By Sunday, The Long Road Festival had found its rhythm. The fields of Stanford Hall carried the easy sway of a crowd sunburnt but unbowed, moving slower but still humming with anticipation. Chrome gleamed in the Lucky Dice Car Show, the smell of barbecue drifted lazily on the breeze, and six stages offered the final promise of fire, surprise, and catharsis.
Robbie Cavanagh @ The Long Road Festival 2025
Halle Kearns opened the day with breezy charm, her clean pop-country hooks catching the light like fireflies. Pick Me Up and Are You Okay? felt like quiet morning anthems, both playful and reassuring, while newer material hinted at a songwriter capable of marrying radio-ready polish with emotional honesty. The early risers who made it to her set left with grins and swaying shoulders.
If Kearns was sunlight, Evan Bartels was shadow. His set of poetic, introspective Americana stilled the air, each lyric carrying the weight of lived experience. Songs like She Doesn’t Lie and The Devil, God & Me cut through with unflinching vulnerability, his gravelled baritone turning the tent into a hushed church. It wasn’t about spectacle — it was about connection, and Bartels delivered in spades.
Fancy Hagood returned for his second appearance of the weekend and confirmed himself as one of The Long Road’s breakout favourites. With flamboyance and magnetic presence, he strutted, twirled, and bantered with the crowd, delivering Forest and Southern Sound like love letters wrapped in glitter. “Too gay for Nashville, too country for California,” he declared once again, and the roar of affirmation was deafening. Hagood has a knack for turning vulnerability into theatre, and in that moment, the Rhinestone belonged entirely to him.
The energy rolled straight into Nolan Taylor, whose youthful presence and raw, unvarnished delivery won over fans quickly. His mix of confessional ballads and ragged, upbeat numbers struck a chord with younger festivalgoers, proving that the next wave of Americana is already here.
Then came These Wicked Rivers — an unrelenting blast of grit and southern rock swagger. With duelling guitars, hair flying, and riffs heavy enough to rattle pint glasses, they channelled the spirit of Lynyrd Skynyrd while injecting it with Midlands fire. They turned the field into a barroom brawl in the best possible way.
Will Varley & the Southern Rust kept the throttle open, leaning on big choruses, chest-thumping rhythms, and Varley’s commanding vocals. Their set was as raw as it was raucous, a reminder that sometimes the simplest formula — big hooks, big sound, big heart — is the one that works best.
A midday wander to the Lucky Dice Car Show provided respite, rows of Harley-Davidsons and muscle cars glinting in the sun. It was Americana made steel and chrome: part nostalgia, part spectacle, part living history. Kids clambered over polished fenders, veterans swapped stories, and the hum of engines mingled with distant pedal steel.
Back at the stages, Colour Me Country delivered one of the weekend’s most meaningful chapters. Jordan’s heartfelt set offered delicate honesty, while Chris Linton’s smooth vocals brought soul to the Rhinestone. Denitia’s genre-defying blend of R&B warmth and Americana storytelling widened the festival’s lens, and David Unlayao — the Filipino Cowboy — delivered an impassioned performance that fused heritage with heartland sound. Together, they proved that country is bigger, broader, and richer than any stereotype.
The afternoon kept unfolding with fresh textures. Erin Kinsey sparkled with polished pop-country sheen, her songs tailor-made for summer playlists, while Trousdale dazzled with harmonies so tight they seemed woven from a single breath. They delivered one of the most musically accomplished sets of the weekend, their blend of vulnerability and empowerment resonating across the field.
Alana Springsteen grounded things with lived-in sincerity, her mix of heartbreak anthems and bold self-assurance anchoring the day in authenticity. Effortlessly weaving between vulnerable ballads and empowering singalongs, she proved herself a commanding presence, resonating with both longtime fans and first-time listeners. Her ability to turn personal stories into universal moments gave her set a weight that lingered long after the final chord.
As evening shadows stretched, The White Buffalo stalked the stage with cinematic intensity. With his deep, growling voice and brooding arrangements, he painted widescreen landscapes that could have been lifted straight from a Cormac McCarthy novel. Wish It Was True had the crowd hanging on every syllable, while newer songs revealed a storyteller still at the peak of his powers.
Robbie Cavanagh countered with stripped-back intimacy. Dressed in a denim cowhide two-piece and sipping an Old Fashioned mid-song, he exuded quiet confidence. His set was proof that sometimes all you need is a guitar, a voice, and stories worth telling.
Meanwhile, Evan Bartels re-emerged for another slot, this time bringing a touch more grit and charm, balancing Saturday-night energy with his signature rawness.
Then came Seasick Steve — chaos incarnate. Armed with battered homemade guitars, he tore into swampy riffs and stomping grooves with reckless glee. At one point, he halted mid-song to break up a scuffle in the crowd, threatening to “kick their asses” himself. The eruption of cheers may have been the loudest of the entire festival. In that moment, Seasick Steve wasn’t just a performer — he was a folk hero, equal parts bluesman and bouncer, commanding the field with unpredictable ferocity.
Colby Acuff picked up the pieces with rugged outlaw grit, his weathered voice and whiskey-soaked storytelling striking a chord with fans craving authenticity. Kezia Gill brought fire and fury, her powerhouse vocals filling every corner of the field, while newcomer Alyssa Flathery stunned with poise and promise, marking herself as a future star in the making.
Kezia Gill’s set was one of the afternoon’s most striking displays of raw power and emotional depth. A natural storyteller with a commanding stage presence, she blended classic country influences with rock grit, her voice soaring from tender whispers to roaring intensity without ever losing its control. Songs like Whiskey Drinking Woman had the crowd stomping and hollering along, while her more introspective numbers revealed a vulnerability that only deepened her connection with the audience. Gill doesn’t just perform; she lays herself bare, and in doing so, she turned the Rhinestone tent into a space of both celebration and catharsis.
Newcomer Alyssa Flaherty brought a refreshing spark to the lineup, her crystalline vocals cutting through the afternoon haze with effortless clarity. Balancing youthful charm with songs that hinted at a maturity beyond her years, she left the crowd with the sense that they were witnessing the start of something special.
And then James Bay closed it all. With his trademark hat and soulful charisma, he guided the crowd through a set that blended intimacy with anthemic release. From Let It Go to Hold Back the River, his soaring choruses turned thousands of individual voices into one unified roar. Bay’s set wasn’t just a finale — it was catharsis, affirmation, and celebration. Any whispers of doubt that he belonged on a stage of this magnitude were silenced, replaced by arms raised and faces glowing.
Day three was a rollercoaster: gentle dawn sets, rock-fuelled grit, cultural celebration, and Seasick Steve’s legendary chaos. With James Bay’s cathartic closer, the festival’s final chapter cemented itself as a celebration of soul, community, and the unpredictable thrill of live performance.
Three days, six stages, and more than 80 artists proved that The Long Road Festival is far more than a music event. It is culture, it is community, it is everything Americana aspires to be.
It was Liam St. John soaking himself in beer, Fantastic Negrito shaking the ground awake, Fancy Hagood turning fields into a party, Midland swaggering through chaos, and Seasick Steve threatening to restore order with his own two hands. It was moonshine cocktails under the sun, strangers harmonising in Buddy’s Bar, and James Bay uniting thousands in a final chorus.
In 2025, The Long Road didn’t just showcase country and Americana — it made them feel unstoppable.
The Long Road Festival 2025 – Day Two: Swagger, Soul & Moonshine
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