There weren’t many people, but there were cherry trees. And then there was Beabadoobee, playing as if she didn’t need any more. It didn’t feel like a festival — and maybe that was exactly what made it feel so good.
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Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
It felt like stepping into a 2010 music video, wrapped in soft light and shoegaze romance. Orange Stage was dressed in airy cherry trees, and right in the middle stood Beabadoobee — guitar in hand, shy by nature, with a gaze that kept drifting back into her own world. The crowd was small, but devoted. They knew what they were there for. There was no room for festival frolics here — only dreamy melodies and melodramatic feelings.
Beabadoobee’s universe is built on emotions that never raise their voice. She writes songs about love and loneliness in tones you’d normally associate with rain against a window and a camera in slow motion. And live, it actually worked. Her vocals came through clearly, and she sang with a kind of inward conviction that made you believe her — even if she mostly looked like someone who would rather be somewhere else.
The setlist included the biggest fan favourites — “Care”, “The Perfect Pair”, “Cologne” — delivered with just enough variation to keep it from becoming soporific, but never explosive either. It was more like being rocked than lifted. Some might call it boring. I’d rather call it consistent. Beabadoobee has never been the kind of artist who jumps up and down on stage. She stands there. She plays. And if you’re in, you’re in.
Still, it was hard not to think that this would have worked better on a smaller stage. Apollo or Pavilion, maybe even Gloria. A darker room, a tighter atmosphere, a more inward-facing sound. Orange Stage struggled to contain the fragility in her expression — and although the set design did its best to frame her, some of the magic disappeared in the open space.
But what she lacked in volume, she made up for in presence. Beabadoobee didn’t say much between songs, but when she did, it didn’t sound like a compulsory thank-you speech. She smiled, she nodded, she said hello and thanked the audience as if they really mattered. It felt genuine. And that shouldn’t be underestimated at a time when festivals often seem to be more about filming than feeling.
There was something fundamentally nice about standing there and being quiet together. It wasn’t a concert you’d write home about in capital letters — but maybe that was exactly why it lingered a little longer in the body afterwards. No gimmicks, no guests, no wild visuals. Just an artist playing her music for the people who truly wanted to hear it.
Conclusion without a conclusion:
It wasn’t big, it wasn’t wild — but it was good. Beabadoobee delivered an honest concert where presence, calm and vulnerability were allowed to take up space. She isn’t the festival’s main attraction, but she isn’t a flash in the pan either. And on Orange Stage, she proved that sometimes it’s enough to stand very still and sing, if you have something to say.
