“Welcome! Welcome back home!”
What a heartwarming feeling to be greeted in such way from the Media Center staff at Roskilde Festival! And yes, it really feels like getting back home, in the big red barn that hosts the press area, reuniting with the temporary family that year by year consolidates around rituals such as picking up the concert stickers, getting in line hours in advance for the distribution of the leftover passes for the main stages or simply sharing meals and pictures.
The festival this year brings three improvements\changes to what we were used to: first and foremost, a new bigger, better (“harder, faster, stronger”) Orange Stage that looks like the old one and preserves the visual identity of the festival but that definitely gives the good-luck-ducky a way better view of the grounds; second and third, two “new” stages, Lagune that replaces Apollo and Fauna, that merges Gaia and Avalon in the old Avalon location – this means one less stage to juggle in my schedule.
With these premises, a festival plan that takes no prisoners and loaded with cameras like never before, I begin my quest to tick off as many bucket list acts as possible and enjoy as much music as I can.
Wednesday, Day 1.
Weather conditions: pleasant, warm enough to wear shorts during the day.
Bucket list artist of the day: The Cure.
I begin my day with Iceage, beloved Danish band that makes me wonder why I’ve never seen them before: Elias Rønnenfelt, the frontman, is an absolute enthusiastic presence on stage and if you’re looking for some homegrown punk rock, this is the band to experience.
I could write about the (somehow not so memorable) performances of Tuvaband, Wolf Alice and Jade, but let’s be honest: Wednesday, for me, was all and only about The Cure.
I cannot deny I was very excited to the idea of finally being able to see from up close one of the icons of modern music, smudged eye shadow, lipstick and all, but also being able to catch the sparkle in the eyes, the joy and pride of performing in front of thousands of adoring people.
We have a privilege, as photographers, that sometimes we forget or give it for granted: we are so close to the artists that sometimes we can almost feel their emotions on stage, especially the more introverted ones, is that a look in their eyes or the twitch of their hands. When Robert Smith took the stage and, as per his ritual, walked its width to soak in the love of the crowd, to me the most interesting things to look were his hands: they were expressing gratification and gratitude but at the same time the slight discomfort of an introvert to be in the spotlight. Confidence took over once he went behind the microphone stand and Plainsong started: genuine happiness was on his face, pure enjoyment of the moment and the hugs to his guitar were not to hide behind it but a gesture of real affection to the music.
One could now remark that going and see The Cure in 2026 feels like nostalgia, that they’re far from their prime days, but that couldn’t be more wrong: with a time slot worth of a headline concert (they played almost two and a half hours), flawless vocals and precise execution, they keep proving night after night that retirement is not meant to be yet.
Thursday, Day 2.
Weather conditions: rainy, but manageable.
Bucket list artist of the day: Gorillaz.
Festivals are something that either you love or you despise: where some see an opportunity to discover new music, others see the limited time slots for their favorite bands that often don’t perform, for a long serie of mostly technical reasons, in the same way as if it was their own date.
I think I belong to the first group of people, moderately, but I like the opportunity of seeing bands I would probably never choose to go to one of their concert otherwise. My strategy to festivals is therefore to pinpoint the main acts I really don’t want to miss and fill the gaps with whatever seems interesting even if I have no idea who I’m going to see.
This is what happened during this Roskilde Festival, on Thursday more than ever: with a list of potentially 13 acts to see, I ended up attending 8 of them, exploring a wide spectrum of genres and attitudes: from the intimate folk of Dean Johnson or the ethereal atmospheres of Širom to the plain but enjoyable rock of the Australian duo Royel Otis, the biggest gap was between Ethel Cain, modern embodiment of Mother Nature ft. Maria from The Sound of Music, and the brutal, merciless energy of Truck Violence. Although the bucolic stage setting of Ethel Cain was something, I’m very glad I cleaned my ears of all the sugar from her voice with the stripped down hardcore of the Canadian band.
With the sky clear of the rainy clouds, Gorillaz invaded the Orange Stage with their tribe of musicians, back singers and cartoon characters. The same wind that allowed the crowd to experience this beautiful act without the inconvenience of the rain, also carried the tunes of Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats who were performing on the Lagune stage: while it is usually not an issue having simultaneous concerts, the physics of acoustics, natural phenomena and a very sensitive Damon Albarn collided into what became a diplomatic incident that brought an early end to the concert on the smaller stage. A stain that somehow tarnished Damon’s image of the nice guy turning him into the insufferable diva of the day.
Last but not least in this gorgeous and variegated day, Lykke Li: in a time slot that divided the festival crowd, it was a no brainer for me to go and experience the Swedish singer over the hyper-hyped Kneecap. With a stage setup like a building site, her moves, interpretation of the songs and hypnotic presence were simply sublime.
Friday, Day 3.
Weather conditions: windy and cold. Very, very cold.
Bucket list artist of the day: David Byrne.
What’s better to warm yourself up than some irresistible Country music? Two Country acts!
The day started with the gentle a sunny music of Cat Clyde and then continued with the Americana star Sierra Ferrell, whose Country-Punk look was an interesting twist on the honky tonk aesthetics of her supporting band. In between the two acts, though, the very amusing intermission of eclectic British duo Getdown Services. They’re the affirmative answer to the question “Can musicians still be fun on stage?”.
But let’s get to the main course of the day, the living legend David Byrne. Knowing that photographers were not allowed in the pit, in the audience pit or in the corridor behind it, loaded with cameras and a lot of patience I respectfully conquered a central piece of the rail for me and a fellow photographer in the area where we were cleared and allowed to shoot. The best position to shoot, promising setlist with those songs that made history such as This Must Be the Place or Psycho Killer and two hours of wait ahead that turned out to be more an anthropologic investigation on the crowd behavior at concerts. There were chats with strangers, obsessive cleaning on the stage, a beer shared with a friend, His Majesty King Frederik X a few steps away ready to enjoy the concert when finally lights dimmed and it was show time. Lights were just perfect and although we were a bit crammed, we were enjoying the picture opportunities until… until a fierce tour manager got to us barking that we weren’t allowed to take pictures, inquiring if we signed the contract (never!) and forced us to leave our spot after one song. And that was me experiencing David Byrne. A bummer? 100%, although, I’ve to say, I totally loved the little I saw and it should have been a magnificent show.
Saturday, Day 4.
Weather conditions: just perfect.
Bucket list artist of the day: none really.
It’s the last day of this Roskilde Festival and the famous festival blues is creeping in the solid coating of orange feeling more and more as the acts of the day go by.
Today, it’s a day of queens: from Sara Parkman, in her doilies corset wielding a violin to the overwhelming flamboyant energy of Liniker, who transformed Arena in a huge party in the best Brazilian tradition. Although they were not the Orange Stage headliners, they definitely were my personal favorite of the day along the visually compelling performance of Audrey Nuna.
On the big stage, instead, we were served two shiny and polished Pop queens. In the late afternoon, a bright example of revenge concert performed by Lily Allen, comprehensive of strip tease, lingerie and lascivious poses on the day beds adorning the stage. While the content of her latest album West End Girl was performed in its entirety depicting the the brutal end of her marriage, the feeling was, to a certain degree, of emotional distance and detachment: the most recurring question was, in fact, “is she singing for the crowd of for herself?”.
The sky is darkening, bags starts to get packed and the press room is emptying little by little. One more act, one more visit to the Orange Stage before taking the road back home: Zara Larsson, the Swedish fairy Pop queen who performs in what looks like a pop-up book. Bright, cheesy, the crowd at her feet, she was the perfect lighthearted concert to end my fifth year at this festival.
It’s now time for goodbyes, hugs and the promise to see each other next year.
“Was it a good festival this year?” “Absolutely delightful!”
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