September 1, 2026 |
Around 11pm on the closing night of We Out Here Festival, while the rest of the county was likely sleeping, some punters may have started to wind down. Set to come to a close an hour later, the weekend-long event, which made unlikely neighbours of artists like Joy Crookes, Arthur Verocai and K-Lone, had already given its ticket holders a tremendous time. With Anz performing on Thursday, Wookie on Friday, Re:ni on Saturday and countless others slotting in around them, it would be understandable if Peterson’s jolly band of movers and shakers were a little bit bloody knackered by the final hours of Sunday evening. If they were, however, they weren’t anywhere near The Beat Hotel.
Partnering with Illegal Mezcal, a producer of artisanal spirits conjured in the villages of Oaxaca, The Beat Hotel was buzzing and alive. Nestled on the right-hand side of the site, opposite the cavernous expanse of The Bowl, people spilled out from every edge of its rectangular structure. The crowd pulsed in time with the infectious rhythm of Roach Motel’s Happy Bizzness, its lyrics – “I party to Sunday, don’t go to work on Monday, ain’t nobody’s business if I do” – pouring out from the speakers like a sermon for ravers. The spiritual leader for those final two hours? House aficionado Prosumer.
The tables to one side of the stage – used during the day as a station for chomping down on sweet and spicy delights cooked on a live fire by the Acme Tacos team – had become makeshift platforms, peppered with friends and strangers alike soaking up every second they had left on the dancefloor. One man, dressed head-to-toe in gold spandex, wore gloves with multicoloured lasers beaming from their fingertips, swishing his hands up and down until the space resembled a scene akin to Mission: Impossible if it were sponsored by Pride Month.
It was this distinct vibrancy that set The Beat Hotel apart. This year marked the first time the roaming party – founded in 2011 and since responsible for dancefloors across the UK, Morocco and Spain – joined forces with the We Out Here team. The fit was glove-like. Further elevated by its collaboration with Illegal Mezcal, whose smoky and sweet Reposado and Joven became the backbone of drinks like the Mezcalita, made with fresh lime, agave and crushed ice, and the Rhubarb Paloma, mixed with fresh lime, Kazimo rhubarb and grapefruit soda, the space took on the colours, warmth and energy of Latin America. The corners were decorated with lush vegetation, while tapestries and photographs depicting vivid flora and fauna hung from its wooden walls. Behind the bar, vintage posters advertising Ilegal were pasted alongside grainy film photographs of agave farmers. The same visual collage sat behind the decks where the likes of Alex Kassian, DJ Subaru, Ruf Dug and Al Wootton took to the stage, each whipping up their own riotous, joyful crowd.
Throughout the weekend, this little punchy pocket carved out something special within an already pretty spectacular festival. Bathed in the scarlet glow of neon signs and populated by punters of every kind, The Beat Hotel seemed to exist on its own terms. Where other stages – Rhythm Corner, Lush Life and The Bowl, for example – are threaded into We Out Here’s fabric, The Beat Hotel wove its own tapestry. While embracing the event’s core ethos of community, culture and celebration, this fresh addition to the canon offered up a portal to another world – one where the mezcal flowed, the pineapple was ripe and the music beckoned you into the fold. And that particular Sunday evening, as the sun set over Wimborne St Giles and announced the end of the best weekend of my year, I, like my fellow Beat Hotel guests, also had no interest in going to bed. Why would you?
Photography by Sandra Nagel and Marc Sethi, courtesy of The Beat Hotel.
