The Maccabees + Editors + Miles Kane + Anna Calvi + Ash + Badly Drawn Boy + Lime Garden @ Brighton Beach, Brighton 25th July 2026
On The Beach returned under the stewardship of Joy, Louder and C2, whose summer series has been steadily drawing distinctive line-ups to Brighton’s shoreline. This particular instalment started with Lime Garden’s hometown spark, then moved through Badly Drawn Boy’s fragile solo turn, Ash’s alt-rock charge, Anna Calvi’s brooding intensity, Miles Kane’s glam-leaning swagger and Editors’ cinematic surge, all leading to The Maccabees, whose headline return gave the day its most anticipated moment.
Lime Garden
Brighton’s own Lime Garden opened with the kind of bright, off-kilter indie pop that immediately pulled the early crowd into motion. Their rhythm section, Tippi Morgan’s elastic, dance-leaning basslines locked tight to Annabel Whittle’s crisp drums, gave the set its bounce, contrasting beautifully with Leila Deeley’s stunning free-form, shape-shifting guitar work. Chloe Howard’s cool, conversational vocals threaded everything together with humour and a slacker-punk edge.
By Lifestyle, pockets of early dancers were already moving, and Clockwork’s starker, shifting groove kept that momentum alive. A standout moment came with Cross My Heart, where a funky bassline turned the beachfront into a sway-along zone, being one of those impossible-to-stand-still songs. They closed with 23, its rockier edges still carrying that indie-dance feel, giving the opener real lift.
Energetic, colourful and unpretentious, Lime Garden looked right at home. A perfect hometown start to the day.
Badly Drawn Boy
Badly Drawn Boy’s fragile solo set shifted the atmosphere into something more unsettled. The performance was understated by nature, but felt disorganised and oddly adrift. Damon Gough opened with retuning issues, joking about losing a song to the process, and the flow never quite settled. Requests to the sound desk for added vocal echo mid-set only added to the sense of an artist not fully locked in.
The crowd’s disengagement was palpable, and for a while it seemed to work both ways. When Gough shared that his mother had passed away only weeks earlier, the atmosphere shifted; the audience leaned in with more empathy, and he responded with flashes of wry comments, even asking for clap-along support “or I get bored shitless”. But despite those moments, the performance understandably remained emotionally heavy and shaped by personal circumstance.
Ash
That lull made Ash’s arrival feel like a reset – a sharp, high-energy jolt that snapped the afternoon back into motion. Ash reminded everyone exactly why they’ve survived three decades of British guitar music.
From the opening bars of Fun People and Ad Astra, the trio felt noticeably livelier, with Tim Wheeler driving the melodies, Mark Hamilton’s bass adding muscle and Rick McMurray’s drumming giving everything that tight, propulsive backbone.
The mid-set shift into Shining Light brought a welcome change of pace: softer, more melodic and instantly pulling more dancers into motion. Wheeler leaned into the moment, holding his guitar aloft in classic rock-pose fashion. Oh Yeah kept that warmth going, with pockets of the crowd singing along.
Their cover of Jump in the Line added an old-school rock ’n’ roll jolt before Kung Fu snapped things back into fast, post-punk brightness. By Girl from Mars, the beachfront was fully engaged. The crowd recognised it from the first note and sang along from the first words, complete with a playful false ending.
Ash closed with Burn Baby Burn, a fast, energetic finale that genuinely reignited the afternoon. A sharp, hook-heavy reminder of Ash’s staying power.
Anna Calvi
From Ash’s hook-heavy charge, the day moved into darker, more cinematic territory as Anna Calvi reshaped the beach with brooding intensity.
Anna Calvi’s performance opened in pure Calvi fashion: all three musicians dressed in black, framed against a stark red backdrop, stepping into the wordless, cinematic surge of Rider to the Sea. It set a brooding tone that continued into Suzanne and I, where Calvi’s vocals shifted between delicate softness and late-night club intimacy.
Indies or Paradise pushed things darker and louder, its solo section offering a glimpse of her extraordinary guitar technique, tension and that elemental Calvi force. Wish brought post-punk intensity, moving from haunted whispers to full-bodied screams, while Don’t Beat the Girl Out of My Boy showcased her tenderness, capped by an astonishingly long high note that earned mid-song applause.
The set’s wildest moment came later, with Calvi throwing her mic stand aside and playing guitar on her knees, then on her back. Yet despite these flashes, the show felt like a slow burner and more restrained than her most explosive live outings.
Miles Kane
Miles Kane brought full-tilt swagger, arriving with leopard-print amps, a no-nonsense rock ’n’ roll band and the kind of strutting confidence that’s become his trademark.
From the opening Cry on My Guitar, he was already geeing up the crowd – “Let’s have it!” – and Troubled Son pushed things into punkier, fast-paced territory that immediately got bodies moving. Without You and Blame It on the Summertime leaned into his glam-pop instincts, the latter delivered on acoustic guitar with an upbeat, singalong brightness.
By Rearrange, Kane had the front rows fully engaged: hands in the air, pockets of dancing spreading across the beach. Sunlight in the Shadows shifted into heavier rock, its a cappella section snapping into a louder, faster release.
The penultimate Don’t Forget Who You Are carried hints of rockabilly swagger before Come Closer closed the set with a glam-stomp surge and a predictable but satisfying frenzy of a finale. Kane delivered a high-octane, charismatic set built for a festival crowd.
Editors
Editors arrived as the sixth act of the day and immediately shifted the day into darker, more cinematic territory. The band filled the stage, framed by a torn cloth backdrop that let fractured beams of light spill through. A striking visual for a band built on tension, shadow and widescreen drama.
Opening with The Racing Rats and Munich, they leaned into tuneful alternative anthems that connected instantly, the crowd clapping along to the drummer’s instrumental breaks. Sugar brought a heavier, brooding turn, with Tom Smith crouched at the front of the stage as that slow, pulsing weight rolled across the beach.
The set moved confidently through eras: the driving urgency of An End Has a Start, the melodic lift of A Ton of Love and the atmospheric swell of The Rush. The penultimate track, All the Kings, shifted the mood, building from mellow introspection into a full-band rise, Smith rocking an acoustic guitar.
They closed their slot with Papillon, its synth-driven new-wave edge erupting into a final, full-throttle anthem. There was a sea of hands and a mass clap-along as Editors delivered a precision-built surge before the final act took over.
The Maccabees
By the time Editors closed, the beach felt primed and ready for the emotional weight and communal lift of The Maccabees’ long-awaited headline return, which felt both celebratory and quietly momentous.
Their name lit up across the backdrop, a glitter ball turning overhead as a low synth hum rolled out and the crowd erupted. Expanded with trumpet and keys, they opened with Love You Better, the beach instantly singing along. Latchmere brought rockier bite and wave-like hand gestures sweeping through the crowd, before Lego pushed the energy higher with the band urging everyone forward.
Feel to Follow shifted the tone, introduced by a lone trumpeter before melting into a mellower, dance-leaning groove, parts sung over just bass and drums.
Between songs, they shared the band’s Brighton story: growing up in South London, coming here for art school and then playing their first shows in the city. It was a moment that deepened the connection between band and audience.
First Love became a full-beach singalong, with the encouragement, “If you know the songs, sing like your life depends on it.” Precious Time kept the momentum, demanding “vertical movement” and getting it as the crowd jumped along.
Later, Toothpaste Kisses offered a tender ballad shift, complete with whistling that drew a huge cheer, before X-Ray snapped back into fast, clipped early-era urgency. The reflective new track Ballad of So Long held the beach in attentive silence, its trumpet line and slow bloom warmly received.
Something Like Happiness lifted voices again before the band briefly left the stage. They returned under dark red light for No Kind Words, finishing with Pelican, a lively, arms-aloft finale with fans on shoulders and a final backdrop reading simply: “Thank You.”
A triumphant, emotionally rich headline return.
Across seven acts, the crowd’s energy moved in waves, with a bright start from Lime Garden, a brief dip as the afternoon shifted, a gradual rebuild through Ash and Editors in particular, and finally The Maccabees pushing the beach into full-voiced release.
As a whole, the event delivered a good day: moments of real lift, a few uneven patches and a headline set that provided the emotional centre. A solid instalment in Joy, Louder and C2’s summer On The Beach series.
WORDS: PETER GREENFIELD PHOTOS: CRIS WATKINS
FULL GALLERY FROM THE MACCABEES ON THE BEACH, BRIGHTON
