Messed!Up
By eight in the morning, the Danish sun had already transformed the tent into an oven. The air was thick with heat, the body was covered in a layer of sweat, and the sleeping bag felt more like a punishment than a place to rest. And on top of that, the feet were hurting from exhaustion of yesterday’s hours of standing at concerts and walking between late-night adventures. Outside, Roskilde Festival was slowly waking: you could hear the neighbours crack open the day’s first warm beer, someone blasted music from a Soundboks, and the smell of sunscreen and piss (yes, it’s the festival smell), mixed in the summer air. The world beyond the tent promised another unforgettable day, but for just a few more minutes, I was too tired to move despite the discomfort.
The day schedule was full of shows and bands I’ve never listened to before. Monday is also a restart, and the only day of the festival week I skip out on beer or any alcohol related drinks to get a fresh restart after the first party days. Instead, beer was replaced with burgers and pizza. I’m still not sure what makes you feel worse. But this was the day for activities!
There’s this common misconception that Roskilde Festival only truly comes alive when the first guitar riff rings out across the fields. Anyone who’s spent more than a day here knows that’s far from the truth, and that there’s tons of stuff to do before any shows start. Long before gigs take over, the festival has already come alive, one where gym classes, foam cannons, fussball tournaments and utterly absurd sporting events are just as capable of creating unforgettable memories as the biggest concert of the weekend.
The morning began in a way that felt almost unnatural for a festival but most important for a man in his fifties with a body that’s stuck behind an office desk most of the year: Voluntarily getting out of the tent before the sun had turned it into a sauna and taking part in one of the morning workout classes. After several nights of little sleep, countless kilometres walked between stages and campsites, and enough drinks to make hydration feel like an afterthought, the prospect of joining a morning workout sounds ambitious at best. Yet dozens of festival-goers gather, some with surprising enthusiasm, but most to shake off the previous night’s drinking excesses. Nobody was trying to set personal bests or impress anyone with flawless technique. It was simply about moving, and stretching tired legs while instructors encouraged everyone through exercises that were equal parts energising and forgiving. Nobody cared what anyone looked like. A very refreshing start on the day (maybe not for the dude who had to throw up – never go for sports when having a hangover).
A quick yogurt breakfast later and with muscles awake and spirits noticeably lifted, we continued on our sports day. Table football, or simply fussball, may not sound like a headline attraction on paper, but at Roskilde almost anything can evolve into a fiercely contested championship. We’ve had some practice over the years and had high hopes when the tournament started, but 0-7 in the first game and 2-11 in the next made us look for encouragement, and three beers later we returned for the last game, which ended in a surprising 6-5 victory. It’s one of those wonderfully simple festival experiences that reminds you how little entertainment (and beer) actually requires.
As temperatures climbed throughout the afternoon, the schedule pointed towards perhaps the easiest decision of the day: Heading into Dream City for the legendary foam party. Monday’s a 4 pm is Foam Day, and even if I probably could be a dad to most ‘kids’ at Foam Day, no one cared. Music echoed through the streets, and enormous foam cannons transformed the area into what looked like an oversized bubble bath. Within seconds, everyone was soaked in thick white foam, including my phone, which stopped working for about two hours before the electrical components had dried up in the sun. Note for next year: Waterproof bag for the phone.
Perhaps that’s the real beauty of events like this. Festivals often celebrate great live performances, but the memories people treasure most frequently come from nonsense shared with complete strangers, which may become your new friends. It’s community-building events like this that get stuck in people’s memories and make them come back the next year, not the amazing live show. People want memories, and the shows are just a backdrop to the activities at the festival. That’s how I interpret the ‘Orange feeling’. After drying off, it was time for the day’s most delightfully ridiculous event: Horsing
At camp at the Settle n Share campsite hosted a horsing competition, proving once again that Roskilde never shies away from embracing the absurd. Inspired by hobby horse competitions, participants sprinted through obstacle courses, jumped improvised barriers, and committed themselves to the performance with remarkable dedication, especially as you had to drink a beer at every second obstacle. Luckily, the Red Cross workers understood the risks at stake and were on standby during the whole competition, but their contribution didn’t stretch any further than a band-aid for someone to cut a finger while opening a can of tuna.
These types of activities are what continue to define Roskilde Festival after more than five decades. While great line-ups naturally draw attention, the heartbeat of the festival is still its community. It’s found in spontaneous banter between campsites, collaborative art projects, volunteer initiatives and the countless small activities that transform a temporary festival ground into something resembling its own functioning society.
By the time the first evening crowds started gathering in front of the main stages, I was already done. The concerts were still to come, but I didn’t really care, and after two shows we left for some drinks at the lake bar – and stayed until 2 am.
The next day was a non-festival day. I simply had to get my professional self together and go to Copenhagen University and host a conference. That’s the difference between me at the festival 30 years ago and today: Growing older comes with responsibilities (and it’s all fine).
