We Out Here review: Gilles Peterson’s event is (almost) the UK’s best bijou music festival

It’s not every festival where saxophonists are treated like rock stars and UK garage DJs play Vengaboys songs during their sets. But We Out Here, a small festival with a focus on jazz and electronic music, is no ordinary event. At Gilles Peterson’s festival, relocated to a country estate in Wimborne St Giles in Dorset in its fourth year, it feels like anything can happen. Yes, the new setting comes with a few teething problems, but nothing can overshadow the sense of unbridled euphoria and possibility it provides.

After a summer of questionable UK weather, the Dorset environment treats ticketholders well, which is fortunate, because nothing beats lounging in the sun to some soul-soothing jazz. Two of the night’s headliners are something of a letdown – Goldie struggles with sound levels, and Roisin Murphy drops out at the last minute – but it barely registers. As Mercury Prize-shortlisted jazz quintet Ezra Collective remind us, in the title of their soaring 2019 single, “you can’t steal my joy”. No, the coolest guys in jazz make up any disappointments by the bucketful, with an epic, fiery set where their bolshy bangers demonstrate the phenomenal musical prowess of all five members.

After all, We Out Here really isn’t about the headliners. This is a small festival, but one with variety. There’s magic in finding a secluded tent and discovering new niche acts from across the world, then leaving with a long list of concerts to attend. Highlights include the swaggering funk of Kyoto Jazz Massive, with their soaring vocals and lightning-paced drumming, the soulful tones of Yazmin Lacey and the sun-drenched reggae of sound system Channel One. The crowds never feel rammed, so there’s always space to dance, and, despite the lack of phone signal, it’s still possible to track down your mates. Kids run around freely, while revellers enjoy games of cricket, frisbee and Spikeball while the music blares.

As expected when a festival relocates, there are kinks that need ironing out, mostly to do with understaffing. Travel from Salisbury station to the site is woefully disorganised and (not to go into too graphic detail), the toilets put Trainspotting to shame. Across the board, the sound levels feel too low, but particularly at late-night area The Grove. Poor speaker placement within the long and narrow space does the DJs a disservice. (When conversation is louder than the music, you know something’s gone wrong.)

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These criticisms are only being aired because We Out Here has the potential to be the UK’s best small festival. There’s a sense of love and community among the crowds – no matter how crappy the toilets are (pardon the pun). Strangers are warm and friendly, whether cutting shapes together or gathering among bales of hay to cheer on England’s women’s team on Saturday. You leave with feet that are sore from dancing, and cheeks that ache from a weekend of laughter. “This is a special festival, because it’s not every day a festival feels like a family,” Ezra Collective tell the crowd as they close out the main stage on Sunday night. Watching them, you feel it too.