Lake of Stars Festival @ Senga Bay, Malawi - 10th-12th October 2008
 
Most people who have travelled to Africa have usually returned with stories of lions, leopards, sunsets over the Masai Mara, various heart warming encounters with locals, bizarre experiences and  so on an and so on. Whether you travel to the deserts of Mali or the 'touristy' savannah of Kenya, there are few who come back uninspired or underwhelmed. It is, please excuse me for the cheese, a pretty special continent to visit. Those same people, after some gentle nudging however, would probably similarly admit that it is a pain in the arse to travel to and around, getting anything done is usually quite difficult and there are some other small problems – corruption, malaria, lack of decent facilities. Organising a music festival at any rate is an enormous undertaking. Doing it in a relatively inaccessible remote and extremely poor east African country is a serious challenge. Not knowing what to expect at all, I rolled up to the Lake of Stars festival, held in Senga Bay, Southern Malawi pretty eager for my first African music festival experience.

 
Run by the team behind the Chibuku nights in Liverpool, the Lake of Stars had a bit of a buzz about it this year. Lots of press back home had meant more numbers were expected, a new venue, only an-hour-and-a-half from the capital, meant that it was a hell of a lot easier to get to than previous years (anyone who has experienced Malawi's roads will readily tell you of some 'interesting' journeys). Will Jameson, the festival organiser, had certainly chosen the site well. The Livingstonia beach is a stunning kilometre or so of pristine sand and clear water, that would prove extremely useful in  what was to prove the almost unbearable heat. At one end was a swanky hotel (a rarity in Malawi) and at the other the main stage, a very cool bamboo and wooden structure, draped with different pieces of material which had an almost ramshackle feel to it and definitely sung out 'world music'. Remember - this is Africa, not the pyramid stage at Glastonbury. Further down the beach was a second stage – a bar with an elevated DJ booth in front, overlooking the dance floor and beach below.

 
The first day heralds the arrival of all – 4x4s from South Africa, overland trucks form God knows where, travellers from Mozambique, Tanzania and even Zimbabwe have made there way up, some on a whim, others had planned for months. The night before, while having a beer on one of the fantastic beach side bars, I feel slightly disappointed that almost everyone was white and British. This was supposed to be an African music festival surely? My fears are, however, allayed the next day when Malawians from all over the country arrive – they simply don't need to camp every night and probably look at our hardcore festival camping as somewhat bemusing, especially in the unyielding heat.

 
Streaming down the beach at lunchtime on the first day towards the main stage, we’re met with...well, not much. It’s eerily quiet, people mostly sheltering in the shade from the heat. It’s certainly pretty roasting. Sadly we were soon to learn that this would be a recurring theme throughout the festival, and a problem that the organisers should perhaps take a long hard look at for next year. While acts are programmed throughout the day, they rarely draw much of a crowd. Yes the heat’s a major factor, but it seems like there’s little to draw you to the stages during the day. Some of the terrible DJs on the main stage early on don’t help, with one playing every conceivable nineties pop/hip-hop crossover party tune conceivable (no, seriously, you name it, he played it.) Coming all the way to Africa to hear something you heard at uni house parties is slightly disappointing. As a friend says to me, “whatever the genre of music, it doesn't really matter, but I want to here something I haven't heard before, or that at least makes me go 'wow'.” This, unfortunately, is a continued criticism directed at some of the British DJs throughout the festival.

 
Soon however, as the sun sets, scores of people pour on to the main stage, lit up magnificently by a rocky outcrop. For the first time it starts to feel like a proper festival, with various African acts and UK DJs getting everyone moving. Mary Ann Hobbs bafflingly plays 24 hours early, meaning most of us miss her eagerly anticipated set. Apparently Ali B missed his flight, meaning she had to 'fill in'. Why one of the headline acts had to do this, meaning almost everyone we knew missed her, was slightly strange. Programming, as we soon learn, is a bit all over the place through the festival - especially at the bar, where house and techno DJs warm people up, only to be followed by a hip-hop and RnB DJ, or someone playing downtempo disco. Surely the reverse should be the case? It frustrates many of us who are looking for some sort of progression across the night. Over at the bar, Deviate's DJ Exel plays some bouncy dubstep, before his set is cut short by needles that refuse to stop skipping - a sound engineer that was nowhere to be seen. Oh dear.

 
On the main stage, Skitz certainly sets things off for the first time proper, easing his way through hip-hop classics old and new, before moving into breaks and old drum 'n' bass tunes á la DJ Marky 2003. It’s a classic set essentially, and it goes down well with the crowd. Jumping around under the African stars, it suddenly seems like our initial reservations are being extinguished by the wonderful company of our Malawian hosts and the truly dream-like setting.
 
Sore heads and soaring temperatures greeted us on Saturday. The daytime stages are again mostly empty, everyone seeming to roll around in the sand getting tanned or burnt depending on skin complexion/lack of suncream ($30 for a bottle from the stalls anyone?). While it’s a great laugh frolicking in the sun, there’s something telling me it would be an amazing sight to see everyone up dancing. Daytimes at festivals are surely meant for exactly that. Maybe extra, intimate small stages playing upbeat music during the day would help. Who knows, but again, it really is something the organisers need to look at.
 
Saturday night is greeted by some hefty winds, causing trouble for those on vinyl and a last minute scramble to wind-proof the kit on the main stage, ready for the imminent arrival of the Scratch Perverts. In the meantime, folk star Seth Lakeman warms things up how he does best, and the organisers should be credited with bringing over a British folk artist. Malawian legends the Black Missionaries literally blow the roof of the Malawian sky as the locals descend on the stage in a sea of drunken euphoria. It was certainly a sight to behold and a stark reminder of just how good some of the African music at the festival was, whether it was reggae, hip-hop or gospel-flavoured. As a platform for showcasing African music, the Lake of Stars needs to give itself one big pat on the back.

 
When the Scratch Perverts come on, they certainly feel like a headline act - the crowd the biggest that it had been on the main stage - and like Skitz, they ease their way through crowd-pleasing tunes, one after another, selected and mixed in their own inimitable way. Then disaster. Wind blows over amps, sound cuts out, only the monitors are left working. And it can't be fixed. Suddenly the crowd goes from ecstasy to standing around like lemons. It’s literally over in a flash. Over at the bar, yours truly and DJ Exel end up playing together until nearly 5, working through deep techy house and finishing with a bit of naughty techno to a rampant, captive crowd. Despite the main stage sound system packing up, watching hundreds of people still dancing at the bar at seven in the morning as the sun rises over Lake Malawi is a sight I'm sure most festival goers will not forget. Drunken chats with hilarious locals soon follow as we lay about in hammocks, dance in the lake or roll around in the sand.  
 
The final day proves to be a major wind down, jumping around to reggae at the bar, nursing sore heads and seeing how many gin and tonics it’s possible to drink while dancing in the lake. Not bad for the Sabbath.

 
And so what to make of it all? There were certainly problems. Empty stages all day, poor sound systems, sub-standard DJs, often baffling programming, and hotel staff that could not deal with the demands of so many hungry and thirsty customers. As one reveller noted on the final day: “It's basically a big beach party, isn't it? Not a festival.” But what should we expect? If the organisers want to make some small simple adjustments, they could turn it into something very slick and very good indeed.
 
But there is something telling me to not look at the festival through the prism of “how we do them at home”. First of all we're in Africa. Things are hard to get done, and things go wrong. Most kit has to be brought out from the UK as stow-away luggage. Will and his hard-working gang deserve a huge congratulations for just pulling the bloody thing off. Secondly, there is an undeniable charm to the Lake of Stars. It's in an overwhelmingly beautiful location, it showcases African music in Africa and gives East African artists a platform to perform to a diverse crowd from all over the world. Beyond that, the festival raises money for development in Malawi, not to mention the cash injection it must bring to the local economy. For most visitors, it is the fist stop in what will prove to be a visit to the one of the most unique and beautiful countries on the continent. Many then choose to continue onto Mozambique and Tanzania afterwards – and trust me, that is a trip of a lifetime.
 
With this in a mind, and looking back to the hundreds of revellers still dancing under the African sun on Monday morning, you can't help forget the festivals teething problems and embrace it for what it is. Simply a big party, by a lake, in Africa. Now that's cool. 
  
  
Photos by Tim Jones