Last weekend I curated a mini-festival in a back garden in Streatham, South London, in aid of my friend Nadine’s birthday. This was my first attempt at anything like this (I was also had to sound engineer, compere, and of course perform), and, thanks to having some really talented friends (as well as sympathetic weather), it was a brilliant day.


The day kicked off with thirteen year-old Harry Malik easing people in with some saxophone versions of Blues Brothers songs. The laid-back vibe continued as Cameron Ford (musical director of Chico The Musical, in which I played Jeremy Griffin) and Zuri Osterholt performed a set of chilled-out cover versions.

As with any self-respecting festival, the umbrellas were forced out at this point, but luckily we were only subjected to the lightest of showers – no Glastonbury-esque mudbaths this year. Joe Spencer’s subsequent quirky acoustic pop set found its perfect setting in the late-afternoon sun, with beers flowing and the barbecue sizzling in the background.


My own set followed – a mixture of originals and covers designed to crank the energy up a little as we hit the evening. It would seem that I cranked it a little too much, breaking not one, but two D-strings during my set! I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. My old bandmate, Distant Sun’s Rafe Garforth followed me with a very sunny, upbeat set – mixing Razorlight and Killers covers with self-penned numbers, including a couple of songs I used to sing when I was in Turnstone with Rafe back in the early 2000s.


Next up was the comedian Jools Constant, who performed a short, intimate set as the audience relaxed on the garden. This was followed by my good friend Steve Hatch, who played his set of country songs as the sun sank in the evening sky. I joined him onstage for a rendition of a song we co-wrote earlier this year, called ‘Southeast By Miles’, but his festival moment came with the closing song he has now become synonymous with – Hank Williams Jr’s ‘Family Tradition’.


Before the headliners, Jools’ friend Al performed an unscheduled erotic poem that was certainly the most surreal moment of the whole day, but also added to the day’s magic somehow. Then the sky faded further, candles lit up all across the garden, and the incredible FaKingFuck – that is, myself on guitar and veritable Renaissance Man Steve Dunn on vocals, singing a smorgasbord of cheesy boyband / girlband hits from the late-90s/early-00s – took to the stage. The audience (mainly girls in their mid-20s that would have been the key demographic of such music when it was released) seemed to be enjoying the set, until we launched into our cover of B*Witched’s monumental number one ‘C’est La Vie’, at which point they exploded into life and filled the garden from that point onwards with atrocious dancing and singing that wouldn’t sound too dissimilar to Cher’s Believe if auto-tuned. We performed a three song encore that was cruelly cut short by a neighbour yelling out “who the fuck do you think you are?!” and threatening to call the police. “Who the FaKingFuck do you think you are, love?” I should have replied. It was a brilliant day, and I must say felt proud to have enough highly talented friends to be able to put on such a day. Roll on Woodbourne 2012…