It might be the lingering festival drought brought on by the pandemic, it might just be my age (geriatric millennials, put your hands up), but every Big Day Out I ever went to has suddenly blurred into one mega-festival. In my head, I swear I saw New Order and Sleater-Kinney perform on the same day, but Wikipedia says that’s impossible. (An abundance of Smirnoff Ices, the signature festival drink, may also be to blame for my recollection.)
When I listened to the, I found myself going back to the posters to remember which years I went. Although I can remember moments, such as Dave Grohl coming across to the second stage as we waited for Nine Inch Nails or Paul Dempsey questioning why we were watching Something for Kate when Red Hot Chili Peppers were playing, which years these were kind of escapes me. One other thing that I cannot remember is how I actually survived the whole day. I was not drinking alcohol, but I actually cannot remember drinking anything. To be honest, I cannot remember eating anything either.
Memories truly are a strange thing.