Drowning at Roskilde Clubbing Magazines festival reporter went to Denmark’s biggest festival again. Here’s his wet retrospect.   Thursday Water, water water. If I’d been a fish in a pond I wouldn’t complain. However, I’m not. I’m a music freak entering my Mecca – The Roskilde Festival. I come here every year, and I love every minute of it. Usually. But my god - when I get to my tent on that Thursday the fourth of July 2007 I seriously consider going home to the flat, renting ten movies on the way and staying indoor for the weekend. Never have I seen so much rain. The camp site is a mud bath, and people’s tents are washed away – some under two feet of water. But the Roskilde crowd is a tough one, so the monsoon rain that would have been Bangladesh worthy can’t stop about 40.000 people from gathering around Roskilde’s main stage, Orange for the big opening gig – Danish hard rockers Volbeat. And they don’t disappoint. A great gig that’s only spoiled a bit because my brand new supposedly water resistant rain jacket and trousers turn out to be resistant to nothing at all. After Volbeat I hide in the media area for an hour to dry up a bit before The Killers go on. It’s hopeless. There’s no way I’m getting dry today, and after the concert I go against my original plan and admit to myself that I am indeed not 19 anymore. A friend and I who has the same revelation walk/swim away from the festival and towards the station to the lovely, warm and dry train that’s going to take me home. Home to my dry bed.
Roskilde under water. These two chaps decided to get the most of it and went for a bit of a sail around.		On the way to put up the tent Thursday at Roskilde. Need a life vest?
People got put up in the music tents because a lot of camps looked like this. You could wake up drowned here!		The sun peaks out and blesses Orange Stage with a few minutes of dryness on an otherwise very wet festival.
Friday The next morning I wake up with an odd feeling. The feeling of missing something. I have to get back to the festival. When I do it’s still a bloody ocean, but the worst is over, the clever weathermen of Denmark tells us. But the previous night we’ve been blessed with more rain in the one night than what’s ever come down in a whole festival. You can tell. People are actually sailing on inflatable mattresses and some have had to sleep in the music tents because their tents have been flooded. It doesn’t stop people from having fun, and that’s the beauty of Roskilde. Like the weeds in your garden or the belief in a better world, Roskilde can’t be killed. Friday night have one big goal for me. Producer, remixer and now leader of his own live band – Danish sensation Trentemøller – is playing live with the full band for the first time. He doesn’t disappoint. The first half of the concert is really good, and the rest I miss. Explanation – a drunken friend has to be helped to the tent. He owes me. Big. Friday night finishes off in the new Astoria tent where I’m positively surprised. I’m very sceptical towards the festivals’ decision to have replaced the stage for electronic music – Metropol – with a grime scene – an art of British hip hop that has very little audience in Denmark. But the Astoria takes over nicely. Unfortunately it doesn’t play electronic music all the time as this has been spread out to various stages, but Astoria does, it’s done well. The tent is completely closed and provides a great clubby feeling with funky podiums, great décor, a proper dance floor and cool bars. Thumbs up to the deco crew on their work.
The Astoria tent would get this years price for best deco if we were giving out any.		Rave fashion item number one when you’re at Roskilde: The Wellie.
Saturday Saturday night I get to one of my most anticipated highlights. I enter the giant 20.000 people Arena Tent just as the trance master Tiesto spins the first record. And from the first second the bass is mind- numbingly loud and deep, and when we get to the area just before the stage, it feels like my ears are gonna explode. They don’t, but the tent does. This is probably one of the biggest raves in Denmark ever. I only think Underworld at Roskilde in 99 beats it. Fantastic. Half way through the set Tiesto changes from trancy to techy records, and when he turns back into the trance and dips into the classics at the end of the show the crowd goes mad. It should, because he pleases us with great tunes like Addagio for Strings and a mad trance remix of Prodigy’s Smack My Bitch Up. If the tent roof hadn’t been properly fastened, it would have flown off. When Tiesto finally leaves the stage – after an excellent four hour set, I’m exhausted. The heat and humidity of the tent was mad, and I try not to think about the way I must smell after a day in the rain and a night of dancing. On the way back to our camp we stumble across an improvised rave. I count more than twenty people dancing outside a big tent from where deep bass is banging. Someone obviously dished out more than usual when he went to the boom blaster shop. When I finally get back to my tent it’s half past six in the morning, and I’m seriously beginning to doubt I’ll make it to the band I want to see at noon.
Trance master Tiesto enters the stage.		And gets this reaction all around the tent.
Sunday I was right – no wake up punk for me, and I don’t get off my inflatable bed before one. My head hurts – along with the rest of my body. I’m looking forward getting into my own, real bed tonight. But first I have a great day ahead of me. Laurent Garnier with band playing and the always entertaining Basement Jaxx is closing Orange Stage in front of probably +30000 people. Well, plans are there to be changed and a useless airline company decides to change mine.   I have an interview with the French master Laurent Garnier, and I go to the stage where he’s playing later on. I can’t get a hold of the manager, so I wait around in front of the tent. Some madballs named Cyclon with long black hair and about two million guitar amps are tearing up the stage and my ears. Never have I heard something so loud and noisy. Deaththrashmonstercoremetal my hung over brain decides to name the genre. The lead singer surely won’t die of an ulcer caused by locking up his anger. It’s all out there. I walk away from the stage to save my eardrums from further agony and then I get a call from Laurent Garniers label. He’s delayed. A lot in fact. He won’t be able to make the interview as he’ll be at the festival just minutes before he’s on. That sucks, but what’s even worse is the fact that he won’t be playing with his band, because they’re stuck in Paris. But he’s brought a bag of records and when he finally gets there he’s more than ready to entertain us for a couple of hours. He grabs the mic: “I’m really really sorry about this, but my band isn’t coming. One word of advise for you all. Don’t ever fly with Sterling, coz they’re shit. Now let’s play some tuuuuunes,” he shouts and starts spinning. Unfortunately not in front of the biggest of crowds because apparently rumour around the festival has had it that he was cancelling completely. Well, the ones that are here are enjoying it, so too bad for the rest. “Next year I’ll come back with the full band. I promise,” he shouts before leaving. Cheers for that. We’ll be right there again.
Dark and funky music from Laurent Garnier		Roskilde Station, Monday morning at 2 am. See you next year.
I head off to Basement Jaxx and it’s a one and a half hour of pure party. Fantastic. Then I’ve had it. I’m supposed to go and see French house newcomers Justice, but they’re two hours away and my bed isn’t. I’m done. My feet look like fingers do after you’ve done dishes for four hours. Enough with the rain. Enough with the cold. It’s bed time. Proper bed. But I’ll be back next year. I’m already looking forward to it. I just hope mother nature will bless us and keep the rain away from those fields west of Copenhagen.
Words and pictures by Tom Carstensen
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