On The Beach (25.07.26) *****

Currents, Lulls and Lift: On The Beach finds its shape in The Maccabees' headline return.

On The Beach returned under the stewardship of Joy., whose summer series has been steadily drawing distinctive line‑ups to Brighton’s shoreline. The Maccabees’ headline return opened with Lime Garden’s bright hometown spark before Badly Drawn Boy’s fragile solo turn; and Ash, Anna Calvi, Miles Kane and Editors each reframed the afternoon in their own styles.

Lime Garden *****

Lime Garden’s early‑afternoon set carried an instinctive looseness that suited the beach. Tippi Morgan’s elastic bass lines and Annabel Whittle’s crisp drumming gave the music buoyancy, while Leila Deeley’s stunning shape‑shifting guitar work added colour and unpredictability. Chloe Howard’s conversational vocals threaded humour and slacker‑punk ease through the set. By Lifestyle, dancers were already forming pockets across the beach, and Clockwork kept that movement alive. A standout moment, Cross My Heart, turned the beachfront into an early sway‑along zone. Closing with 23, Lime Garden left the day with a sense of lift: energetic, colourful, unpretentious.

Badly Drawn Boy **

The atmosphere shifted sharply as Damon Gough stepped onto the stage. His understated presence, usually a strength, felt adrift here. Retuning issues disrupted the opening, and mid‑set requests for added vocal echo deepened the sense of disconnection. The flow never quite settled. When Gough shared that his mother had passed away only weeks earlier, the mood changed; the audience leaned in with empathy, and he responded with flashes of wry comments. Yet despite these moments, the set remained emotionally heavy, shaped more by personal circumstance than craft. A slight difficult chapter in the day’s unfolding narrative.

Ash *****

Ash’s arrival felt like a reset as a sharp, high‑energy jolt that snapped the afternoon back into motion. Fun People and Ad Astra reintroduced momentum, Tim Wheeler’s melodic drive and Mark Hamilton’s muscular bass locking tightly against Rick McMurray’s propulsive drumming. Shining Light softened the edges, drawing more dancers into motion, and Oh Yeah sustained that warmth. Their cover of Jump In The Line added an old‑school jolt before Kung Fu returned to fast, post‑punk brightness. By Girl From Mars, the beachfront was fully engaged. Burn Baby Burn closed the set with a burst of energy that genuinely reignited the afternoon.

Anna Calvi ****

With Anna Calvi the day moved into darker, more cinematic territory. Her entrance, black attire, stark red backdrop, the wordless surge of Rider to the Sea, immediately reframed the mood. Suzanne and I shifted between delicacy and late‑night intimacy, while Indies or Paradise pushed into louder, more dramatic terrain. Wish moved from haunted whispers to full‑bodied screams, and Don’t Beat the Girl Out of My Boy offered tenderness capped by an astonishingly long high note. Later the set’s wildest moments, Calvi playing guitar on her knees, then on her back, contrasted with the overall restraint of the performance. A slow‑burner: atmospheric, textured, and quietly commanding.

Miles Kane ***

Calvi’s brooding intensity gave way to Miles Kane’s swaggering, glam‑leaning punch. Leopard‑print amps, strutting confidence, and a band built for festival immediacy set the tone. Cry On My Guitar and Troubled Son pushed the crowd into motion, while Without You and Blame It On The Summertime leaned into upbeat, sing‑along brightness. By Rearrange, Kane had the front rows fully engaged. Sunlight In The Shadows shifted into heavier rock, its acapella part snapping into louder release. Don’t Forget Who You Are carried hints of rockabilly swagger before Come Closer closed with a predictable frenzy.

Editors *****

Editors expanded the frame further, pushing into widescreen alternative drama. Torn backcloth and fractured beams of light framed the band’s tension‑driven aesthetic. Racing Rats and Munich connected instantly, the crowd clapping along. Sugar brought brooding weight, Tom Smith crouched at the front of the stage as its slow pulse rolled across the beach. The set moved confidently through eras: the urgency of An End Has a Start, the melodic lift of A Ton of Love, the atmospheric swell of The Rush. All the Kings built from introspection into full‑band rise with Smith rocking an acoustic guitar before Papillon erupted into a final, synth‑driven surge.

The Maccabees *****

By the time Editors closed, the shoreline felt ready for The Maccabees’ return, which was celebratory, quietly momentous, and deeply tied to Brighton’s musical story. Their name lit up across the backdrop, a glitter ball turning overhead as a low synth hum rolled out. Love You Better opened with immediate communal lift, followed by Latchmere’s rockier bite and Lego’s rising energy. Feel To Follow introduced a mellower groove. Orlando Weeks’ reflections on the band’s Brighton roots deepened the connection. First Love became a full beach sing‑along. For Precious Time they demanded “vertical movement” and got it as the crowded jumped along; Toothpaste Kisses offered tender contrast before X Ray snapped back into early‑era urgency. The reflective Ballad of So Long, a new song, held the beach in attentive silence, Something Like Happiness lifted voices again, and No Kind Words and Pelican closed the night with arms‑aloft release. A triumphant, emotionally rich return.

Across seven acts, the crowd’s energy moved in waves. As a whole, the event offered a good, steady day: textured, uneven in places, but ultimately held together by its strongest performances and the emotional weight of its finale. A thoughtful instalment in Joy.’s summer series, shaped more by atmosphere than spectacle.

On The Beach is in association with Wasted Youth, Radio X and Louder.

Peter Greenfield, July 2026.