New Socks: check. Easy peelers: check. Loyle Carner Fresh Merch: check. These are all the makings of a great day in Eastville Park. With the weather not initially on our side, no one could forecast the events that were to happen that day. Not least a girl weeping with ecstatic joy as Andy C drops ‘What Bass’ at circa 10.30pm.
We arrived at the park and slid straight into the ‘Roller Disco’. And did we roll? Disco pumping through the Funktion 1s, hands in the air, we don’t care. Glitter. Vibes. A couple of (hundred) £5 cans. Whirling carousel flinging revellers in wide arcs of expectant energy.
Into the steam and hot wet heat. House every weekend. Shanti Celeste provided the backdrop for the next hour at the Paradiso Stage (hosted by the notorious Percolate). Rhythmic, outrageous and laced with funk. A celestial journey to the outer rim of love. She saved the day before it had even got started, leaving the night to swirl into more pumping chaos.
Seamless transition into the next act: Ben UFO. Percussive, tumbling, unnecessarily loud. The man needs no introduction. The man is unreviewable. This was something you had to hear to believe. I ate a really nice peach and dribbled a bit.
Lost and found love in the Lost Gardens stage with Artwork and Axel Bowman. They did the unthinkable and decided to play back to back to back to back for a bit, launching and swerving hypnotic house serving all out stamping beats into a crowd that mainly consisted of topless men. They were having a good time. I was having a good time. I ate a second peach.
With the summer sun gently melting into the horizon, it was almost time for me to chain myself to the RUN stage, but first up Paradiso for a bit of Joy O.
Oh wait, Joy Orbison clashes with Andy C * sprints frantically to the main stage *
Have you ever been hit in the throat with sledgehammer and loved it? It was a rampage of visceral drums and sloppy bass. It was perfect. The final destination of three years in this tiny Bristol world. I had witnessed enough roller-skating injuries to prepare me for the violent onslaught that was about to hit the main stage. It was faux hammer. As I leant down to pick up my baker boy hat I got kneed in the face by my housemate having an aggressively good time. What a day. What a time to be alive. What a time to be a graduand. Call me an Uber Exec right now I can’t walk anymore.
Cover Photography: Bristol Picture