Writer Harvey Marwood takes on the UK’s best boutique festival, Lost Village, discovering incredible food, settings, and electronic music.
Now a staple of the UK festival calendar, Lost Village has earned a reputation for offering something far beyond the usual fields-and-stages formula. Nestled in a secluded forest near Lincoln, the event blends electronic music, immersive theatre, wellness, and fine dining into a four-day experience that feels part dream, part dystopian fairytale. What began as a niche experiment has blossomed into a cultural phenomenon – drawing an eclectic crowd of music lovers, creatives, and curious wanderers from across the country and beyond.
Arriving at this year’s edition, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Lost Village has always thrived on blurring boundaries – between the surreal and the real, the wild and the reflective. As a first-timer, I was beyond excited, with everybody that I know who has attended in previous years placing the bar sky-high for me. Stepping through the gates and into the forest, it quickly became clear that 2025 would be no exception…
Thursday
A smooth, lightly impacted three-hour drive brought us to the festival, where we were guided to our accommodation for the weekend. Slightly more sanitary and comfortable than your typical campsite (not to sound like an absolute d**k… sorry), the Boutique Sanctuary would be my home for the next four days. Showers, “get-ready” stations with hair dryers and mirrors, coffee bars, and secure lock-ups – the Sanctuary offers various types of glamping accommodation for festival-goers.
Once on site, I took some time to properly explore and get my bearings – essential prep for what I knew would be a fairly wobbly three days ahead. I’d heard whispers about a quirky little interactive betting and quiz shop tucked away somewhere on site – the only place serving Guinness on tap. Naturally, it was a no-brainer.
A few pints of the black stuff later, and having also checked out some of the interactive temp-buildings in the area which hosted an arcade and bowling alley, and interactive games with activewear brand Solumon, it was time for the first proper two-step of the weekend, with Honey Dijon taking over the main stage for a three-hour evening set. It felt less like a set and more like a welcome party—the perfect way to ease into the festival. While it was clear the crowds were still filtering in, it served as an ideal warm-up for the heavier days to come. Conscious of not burning myself out too early, I headed back to camp to get some kip. Needless to say, the first night was a fantastic introduction to my inaugural Lost Village experience.
Friday
Friday dawned with a fresh sense of anticipation, and I was ready for my first full day on site. I took my time showering and prepping, making the most of the facilities and skincare goodies gifted to us on arrival.
A few lukewarm Stellas – my drink of choice for the afternoon – accompanied me on my first venture. I’ve always loved comedy but never actively sought out live shows. That changed at Lost Village, which seamlessly blends all kinds of artistic experiences into its lineup – including its very own comedy tent, The Lost Theatre. Luckily, I’d timed my arrival perfectly. Shortly after settling in, the crowd swelled in anticipation of Russell Kane. I picked my spot carefully, tucked away just enough to avoid being singled out, and waited for the show to begin. Forty-five minutes later, my face ached from smiling so much, and a customary walk around the grounds was in order.
On my wanderings, I came across the workshop hub, already packed when I passed by. Here, festival-goers can break from the music and unwind with friends, indulging in workshops ranging from candle-painting, dreamcatcher weaving, and T-shirt printing to fire-writing, life-drawing, millinery, woodcraft, resin jewellery, clothing customization, screen-printing, and cocktail masterclasses. I didn’t linger for too long this time, but it was easy to see how people could get lost here for hours.
Amongst my discoveries I also came across some of the dining options, which didn’t fail to impress. The Village Feast, a four-course banquet hosted by acclaimed restaurants, and The Table in the Woods, an intimate 30 seat chef’s table deep within the forest serving multi-course, fire-cooked tasting menus from the Michelin-performing chefs are just two of the options, with other street-food offerings and independent stalls also being at arms length. With my stomach already full however, the next stop on my list was The Outpost.
Here, Lawrence Guy delivered one of the weekend’s standout sets, with a crowd buzzing and dancing on cars, bursts of colour everywhere, and an infectious vibe all around. I struck up a conversation with someone who’d travelled down from Glasgow, and despite having only recently moved there from Denver, Canada, she’d wanted to come to Lost Village for years. The festival’s appeal is clearly international, as is the transmission of great electronic music.
Speaking of which, Friday’s eagerly anticipated headliners, Maribou State, did not disappoint. A masterclass in atmospheric electronica, they effortlessly blended live instrumentation with soulful vocals and cinematic visuals. Each track felt alive, emotionally captivating and wonderfully wholesome. Calling Talulah Ruby a class vocalist is a vast understatement; she breathed life into tracks like “Nervous Tics” and “Midas” with her lush tones and whatsmore, you could tell just how much every person on stage was enjoying themselves. A lovely first full day in the Village, with a celebratory buzz ringing through the site. Roll on Saturday.
Saturday
Saturday morning greeted me with a dry mouth, a dull headache, and a persistent ringing in my ears from the night before, and so I decided to trade raving for restoration. Thankfully, Lost Village offers more than just music. A wellness retreat nestled within the grounds includes massage tents, yoga sessions, hot tubs, and a tranquil lake perfect for some much-needed recovery. Armed with a strong coffee, I made my way to the lake and joined the quiet crowd stretched along its banks – many of whom looked to be nursing the same fragility as myself. It was a pause that felt almost like stepping outside the festival entirely – a moment to breathe, reset, and slowly recalibrate before the music resumed that afternoon. It definitely made a great addition to the festival, as this is notably not something I’ve been able to do previously at other mainstream, larger-scale festivals. Wellbeing first, always.
For those seeking a bit of food for thought – whether you’re pursuing a career in the arts or simply curious to learn – The Institute of Curious Minds delivered exactly that. Settling into an unexpectedly comfortable sofa on Saturday afternoon, I caught parts of two standout talks: Crazy In Love (featuring Nick Levine, Steven Braines, and Sophie Wilkinson) and Permission To Dance (with HAAi, Leon Vynehall, Sam Spencer, and Kelly Washington). Both offered sharp insights and sparked some genuinely thoughtful discussion – a welcome change of pace that added real depth to the weekend, with the weekend itself offering a variety of talks and interactive activities such as life drawing and breathwork.
The Burial Ground, the main stage, was set to host some brilliant artists throughout the day, so I knew my evening would start there. nimino’s live set eased everyone into the day with his unique, soft synth production style – nothing too heavy, just great vibes all around. Personal favourites Caribou were up next, and honestly, if you’re at an electronic festival but don’t rate Caribou, should you even be buying a ticket? Accompanied by a full live band, they shone with hits like “Can’t Do Without You” and “Never Come Back,” staples that had the crowd singing and hugging friends. A few technical issues momentarily cut the sound, but the Lost Village faithful refused to stand silent. Echoes and chants of “Hey, baby! I wanna know if you’ll be my girl” rang out, warmly received by Snaith and his band.
Saturday’s headliner was no stranger to Lost Village – and for many, attendance felt essential. “It felt like I played one of my best sets,” Four Tet reflected on Instagram after the show, and honestly, I’d have to agree. As a fairly seasoned Four Tet fan, having caught him live over ten times in recent years, each show has been incredible in its own right, but this one carried a different energy. Surrounded by the crowd on stage, Four Tet delivered a set that was both immersive and electric, effortlessly blending wildly varied genres into euphoric house and electronic cuts and creating a signature soundscape of unpredictability yet purely brain-scratching.
I’d be lying if I said the rest of the evening, post-Four Tet, remained in full clarity. What I do remember is becoming a frequent visitor to the bar, however and dancing with strangers (or my new best friends as I imagine I would’ve told them that night) in the forest. Each woodland stage is brilliantly secluded, bursting with character and personality, making it easy to get utterly lost in the music. Airbase, my personal favourite, was unmistakable with its giant red LED Horizon sign crowning the stage. The sound system was impeccable, and the etiquette among Lost Village goers, allowing plenty of roaming space to dance, was another undeniable highlight.
With hours blending into a blur and memory fading fast, it was time to grab a bite and head back to camp. Pizza seemed the best carb-heavy option to soak up the night’s booze and ultimately reduce my inevitable morning hangover, which was practically inhaled in sub-five minutes after buying. Next stop, my bed.
Sunday
Sunday morning found me waking with cargo pockets stuffed full of various decorated corkscrews – tin can ears, wobbly eyes… no idea where they came from. A vague memory surfaced of two girls offering them as a “blessing” – if you happen to be reading this, thanks for the memento, the attention to detail was strange but undeniably staggering. It felt like I’d settled into a new routine: coffee by the lake, a quiet bite to eat, then ready to dive back into the mix. The day’s lineup was packed with talent – Confidence Man, DJ Seinfeld, and, of course, headliner Barry Can’t Swim — all of whom I was eager to see.
My first mission was to queue for the Junkyard stage double header: Seinfeld followed by Conman. The crowd was packed, and I ended up near the back for the first of the two, but for Confidence Man more people streamed in and there wasn’t quite enough room for dancing as I had hoped. Fear not, I decided to check out the late announcement on the app: DJ Seinfeld b2b Luke Alessi at Horizon (my favourite stage, by now well known to anyone reading this). With everyone fixated on Junkyard for Conman, many hadn’t expected the surprise b2b around the corner, and so I secured myself right at the front, dead center between the left and right speakers. Shades on, feet moving. My health app reminded me I’d clocked 45,000 steps the previous day, so I was keen to beat that with some extra dancing.
Leaving that set unfortunately early (way too premature but the headliner wasn’t one to be missed), Barry Can’t Swim left no stone unturned. From 400 people at Bush Hall two years ago to 40,000 at All Points East, and now a strong 15,000 at Lost Village, the growth is just so great to see and enticed the biggest crowd of the weekend, without a doubt. Arms were in the air and people were on shoulders as Bazza and his band played an assortment of tracks from Loner, “When Will We Land?” and |More Content”, a flawless performance that eventually closed with ‘Sunsleeper’ and a magnitude of confetti raining down on the crowd. The last headliner of Lost Village 2025, it was admittedly quite sad that the weekend was coming to an end. With a need to set off very early the next morning, my tent was the next port of call unfortunately, which put a wrap on my experience at the festival.
So, my first Lost Village – and my first boutique festival? Truly top-tier. From the scale and layout of the site to the eclectic crowd and the breadth of music and artistic expression, it was an experience I won’t forget anytime soon. One thing that stood out, and perhaps isn’t mentioned enough, was how few people had their phones out. It created this rare sense of presence – people fully immersed, dancing without distraction, genuinely connecting with one another and the moment. In a world where we’re constantly online, that felt surprisingly powerful.
As much as it might sound like a cliché, there really is something restorative about stepping away from day-to-day life. No emails, no to-do lists, no constant pings. Just music, arts, nature, and freedom. Lost Village offers the perfect setting to disconnect in order to truly reconnect – with yourself, with others, and with the joy of simply being present, and one thing is for sure, it certainly won’t be my last.
Words – Harvey Marwood
Photography – Andrew Whitton / Justine Trickett / Joshua Atkins / Giles Smith
