REGGAE GEEL 2026: Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Text, Pho­tos & Videos: Ellen Köh­lings


It’s actu­al­ly hard to believe that our Reg­gae Geel debut didn’t take place until 2026. For one thing, the dead­line for the print edi­tion of RIDDIM kept us from cov­er­ing it; for anoth­er, the Reg­gae Jam—which often takes place at the same time and has held the top spot in the RIDDIM read­er poll for many years—got in the way. But as the say­ing goes: Good things come to those who wait!

So on Thurs­day, we’re head­ing to Geel, Bel­gium, for the moth­er of all Euro­pean reg­gae fes­ti­vals. The first edi­tion took place in 1978—an incred­i­ble 48 years ago!!! And much like the Roto­tom sto­ry, it began as a small, inti­mate open-air reg­gae par­ty orga­nized by a few friends.

After we’ve set­tled in briefly, we’ll take a free shut­tle bus from the Geel train sta­tion direct­ly to the fes­ti­val grounds. It runs all weekend—we didn’t even have to wait more than ten min­utes. At night, you can either hop on a bike—for which there’s a ded­i­cat­ed park­ing area on the fes­ti­val grounds—take a taxi, or plan on a longer walk.

Pass­ing the camp­ground, we turn left onto the fes­ti­val grounds via wide wood­en planks, with a sort of per­go­la dec­o­rat­ed with col­or­ful fab­rics over­head. Just beyond that is the impres­sive­ly com­pact Serendip­i­ty Sound Sys­tem, a self-suf­fi­cient, mobile set­up that can be set up any­where with­out rely­ing on exter­nal pow­er.

To the left, a path leads through a bazaar into the food area, which could use a wider selec­tion of veg­e­tar­i­an and veg­an options—though fries are always a hit, and in Bel­gium, they seem to be avail­able on every cor­ner. In between and behind this, a vast area opens up; to the right of it lies the mag­i­cal Dub For­est, along with two small­er stages: Yag­ga Yag­ga and Side Dish. For the first time, in front of the main stage—the Gold­en Stage—is the spa­cious Bounce Dance­hall, cov­ered by a tarp tent. Dur­ing set changes on the main stage, select­ed DJs take over there. Seat­ing is scat­tered through­out the grounds—and every­thing is sur­round­ed by green­ery.

The fes­ti­val is rem­i­nis­cent of Rototom—and not just in terms of its his­to­ry. The var­i­ous sound oases and the audi­ence-friend­ly lay­out also show par­al­lels. With its DIY and—in a pos­i­tive sense—make-shift style, Reg­gae Geel has a charm all its own. It comes across as gen­uine and lik­able in a world that strives for per­fec­tion. It’s also strik­ing that many old­er peo­ple attend the fes­ti­val. Younger atten­dees are main­ly found in the Dub For­est and the Dance­hall.

On Thurs­day evening, we take it easy, get­ting into the groove, pop­ping in here and there. We linger a bit longer at Antho­ny B’s set. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen him live or how many of his records I bought with­out even lis­ten­ing to them at the start of his career. He’s 50 (!) now and just as ener­getic as he was on day one. Unbe­liev­able! After­ward, we keep find­ing our­selves drawn back to For­est, which seems tai­lor-made for dub.

On Fri­day, it’s espe­cial­ly the band Abakush that cap­ti­vates the crowd with their sin­cere, unpre­ten­tious roots reg­gae. The voic­es of the three lead singers have lost none of their pow­er and beau­ty. In this col­lec­tive of like-mind­ed musi­cians, found­ed in Brix­ton in 1981, women have been the focal point from the very begin­ning, though men have always been part of the line­up as well.

Queen Omega is on the road a lot this sum­mer. In Geel, I’m see­ing her for the third time. Her vocal and per­for­ma­tive pres­ence is rem­i­nis­cent of great gospel singers like Mahalia Jack­son and Shirley Cae­sar.

Before and after Bee­nie Man, War­rior Sound skill­ful­ly and reli­ably gets the crowd fired up at the Bounce Dance­hall. The eter­nal King of the Dance­hall, Bee­nie Man, is also a pro in his field—no mat­ter who else has been award­ed the title since then. Espe­cial­ly when it comes to per­for­mance, he still eas­i­ly out­shines many an artist. Not to men­tion his cat­a­log of hits.


A spe­cial high­light of the evening is the per­for­mance by Dr. Ali­men­ta­do in the Dub For­est, who enjoyed cult sta­tus espe­cial­ly in the 1970s. This is my first time see­ing the singer/DJ/toaster—known as the “Ital Surgeon”—live. His nephew takes him to the DJ decks in a wheel­chair. A music stand with lyric sheets is set up next to him. I’m unsure what to expect. But it doesn’t take long before the music lit­er­al­ly lifts Dr. Ali­men­ta­do to his feet. He stands at the decks with an ele­gant cane, his voice as pow­er­ful as ever. He repeat­ed­ly inter­rupts his songs with uplift­ing mes­sages full of grat­i­tude. This is also evi­dent when he invites his fam­i­ly to the front and express­es his thanks to each and every one of them. Def­i­nite­ly one of the high­lights at Reg­gae Geel.


On Sat­ur­day, we make it to the fes­ti­val grounds just in time for the British reg­gae singer, song­writer, and pro­duc­er Joe Yorke, who already enchant­ed us with his falset­to vocals at last year’s Roto­tom. He does so again in Geel. The line­up that day is par­tic­u­lar­ly diverse, fea­tur­ing roots reg­gae from the Twin­kle Broth­ers, dance­hall and Afrobeats from Patorank­ing, reg­gae and love songs from Christo­pher Mar­tin, and dance­hall from Ding Dong. The lat­ter delays his per­for­mance until the night­time chill dri­ves us back to the hotel. Despite warm tem­per­a­tures dur­ing the day, it can get quite chilly here at night if you’re not prop­er­ly equipped.

Ear­li­er, in the Dub For­est, two leg­ends from England—DJ, pro­duc­er, and founder of Solar­dub Records David Judah from Lon­don and King Earth­quake from Birmingham—spread spir­i­tu­al ener­gy on a high­er lev­el with their sets.

That ener­gy lingers on the walk back under the full moon, past lush corn­fields. An idyl­lic scene after a won­der­ful fes­ti­val.


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