Shambala 2026 | How To Put On A Festival During A Climate Crisis

Kaya Oatley

8 years in the game and still at it, I’m a photographer and musician based in Bristol. I love the music scene with my whole heart and capturing the little moments that might be missed is all I want to do. Big canon apologist, tiny camera fanatic and fond of anything that reminds me of Frank Ferdinand.

With highlights from Bob Vylan, Los Bitchos and many more, Shambala 2026 was a masterclass in how to put on a sustainable festival in 2026

I truly believe Shambala to be The Best One. Now, obviously this is a deeply subjective opinion, but I’ll give you my credentials. I’ve been attending festivals since my first year of life, which nowadays looks like babies and toddlers in roomy carts festooned with fairy lights and brand name ear defenders, but back in my day it was more of a wheelbarrow and some sheepskins in the corner of the dance tent.

I have been to festivals small and large, filled with new-age hippies or teens off their nut. Shambala exists in a little world of its own, with a fully varied age range, all the theatre of Boomtown, all the community of Beautiful Days and a truly banging line up. More importantly than any of that though, is its focus on sustainability and putting on a show that doesn’t hurt the planet. All food on site is vegetarian and each meal sold let you know how carbon friendly it was. The reusable cup scheme ensures the bar’s make almost no trash and the punters show up accordingly: It’s one of the few UK festivals in which every tent is taken home.

Every festival boasts having something for everyone, but I’ve never seen the promise quite as well delivered as Shambala. The main stage was a constant change, with no two sets being of the same genre. Joshua Idehen had the crowd running the full gamut from tears to belly laughs with his poetry and music. It was one of those sets where the time disappears under you, you forget you’re due to go and see a puppet show, and spend the hour smiling so hard your face hurts a bit after.

Bob Vylan’s set was one for the history books, with the band on a high note after suing the BBC for defamation and winning. The crowd were in a frenzy, and lead singer Bobby Vylan had a stage presence that had everyone jumping alongside him. The set was a reminder of what punk rock at its core should be: excellent music that reminds you why the system should make you angry.

Los Bitchos put on an absolute banger of a show; everyone danced their socks and sometimes their wellies off as well – the mud had reached a high point by then. The band blends deeply technically impressive musicality with the fun turned up to 100. It’s rare for a band with no vocals to be so thoroughly engaging, but my god do they manage it. They were also kind enough to sit down with us beforehand and talk about who’s inspiring them at the minute, as well as their new album which is chock full of unique collaborations with different artists – definitely one to check out.

On Sunday the line up had me running all over the shop. Night Tapes played one of the most ethereal sets I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing, creating a soundscape to soundtrack a drive around LA in the 80’s. Lead singer Liris Vesik‘s vocals were so impressive, it felt impossible that they were happening live. The whole crowd was fully entranced.

I also got down to see Porij play an excellent gig, with a live trumpet cover of ‘Pump It‘ by The Black Eyed Peas that took away all my Sunday blues. Prima Queen hit the stage with all the indie rock I’d been looking for, with lyrics that felt both deeply personal yet poetic. The band has the chemistry on stage that you can only get from making music alongside someone for a decade.

We were lucky enough to have a chat with them about it, and they talked about how the honesty they have with each other has a deeper layer, with one of them often able to intuit things about the other’s experience before they have. The candor and rawness this brings to the band’s music is palpable, and they were a lot of fun to watch live.

All in, Shambala describes itself as a utopia and I’m inclined to agree. A heady little daydream of a place which puts its money where its mouth is in terms of the sustainability instead of just paying lip service, as we’ve all seen happen at festivals this year. You can watch aerial performers in a tent that feels like a stained-glass-windowed bar in Manhattan, watch your favourite artist play a tiny set in a secret jazz venue (Nubiyan Twist on Saturday) and get lost in woods filled with light installations. Or you can spend the whole weekend in that one disco tent all your mates fell in love with on Thursday, who am I to judge! Bloody good show, and looking forward to whatever next year brings.