What follows is a retrospective review of Watching Trees 2025. Scroll down for an embedded link to a recording of Matt Anniss’s ‘Watching Morning 2’ set, recorded live at the festival on Saturday 31st May 2025, and more information about it.

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In her 2007 book Dancing In The Streets, American journalist and historian Barbara Ehrenreich argues that humans have always needed to gather together and experience “collective joy”. This is not a particularly controversial argument – those immersed in live music, club culture and the free party scene have made it on countless occasions – but it is one that bears repeating, especially as this basic need often rubs up against the desires of those ‘in control’ – usually states, religious organisations and wealthy landowners.

Ehrenreich’s book looks in detail at this aspect of human behaviour and the ways in which it has been expressed over the course of thousands of years, mixing history with cultural theory perspectives rooted in social anthropology (most notably Victor Turner’s ideas around liminality and communitas, the latter a feeling of warmth, well-being and, well, joy experienced by those in a liminal state).

In the book, Ehrenreich variously details ancient bacchanalian ceremonies up wooded mountains, trance-inducing dance rituals and initiation ceremonies, rural agricultural celebrations, pagan festivals, the dynamics of sports crowds and Gratfeul Dead fandom – as well as the various crackdowns by church and state that these communal celebrations have inspired. Curiously, Ehrenreich doesn’t explore rave culture – whether of the illicit free party variety or licensed events – though she does concede at one point that it fits her argument.

Unusually, Ehrenreich’s book popped into my head late on Saturday night a couple of weeks ago, while I was in the middle of the celebratory throng gathered inside the tiny woodland glade known as Isle of Everywhere – the main stage and focal point of Watching Trees, Optimo and Ransom Note’s superb, 500-capacity festival hidden away in rural North Wiltshire.

Excited by this connection between Ehrenreich’s often academic arguments and the moment I was immersed in, I turned to my friends Ali and Joe and said: “You know what this festival is? It’s an expression of collective joy”.

I have been to many festivals, free parties, secret shindigs and large-scale events over the years, and encountering such a clear, life-affirming and rush-inducing expression of collective joy is genuinely unusual. Of course, every festival, free party and rave – or at least the good ones – inspires collective moments, but they’re frequently fleeting; a reaction to a particular tune being dropped, a singalong to a favourite song, or an unusual happening that becomes the stuff of legend.

To become an “expression of collective joy”, at least in my reading, it needs all those at the event to be on the same page, for the stars to align (metaphorically speaking), and for there to be a kind of unity of purpose. Experiences need to be shared by a majority, at least, which is why it is much harder for larger festivals to create such conditions and elicit such a response. If you’re at Glastonbury, as an example, there are countless different options to choose from and almost as many experiences as there are individuals present on site. 50,000 people clustered around the Pyramid Stage may exerpeince an outporing of collective joy during a particular headliner’s set, but those elsewhere on site will be immersed in their own particular world, whether that’s dancing with strangers, hanging out with mates or desperately trying to hang on to their buzz while trapsing across the colossal site.

For a genuine expression of collective joy to occur, everything needs to be right – and since it was established in 2023, that has certainly been the case with Watching Trees. It has evolved as an event, with the organisers and event team making incremental improvements and subtle changes, but it remains small-scale and all the better for it. To date, it has been held in three different locations: a patch of woodland on the fringes of the Forest of Dean, a tightly packed warren of woods and meadows on an estate in North Wiltshire and, this year, in a slightly roomier wooded area within the same expansive country estate.

For me, this year’s location was the best yet. Finding it was a little tricky – access was via one of two partially hidden tracks off a relatively sleepy A-road, then a short drive down through a field – but once there it felt genuinely secluded. At one point I wandered up to the top of the entrance track to keep one of the volunteers company and it was near impossible to hear the thud of the soundsystem, despite it being just a couple of kilometres away.

The size and shape of this year’s site and the way it was logically laid out, with camping areas and natural arenas of various sizes off a central meadow (which boasted a bar, seating, food vendors, the festival shop and additional music spaces… as well as a few sound sculptures), helped bring everyone together without it ever feeling cramped. You could find your own space while bumping into familiar faces or getting into conversations with future friends.

While the setting is significant equally as important is the care and attention taken in terms of locating stages, the quality of the soundsystems within them, and how both are integrated into the natural environment. This year, Isle of Everywhere – always the focal point, for this is where people dance and spend big portions of their time – was nestled in a small floor-level clearing within the woods, accessed through a smartly (and colourfully lit) path from the central meadow.

While there was a small stage to host live performances, sat beneath a bespoke wooden structure and inventive décor, DJs were stationed at ground level, allowing an intimate connection between artist and crowd. Watching Trees is not a festival that throws up boundaries between performers and punters; everyone, as it should be, is equal and part of the performance and collective experience. The soundsystem was, once again, exemplary, set out in a surround sound formation with stacks sat between chunky tree trunks. It was a space to lose yourself in while feeling the earth beneath your feet and the canopies of ancient trees above your head. Whatever state you were in, it was a terrific place to dance and be one with other like-minded souls.

Isle of Everywhere ran from lunchtime until 2 or 3 in the morning, with more laidback DJ sets and live performances (a fine opening slot from Glasgow crate-diggers 12th Isle on Friday, a superb rush through soulful flavours by West London great Shy One on Saturday, some late Sunday morning cosmic rock headiness from Gong) being joined by more forthright excursions (a killer jungle rinse-out on Saturday night from Budino, a typically bold, energetic and rushing Friday night peak-time session from Midland), interesting live performances (Al Wootton, Tom Sharkett), and the kind of inspired, anything-goes party sets that have always been at the heart of what Optimo do (with JD Twitch sadly missing through illness, Jonnie Wilkes delivered this in spades solo, both on Friday night, where he had the crowd belting out ‘Blind’ by Hercules and Love Affair, and to round things off on Sunday). In the latter category, special mentions must go to Nabihah Iqbal and Parris, who is fast becoming a Sunday lunchtime staple.

In addition to Isle of Everywhere, there were two other spaces of significance (as well as an additional chill-out space, named West Runton Pavilion, where occasional experimental audio excursions were held). The first, new for this year, was ‘Bush of Ghosts’, a unique ambient area constructed within the woods, where punters could relax on hay bales while listening to meditative sounds played from a DJ booth constructed from twigs and tree branches.

For me, this was the revelation of the event. It was relatively sparsely used, frequently late at night, but provided beautiful and becalmed music whenever operative. Brian D’Souza AKA Auntie Flo donned his Ambient Flo guise for an extended session on Friday night/early Saturday morning, while Tia Cousins and Wil Troup’s Music To Watch Seeds Go By project curated the next night. This included sublime sets from Tom Sharkett and Jaye Ward, who also rounded off Saturday night in Isle of Everywhere in fine dancefloor style.

Then there was Espacio, the event’s 24-hour fixture. This hosted a blend of films (both silent and soundtracked), talks (an extended Saturday takeover from White Rabbit Books featuring, amongst others, David Keenan, Steve Davis, Justin Robertson – looking as dapper as ever –  and Zofia Page), interesting live performances (Zoviet France, Froid Dub and Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor all performed at different points) and more horizontal or eccentric DJ sets (Tia Cousins and Rosie Ama playing classic crooners in the early hours being a particular favourite, alongside the usual excellence of Swiss techno royalty Princess P and the late-night head-nodders from Matt Cowell).

It was in Espacio where I made my contribution to the event – a gentle, Saturday morning ambient set. You can read more about this, and listen to the recording, below this event review.

But back to the topic in hand: Watching Trees 2025 as an expression of collective joy. While the setting, sounds and so on played a big role in enabling this, the chief architects of this outporing of communal joy were the people themselves. This comes from the top of course – the organisers and production crew are all terrific people with great values, ably assisted by the nicest event volunteers you will ever encounter – but that means little if the crowd is stuffed with absolute whoppers.

I’ve said before that the event is refreshingly “dickhead free” and that continued this year, despite the presence of lots of first-time attendees. A portion of the crowd are of course friends and members of the two key ‘tribes’ involved (Optimo and Ransom Note), but plenty of others aren’t. There are no cliques, no barriers, and friendliness abounds. Over the course of the weekend, I bumped into familiar faces and spent loads of time with old mates who I’ve not seen in ages, but also met loads of amazing people. That’s how it should be, but sadly rarely is.

This aspect was undoubtedly helped by the event’s long-held “no phones on the dancefloor” policy, which not only encourages losing yourself in the moment, but also encourages socialisation – if you’re not fiddling with your phone, you’re focused on the here and now. It certainly worked; about the only time I glanced at my phone was when I was back in the camping field. As a result, I took the grand sum of two photographs all weekend – and both of those were from the Espacio DJ booth while I performed!

I’ll see you at the same time next year for another weekend-long expression of collective joy.

Watching Morning 2 (recorded live at Watching Trees 2025)

I feel blessed and genuinely honoured that I am trusted to perform at Watching Trees – and I say that as someone who has played DJ sets or hosted talks at quite a few festivals over the years. I made my DJ bow at the 2024 edition, popping up in Espacio on the Sunday morning to play an ambient and downtempo set I christened “watching morning”. This year, I was asked to reprise that role, this time on Saturday morning (unlike last year, which was a 24-hour party, this one took place over a weekend).

It was an early start this time, as my set was preceded by a screening of Stroud trio KiF Productions’ superb ambient road movie (and wholehearted tribute to the KLF’s ‘ambient house’ masterpiece, Chill Out), and a short Q&A that I hosted (described by a friend of mine, who was a little on the refreshed side at the time, as a ‘surprise Q&A’, even though it was scheduled). When that concluded at 9am, I took over.

This time, I came armed with my trusty SP-404 portable sampler laden with field recordings and spoken word snippets, as well as a wealth of “watching morning” versions I’d prepared especially for the occasion. Oh, and a wide range of ambient, folk, fourth world amd immersive, beat-free tracks.

I felt genuinely inspired by the space and the overwhelming good vibes – the sunshine we were treated to all weekend helped – not to mention the presence of a mixture of still-going party freaks and early risers. As the two and a half-hour set progressed, more punters arrived to sit around in the sunshine (and the shade), while 30 or 40 people did “slow yoga” opposite the tent. It was a wonderful sight and I certainly appreciated the hearty applause I received (which was a nice surprise) when the set concluded.

This year, I actually remembered to record the set. You’ll find the set recording embedded above (Soundcloud) and below (after the tracklisting – Mixcloud). Personally, I think it is a more magical, atmospheric and site-specific excursion than last year’s (a later reconstruction of which can be found here), but then I would say that!

The cover artwork features a piece of artwork by my mum, textile artist Marion Anniss, entitled ‘Summer’ (2024). It’s part of a series of four pieces inspired by the seasons, with another (‘Autumn’) on display above my mantelpiece at home. Prints of ‘Summer’ and the other seasons pieces are available – head here for more information.

Tracklisting: Watching Morning 2 (live at Watching Trees 2025)

Mixed by Matt Anniss.

Richard Hawley – As The Dawn Breaks (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Clearing – Morning Has Broken (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
A Man Called Adam – Speaking In Tongues
Popol Vuh – Aguire I Lacime Di Rei (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe & Airel Kalma – Mille Voix
Matt Anniss – Norfolk Commune Rhapsody (Watching Trees)
Black Hill & Silent Island – Dawn (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Broads – Sloe Foresting
John Martyn – Small Hours
Warren Hampshire – I Just Didn’t Think You’d Care
Mac-Talla Nan Craeg – The Ballad Of Glen Nevis
Lisa Gerard & Pieter Bourke – See The Sun (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Takashi Kokubu & Andrea Esperti – Gaia’s Love Theme
Jorge Reyes – Plight
The Lovin’ Spoonful – Coconut Grove
Broads – Long Leaves
Kate Rusby – Today Again (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Ulrich Schnauss & Jonas Munk – Along Deserted Streets
JS Dony – Focus (Folk Version – Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
High Plains – Cinderland
DJRum – L’Ancienne (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Susan Deyhim & Richard Howowitz – Desert Equations
Pat Metheny & Lyle Mays – It’s For You
Mirko – As The Morning
Benoit B – Zanzibar Sunrise (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
Tomorrow The Rain Will Fall Upwards – I Beat As I Sleep As I Dream (Matt Anniss Watching Morning Version)
James Bright – You Are The Sky
Dam Swindle – Home
Alex Kassian x Spooky – Orange Coloured Liquid (Part II)
Ennio Morricone – Deborah’s Theme