Wide Days calls the shots on Scotland's music prospects

Unseasoned in a picturesque destination deemed the “Athens of the North”, I, ashamedly, have never had the pleasure of visiting Edinburgh. Over the course of a three-day programme, drifting between fudge vendors, tartan storefronts, cashmere and Celtic jewellery tourist traps lining The Royal Mile, it becomes clear to me that activities circling the long-running Scottish music conference and showcase festival are less occupied with a sense of scale and grandeur, but rather flavour profiling. Fine-tuning what’s already been accomplished for a newcomer, like myself, experiencing the luxuries of a PRO delegate pass. To my delight, the majority of these offerings are also open to the musicophile public, alongside regular convention passes, promising a meeting of minds not bound by business.

After years spent working promo at international music conferences, festival founder Olaf Furniss’ passion project emerged in opposition to overwhelming showcase models, with dozens of acts no one had heard of, playing to half-empty rooms. Launched in 2010, “I basically set up the kind of event I wanted to attend,” he recalls. “I was noticing that there was no real steer for what you might like and what not; very little contact with the artists.” Unlike the chaos workings of behemoth launchpads like The Great Escape, South by Southwest, and Eurosonic Festival – all important in their own respective rights – Wide Days initially revolved around just seven performing artists. In essence, Furniss’ brainchild works well as a carefully curated point of contact between Scottish talent and international delegates.

Born To Be Wide, an informal networking night and meeting place for music adjacent creatives, served as Furniss' precursor to getting Wide Days off the ground in the mid 2000s. Self-indulgence encouraged, it was centred around the idea of getting industry heads to come and play their favourite records. The only rules were that you weren't allowed to play The Smiths, Morrissey or Joy Division. “Too many people wanted to play those artists, that got boring,” says Wide Days director Michael Lambert.

Establishing a community-first ethos from the jump, Wide Days continues to emulate its early days by refusing to trap its delegates inside the confines of a conference centre. Rather intentionally, the city of Edinburgh is part of the festival’s architecture, gathering musicians, A&Rs, promoters and journalists like myself for an opening, guided coach tour moving through competing histories: the compact Old Town, once nicknamed “Auld Reekie”, and neoclassical New Town with its Gothic charm. PRO delegates get to enjoy sightings of The Royal Observatory, Albert Memorial, and Queen Mary’s Bath House, before inevitably congregating at the pub. Adopting the mentality of “actually showing people a good time,” Lambert champions the fun, experiential elements of Wide Days, which he hopes creates “a much more long-lasting relationship” with both Edinburgh and company.

Those in attendance of Wide Days 2025 beheld a scaled-back programme abandoning the traditional conference format. Creative Scotland – the public body that supports Scotland’s creative and cultural sector – awarded the organisation its largest funding package to date, though it arrived too late in time for the proper staging of a full event. Back on track come the tail end of April 2026, Wide Days took lessons from its past for a tighter ecosystem spread across three intentional grassroots venues. Sneaky Pete’s, the famous 100 capacity Cowgate site, remains to this day one of Scotland’s most important musical rights of passage despite its modest size. Within minutes of one another stands La Belle Angele, 600 cap in the city centre underground. On the same strip also lies The Bongo Club, a community interest company that has been on the Edinburgh dub scene for 25 years.

Stressing the importance of celebrating venues as much as the artists on show, both Furniss and Lambert have spent years developing relationships with like-minded showcase events from across the globe, including most recently Mexico. FOCUS Wales, Waves Vienna, and M for Montréal have partnered with Wide Days for their 2026 guest curated festival takeover that opposes generic models of an incomprehensible size. Not simply an invitation for artists to perform under a funding agreement, a welcome attempt to embrace overseas identities is what sets Wide Days apart from its competitors. “With Sziget, everyone knows the festival,” says Furniss. “But how many people can name you a Hungarian artist?” PRO delegates get to immerse themselves in a broader cultural exchange with on-stage artist introductions while tucking into the cuisines of participating nations (plus pizza, naturally).

But it's not just about the prize package, “It’s all about connection points,” according to Furniss. This year’s Austrian partnership with Waves Vienna hints towards a brighter future, with 20-year-old indie pop poet Oskar Haag practicing a songwriting collaboration with Scotland’s confessional her picture. At Sneaky Pete’s, through soft guitar numbers inspired by Gustav Klimt, Haag masterfully executes, in ocean blue frills, emotionally vulnerable textures to a humble crowd.

With Wide Days receiving an average of 300 artist applications per year, one of their defining initiatives, the Talent Development Programme, works intensively with four carefully selected Scottish artists. Having expanded significantly after receiving PRS Foundation support in 2017, the incubator targets acts already generating attention but require foundational opportunities before wider international breakthrough. The support goes far beyond showcase slots, every one is indeed open to the public. But Talent Development Programme participants, along with Wide Days’ other artist guests, meet delegates in advance through dedicated pitch sessions. I had the privilege of witnessing some of these introductions prior to the coach tour, where artists expressed interest in seeking everything from label partners and booking agents, to sync opportunities and European representation.

In tandem with conference sessions, which artists are required to personally attend, Wide Days offers bespoke mentoring to match artist needs. Anything from vocal coaching, to having someone go through their rights management catalogue. What is most invaluable, perhaps, is the presence of The British Association For Performing Arts Medicine (BAPAM), who are there at the Pleasance Theatre conference courtyard to provide one-to-one health consultations covering hearing, physical strain, and vocal care. It is brilliant, then, that healthcare support exists directly within the event infrastructure instead of artist wellbeing slideshow presentation. Steps are also being taken behind the scenes of Wide Days to prioritise accessibility over optics, with Furniss pushing toward practical implementation for wheelchair users at venues like La Belle Angele.

Wide Days’ programme has already produced notable alumni in C Duncan, Kathryn Joseph, Vistas, and Declan Welsh and The Decadent West. Glasgow duo Honeyblood emerged through the Scotland ecosystem securing a FatCat Records deal, on the spot, at their 2012 showcase. Lambert emphasises the solidarity the programme creates between artists of varying backgrounds, a chance to network under one roof despite overlapping rehearsal and touring schedules. “Even in a tiny country like Scotland, artists can be operating in parallel universes,” he says.

Panels across the Thursday share an underlying concern of grassroots survival. At “Off The Beaten Track”, led by Music Venue Trust’s Scotland Coordinator Stina Tweeddale (also one half of Honeyblood), speakers dismantle the myths surrounding rural touring, that smaller towns are overlooked and require trust, patience and long-term commitment, arguing that audience loyalty is better built in areas outside of major city operations. Conversations around international cultural policy in a panel titled “Harmonious Benefits” highlight the importance of Ireland’s Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) scheme, with reference to Québec's labour protections for self-employed artists and musicians. Closing remarks underline a necessity for Universal Basic Income.

Just days ahead of the Scottish Parliament election, the subject of politics saturates much of this year’s Wide Days discourse. Scottish six-piece San Jose – one of the four Talent Development Programme selects – resist genre labels as “a load of pish” with La Belle Angele’s first riotous showcase, tearing through migration and identity troubles like a young Rage Against the Machine. Barefoot, half-dressed, and no strangers to a stage dive, San Jose’s efforts destroy any semblance maintained of conference etiquette.

Back at Sneaky Pete’s, Celtic Pop artist Mali Hâf stomps across the tiny stage in knee-high socks and a corset decorated with Welsh motifs, she’s quick to point out sheep. Somewhere between political cabaret and early Marina and the Diamonds, her lively set tackles the anxieties of a Reform UK way of life, waving a Welsh flag while declaring hopes that “my country and my language will be saved.”

Much of the evenings are spent with fellow delegates, spilling back into Edinburgh’s sunlit streets before darting across venues again. Friday takes us on another tour, this time tracing Edinburgh’s hidden music history by following the footsteps of David Bowie, Mark E. Smith, Nico, and Scotland’s answer to Elvis, Jackie Dennis. Walking past iconic long-standing independent venue The Jazz Bar and folk mainstay The Royal Oak, we are nourished with tacos, courtesy Paradise Palms, and single malt whisky tasters. Record store pit stops at Umbrella and Beat Generation, be it rushed, follow an Assai Records pop-up from Scottish neo-soul and alt R&B singer-songwriter Becky Sikasa – a finalist in BBC Introducing’s Scottish Act of the Year.

This year’s recipient of the award, Alice Faye, impresses with heartfelt chanson at The Bongo Club. She’s Glasgow’s answer to Ronee Blakley in Nashville, striking a distinctive country flair through expressive vocal stylings and a playful stage persona to match. Hélène Barbier, one of Montréal’s most engaged exports, switches between English and French “atop aggressively anti-complicated avant-pop melodies”.

Marrying Justice with The Chemical Brothers is Roller Disco Death Party, an electronic two-piece from Glasgow making the most out of La Belle Angele’s dance space. Doss couldn’t be more different sonically, but they’re responsible for one of Wide Day’s most feral sets, possibly the pinnacle. The electronic post-punk trio quickly assert themselves as a formidable live act to watch out for, turning the venue into a heaving mosh pit while directly addressing industry invitees from the stage: “One of you delegate cunts, show me the money,” screams vocalist/guitarist Sorley Mackay as the bodies of testosterone teens (and Furniss) crash around the room. By the end, another flag graces the Wide Days stage “SCOTLAND OUT OF BRITAIN, BRITAIN OUT OF IRELAND,” it reads.

Resisting the urge to expand in actual size for the sake of visibility, Wide Days stands strong for its duty of care. “It’s felt exciting and quite a good way to evolve the event, and I think that’s probably going to be the biggest challenge,” Lambert reflects. “What do artists in 2026, 2027, need? How can we serve them? Our plan is to build the festival takeover element a little bit more, but keeping it curated and relative to the rest of the programme is the key thing. It’s a constant balancing act of being ambitious but also not wanting to oversaturate.”

Where many international and homegrown music festivals risk becoming bloated labyrinths, Wide Days makes a compelling case for a smaller and sharper, meaningful nexus, without losing sight of a special Scottish sense of hospitality.