It’s hard to believe there’s a greater being when you’re dropped off via rickety shuttle bus, adjacent to the portaloos in a Leeds field that is starting to resemble a bog. However, Florence + The Machine was set to rectify that with a performance that can only be defined as this – biblical. Barefoot and draped in a long lacy white dress, frontwoman Florence Welch frolics onto the stage for the hauntingly catchy Everybody Scream.
It’s difficult not to get caught up in the theatrics of Welch’s performance. Her trademark hand gestures not only conjure the crowd into submission, but seemingly manage to pull sunrays through an ominous fragmentation of clouds. Paired with her powerful and dramatic voice, Welch truly delivers an otherworldly performance that would even nudge the most staunch of non-believers into a worshipping-like state.
The indie-rock veteran manages to do this with pure ease. Commanding the crowd to “shhh” and perform the “ritual” of putting away their phones, we’re in the palm of her hands. It’s an impressive feat to harness a natural magic that renders an intimacy in a tens-of-thousands-strong audience.
These feelings of togetherness are felt most with You Got The Love and Dog Days Are Over. Phones zipped away and cigarettes alight, Welch’s nostalgic big hitters evoke crowd interaction reminiscent of bygone festival days. Her witchy-infused classics and messages of togetherness possess me to the point where I do think it’s 2009 – when debut album Lungs came out – and I’m frivolously handing out cigarettes.
Though, I run out quickly and realise no one around me can repay the favour, as we’re in 2026 and surrounded by vapers. Not wanting to be nicotineless for Welch’s antithesis of stress, a Nordic Spirit Spearmint nestles into the gums to suffice. The little menthol pouch stays strong, while the nostalgia wears off as Welch briefly loses her influence as phones are sprung out of pockets for Free.
Highly contradictory, but can you really blame people for wanting to capture what feels like the second coming? Welch stands ethereal as the breeze captures her hair, before bursting into a grin after the crowd start to sing ‘happy birthday’ to celebrate her 40th birthday. It’s a reminder of what a true force she is and a testament to the longevity of her music. Girls finally come down off of shoulders as the sun sets in unison with Florence + The Machine finishing their set.
Chatting to people in the crowd, many comment on how they’ve only made the pilgrimage to Leeds Festival for Florence. After witnessing the electric energy poured from Welch, it’s hard not to see why. However, it is difficult to see why the band didn’t headline. Instead, drum and bass duo Chase & Status take the spot. Baffling choice at first.
The decision is easily remedied by how Welch cultivated the mystical atmosphere alongside the setting sun. It would have felt different in the darkness. Swapping the benefits of the sun for strobe lights, Charli XCX takes the same slot on the Saturday. Again, a confusing decision when the Brat supremo’s whole schtick is all things club.
The crowd feels lacklustre for the Guess singer whose party-girl presence is usually rippling from the front to the back. Perhaps it’s the timing of her set or, maybe, it’s because it feels as if the majority of those watching are 16-year-olds who have never stepped foot into a Wetherspoons, let alone a nightclub.
It’s a shame as Charli once reigned as the queen of ‘brat summer’. Two years later has everyone simply moved on? Well, for now, we are.
Irish rockers Fontaines D.C take the headliner, and it’s easy to see why. They’ve whipped up a growing cult-like fan base, with frontman Griann Chatten donning the Cwmbran Celtic away shirt, and have produced some of the most recognisable records – I Love You, Favourite and Starburster – in the genre post-2020.
Saying that, Fontaines lack the energy on stage, and it translates to the crowd – even to their baying football shirt-clad fans. It’s no doubt that their melancholic-injected music is contagious, though it proves to be too much so. And this isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this when watching them live.
They have a discography that matches a headline act, but the stage presence and crowd interaction runs short. Someone who has that in bucketloads is 21-year-old American pop wonderboy, Sombr. It’s easy to dismiss this incredibly tall, leather pant donning and black eyeliner etched man as a caricature of a rockstar.
His persona feels like the physical manifestation of teenage angst. The cheers to him ‘stealing’ a buggy and being ‘chased’ by security for the entrance for his Sunday slot proved that. Who am I to judge? Despite pushing 30, the squeals to this knee-sliding and air punching were infectious.
He expertly plays into this mania before transferring it into his first song, we never dated. His vocals are impressively effortless and punchy from the get-go all while never letting the energy fall flat. Even a microphone swing and a simple “come on Leeds” keeps this progressively rain-drenched crowd from going dry.
Sombr is a pop artist with a rockstar attitude, though one with a softness feasible for a largely Gen Z audience having swapped slurred cigarette speeches for monologues of body image. It leads into the latest single My Body Isn’t Ready. Sombr’s vulnerability is felt by the crowd, they belt out his lyrics in support and familiarity.
undressed and back to friends are the two songs that put Sombr on the mainstream map, and fairly recently so. They garner a huge roar from the crowd that not only engages the younger end of the spectrum, but those clearly unaware of his music are bopping their heads and swaying.
It’s undeniable that he knows how to engage a crowd. Five minutes of pandemonium break out as the metallic-vested hitmaker runs off the stage to hug screaming fans. His ability to build up hype cost him the last minute of his set where he was cut off while singing 12 to 12.
Despite the torrential rain and plug-pull, the energy did not falter as people continued to sing and dance for Sombr. He looked grateful, but not impressed. Though, Sombr surely put on an impressive set. He’s not to be underestimated or dismissed as some teenage girl fantasy. Sombr is a real showman and vocalist so do be prepared to be overcome by the odd squeal.
Florence’s biblical energy and Sombr mania started to wear off and I, again, realised the reality. Wading through mud, bypassing the worse for wear portaloos in hopes my bladder isn’t irritated by the rickety bus back to Leeds City Centre. Belting out a plethora of British hits impromptu karaoke-style en route came as a welcome distraction and a hope that the youth haven’t lost their love of music.
All in all, Leeds managed to put together an impressive line-up. In parts, it fell flat. I do question why organisers had three of Britain’s biggest female music exports on the bill, but none of them headlined.
While Leeds has a penchant for attracting swarms of freshly GCSE’d teens, there’s still an undeniable buzz that live music creates, and I hope this vaping-enthusiast bunch learn to inherit that at least.
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