On paper, English festivals are the rankest of the fucking rank. You stand in a thin £1 cagoule, water dribbling down the back of your neck while you clutch a warm can of Red Stripe in one hand, and a limp, soggy roll-up in the other. Every ten minutes, you and your mates take turns squelching across the mud to a bunch of overflowing portaloos so you can stand in human excrement, wait for each other, and ponder why you have no phone reception.
Despite all that though English festivals are, undoubtedly, the best events to exist on planet Earth. And in a weird state of defiance and inversion, the crappier it is, the better time everyone seems to have. At least, that’s what happened at this weekend’s Field Day Festival, where rain fell from the clouds for 24 hours straight while everyone ecstatically flailed their limbs around to the sound of Little Simz, Mabel, Kelela, Novelist, Rejjie Snow, Danny L Harle, and pretty much everyone else you’d want to see live in a giant swamp of hellish fun. If you don’t know what I’m talking about then have a look at the pics below.