Music festivals are places in which myths get disseminated. Their self-imposed boundaries encourage a sense of isolation from civilization, and once inside their physical and imagined limits it is easy to get caught up in a feeling of liberation from the pace of the world outside. However, these places absorb and appropriate whatever events are going on in the real world and imbue them with a significance so particular that it feels impossible to separate them from the context of the festival.

Gilles Peterson’s Worldwide Festival in Sète has such a mythical quality. On one level, the festival is everything its supporters claim: a factor 45 hit of sunshine, music, and dance. On another, it stops being an event in which people go to listen to their favourite music and becomes laden with legendary associations. In 2009, the festival found an emblem in Michael Jackson after his sudden and recent death, and his spirit recurred across sets. This July, the World Cup will undoubtedly shape the mood. However, there are specific Worldwide stories that exist in lieu of real news items and that somehow take precedence to them. Last summer, it was difficult not to overhear someone raving about Gilles Peterson’s marathon back-to-back session with Laurent Garnier at the beach party in 2008. This year, you’ll probably hear about Dorian Concept fighting a thunderstorm with great panache, Theo Parrish rewinding The Crusaders’ ‘Sweet n’ Sour’ on Gilles’ demanding request, and dancing away to ‘Thriller’ on a beach full of people illuminated by a full moon. The festival is made up by these moments, but even if you weren’t there to experience them firsthand, these stories draw you in rather than push you away. In hearing them you participate in their continuation and this process creates an inclusive sense of community that lies at the core of the event’s personality.

This community is not without its characters. Last summer I could not help but notice the emblematic and flamboyant figure Gui l’Amour ambling around in his custom-made Worldwide tailcoat. One night he was seen dancing on the main stage next to Carl Craig, another day he was furiously taking to a set of congas during Jazzamar’s beach set, and on another occasion, he was the man serving me at the bar. Or what about Montpellier’s answer to Kris Kross, in the form of two teenagers in bright matching shorts parading a vintage boombox around the beach on the last night? These people are as much the icons of the festival as the performers. With no overt division between public and artists, the festival feels welcoming at every level. And – as Theo Parrish’s energetic, if carefree performance demonstrated last July – the artists get lured in by the weather and the relaxed atmosphere and return a genuine humility, enthusiasm and friendliness.

Of course, the spirit of the festival is not only encapsulated in its people, but also in its four days worth of performances. Looking through the ever-growing line-up, it is difficult to anticipate who will deliver one of those magical Worldwide moments this year. Having said that, the recent confirmation of Gil Scott Heron opening the festival provides enough material to write a review already. This quality is far from singular, as this year’s edition boasts an unprecedented wealth of talent and variety. The latin-tinged live performances of Roberto Fonseca and Quantic y su Combo Bárbaro, and the voodoo afrobeat of the sensational Orchestre Poly Rhythmo de Cotonou promise to be a perfect soundtrack to the irresistible Sète sunsets in the Theatre de la Mer. And sets by the likes of Joy Orbison, Floating Points, and Norman Jay will put enough pep in your step to glide you deep into the early hours. Nonetheless, it must be noted that this festival buzzes around the clock: not only do the parties keep you up late, but the beach gets you up early too. In other words, just plan on sleeping when you get home.

Last year, a friend observed how the moment the last note of ‘Beautiful’ by L.A.O.S. was played at 4am on a Monday morning, the countdown to this year’s edition had commenced. He was right, and that is the Worldwide Effect: a feeling that amounts to more than the inevitable reshuffle of iPod playlists that will occur during the summer months as people attempt to recreate the warmth, vibe, and happiness of the experience. It is a complete alteration of people’s capacity to think and talk about anything else. The festival’s boundless energy and spirit sucks you in and makes you want to come back again and again. I’m just happy that the countdown is finally coming to a close. It’s almost time for some octopus pie again.

www.worldwidefestival.com

John M. Gómez