The debut edition of In The Meadows kicked off at The Royal Hospital, Kilmainham on Saturday afternoon. With a stunning line-up co-curated by Lankum, the crowd knew they were in good hands amidst a series of performances from some of the best acts on the Irish scene and further afield.

Arriving at the Main Stage to watch West Kerry concertina player Cormac Begley, I felt as if I was being let in on a secret. The space was vast and full of potential energy. A group of people danced in rings and others sprawled on the grass, watching shapes form in the clouds, as Begley’s spellbinding set transported us all.

Cormac Begley at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

His performance was lightening and enlightening in all the right ways, introducing each new instrument with a brief lesson on its history, from the jaw harp to the concertina itself. He dedicated the final song, ‘Morning Dew', to the people of Palestine, which was met with resounding applause. The uplifting, hopeful finale swept over the Royal Hospital like a showering baptism of sound, a glittering display from one of the finest instrumentalists, let alone concertina masters, of our time.

Leaving Cormac Begley's set, a distant voice called out to me from a towering, carnivalesque tent which housed the West Stage. Mellifluous like a bell at mid-day, I hastened towards the yellow-blue awning, for I knew exactly who compelled me.

It was John Francis Flynn, singing 'The Zoological Gardens', a song I haven’t stopped humming to myself since I first heard his sophomore album Look Over the Wall, See the Sky. Flynn’s billowing baritone filled every molecule of the air as I entered the darkened canopy. His jaw-dropping sean-nós incantation unravelled with distortion and was the perfect foot to start on. Perhaps Flynn summed it up best in an interview with Hot Press last year, telling Jess Murray that 'The Zoological Gardens' "starts off solo singing for the first verse so you think, this is a traditional song, a traditional album. But then it starts getting wonky and you’re like, where is this going? It can kind of go anywhere sonically.”

John Francis Flynn at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

A fitting description for his set! Flynn leapt from the opener's springboard and shifted seamlessly into the dark motorik pulse of ‘Mole in the Ground'. The acclaimed trad musician then proved himself a sonic polymath as he broke into ‘Tralee Gaol', using two tin whistles, taped together, to flesh out the soundscape. His crooning balladry – set to arrangements entwining electric guitar, tin whistle, double bass and drums – was a force to be reckoned with, especially on songs like ‘Shallow Brown’ and ‘Kitty'.

Mercury Rev took to the stage after Flynn. Their barnstorming performance featured favourites from their stunning 1998 opus Deserter’s Songs and 2001's All is Dream. I was pleasantly surprised when they tossed in a mesmeric rendition of Bob Dylan’s ‘Love Sick'. Frontman Jonathan Donahue gave a knowing nod to the festival crowd as he crooned, “I see lovers in the meadows.”

Mercury Rev at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

The band's raucous set was anchored in their stalwart stage presence, offering live-wire, ascending intensity. Uncorking a flood of sounds and sensations, the New York psychedelic outfit flickered beneath the strobe lighting as they finished up with a tremendous rendition of ‘The Dark is Rising'.

Mogwai were next on the main stage, playing a staggering 12-song set. The atmosphere shifted as the Glaswegian sonic blacksmiths pounded post-rock to metal. I lay down on the grass and took in the euphoria as they played such stunners as ‘Yes! I Am a Long Way From Home,’ ‘Ritchie Sacramento’ and ‘Mogwai Fear Satan'.

Mogwai at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

Mixing fuzzy elements of shoegaze with metallic hard rock, their instrumental performances offered alternate routes to those offered by singer-based music, seizing upon sonic impressionism to create a blissful respite of introspective ecstasy. Mogwai packed a punch and soothed like a balm.

In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

I made a beeline for the Middle Stage as Rachael Lavelle launched her set. The singer-songwriter quickly swooped into ‘Travel Size', a full-bodied song I never wanted to end, replete with swirling saxophone and rhapsodic synth. Lavelle is a unique figure of the Dublin music scene, and her tectonic set continually confirmed this. Her bold musical direction and Laurie Anderson-esque affirmations created an alchemy based in sound. Her set transformed the atmosphere into a kind of Technicolor fantasia.

Rachael Lavelle at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

A tight two-piece backing grounded the sky-reaching soundscapes traversed by Lavelle. Ryan Hargadon’s woodwind warblings complemented the singer’s yolk-breaking timbre, while Hannah Hiemstra’s drumming traced the jagged edges of her voice in upper register. ‘My Simple Pleasures', ‘Sleepy Gal’ and ‘Big Dreams’ further revealed the incomparable vibrance of Lavelle’s voice: vaulting, lacquered, gulping down consonants and emitting a crystalline glow.

By half nine, the audience seemed to triple in size, gathered around the main stage like bodies around campfire, when it came time for Lankum’s performance. From the outset, I felt sure it would be a historical gig for the Dublin quartet. Not only did the crowd seem vast, but the set featured a slew of very special guests and marked the first time John ‘Spud’ Murphy joined the band onstage. As sonic helmer and producer of several pioneering Irish musical acts, including Lankum, getting the chance to see him onstage with the four-piece felt exceedingly special.

Lankum at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

The patron saints of doom folk – Radie Peat, Daragh Lynch, Ian Lynch and Cormac MacDiarmada – kicked things off with ‘Go Dig My Grave'. The feelings were raw, laid out in glittering repose, resisting major chord resolutions over the nine-minute dirge. Wearing a halo of birdsong, ‘Clear Away The Morning’ held its hands out in peaceful, soft-spoken grandeur. The sun slipped beneath the horizon and the moon glimmered like the cuticle in the sky as they welcomed Cormac Begley back to the Main Stage for a pummelling rendition of ‘Master Crowley’s'.

Lankum at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

They ended the main set with an intense rendering of ‘The Turn,’ which descended from its optimistic melody into a blackened wall of sound, built on a flush of drone and distortion. The band walked off stage one by one, as the outro grew in potency. During the apocalyptic coda, friends and loved ones held each other, eyes wide as the aural rapture closed in. Then the sound quickly ceased, dropping like curtain-fall. The crowd went briefly quiet before a rip-roaring ovation ensued.

Lankum at In The Meadows. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

The band returned to the stage and were met with even more rapturous applause. Their acclaimed, atom-smashing interpretation of ‘The Wild Rover’ sounded even better live, Cormac MacDiarmada’s hypnotic fiddle tracing ribbons around the harrowing drone. The closer, ‘Bear Creek', was a sunny spell traced in triumphal arches and supernumerary rainbows. Where loved ones earlier held fast to each other, they now held hands and danced with buoyancy and optimism as Lankum closed the festival with undeniable, honest joy.

In The Meadows was unlike any other festival I’d been to. The beaming crowd, coupled with the fortuitous weather, bolstered the experience in spades. Lankum sure knew how to curate a line-up, too. An unforgettable whirlwind of stellar performances, In The Meadows offered an exceptional argument for a single-day festival template, where you wished the day would never end.

• Check out the full gallery from the festival here. Photography by Miguel Ruiz.