering half of NYC’s proto-punk duo Suicide, brought a different kind of unrelenting chaos. Drenched in leather and wholly immersed in his chartered craft, he attacked his synthesiser with a frenetic intensity that evoked both nostalgia and futurism. Meanwhile, Tennessee’s Snõõper ignited a wave of motion with their gym-ready, hyperactive punk. Their sonic velocity met its match in the crowd’s energy, the whole tent bouncing in sweaty, grinning unison.

At the Bad Vibrations stage, Sprints showcased their assured rise. Drawing from last year’s acclaimed debut, the Dubliners crafted a set that was as commanding as it was melodic—scrappy yet polished, visceral yet tuneful. Over on the main stage, CMAT brought a welcome tonal shift. Her country-pop inflections, bolstered by a newly expanded live band, oscillated between irony and sincerity. At times veering into formulaic, her performative charisma and craft kept the crowd rapt.

Fat Dog, a staple of South London’s oddball art-rock wave, suffered some early tech issues but rebounded with feral glee. Their warped theatrics—dog masks, rabid call-and-response “woofs”, and raucous instrumentals—solidified their status as a cult concern with a growing bite. Sega Bodega, experimental producer and pop provocateur, was delayed by tech snags, too, but eventually turned in a, albeit tepid, politically-charged performance.

But Wide Awake 2025 will be remembered, above all, for Kneecap. With an impending trial case from the Met Police and significant questions over whether they’d even be allowed to perform, their headline slot eclipsed their own fanbase; it became a statement. “You’ve no idea how close we came to being pulled from this gig,” rapper Mo Chara immediately addresses to the crowd, met with rapturous applause and support.

Theirs was a set of radical clarity, both musically and politically. Tracks delivered in Irish and English tore through the crowd over modern trap beats and punk sensibilities, all underpinned by a ferocious anti-establishment fire. Cries of “Free Palestine” echoed through Brockwell Park, amplified by the group’s outspoken condemnation of the UK government’s role in the war on Gaza. It was, in essence, a political rally disguised as a rave—one of the most vital live performances this festival has hosted to date.

Despite the hurdles, Wide Awake proved once more why it’s become a fixture in the capital’s musical calendar. Championing progressive programming, showcasing cutting-edge acts from across punk, pop, and experimental realms, with a line-up heavily indebted to Ireland’s surging creative output (at least for this year). Activism remained central too—organisations like No Music on a Dead Planet and other grassroots movements occupied vital space on-site, as conversations and causes forever blend seamlessly into the festival's DNA.

What could have been a subdued, compromised edition instead became Wide Awake’s most urgen, and perhaps most significant, yet. From the soul-stirring rhythms of W.I.T.C.H. to Kneecap’s incendiary closer, this was a day where music met movement full-force. As the sun cascaded over South London, one thing was certain: the underground realm is alive and thriving for the better.

Tickets and further information on Wide Awake Festival 2026 can be found here.

Photos are courtesy of Luke Dyson and Garry Jones whose work can be found at their links.