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Writer's pictureJoke De Roeck

Post-festival comedown

Ah, the post-festival comedown. Sitting in the garden, hiding behind sunglasses, melting in my chair and feeling raw from the past week. Two festivals to start this summer off right. Being back in Belgium means festival life has shifted from the usual psytrance parties in the woods surrounded by naked hippies on acid, to dusty mainstream dance floors filled with beer and friends.

I love electronic music, but it’s been nice to get down to some old skool funk, soul and hip hop. Couleur Café made all my funky dreams come true with favourites Gregory Porter, Lee Fields and The Expressions, Leon Bridges and my newest finest musical goddess: Tank and The Bangas. Whattawoman! Check her out and dance till you drop.

Rock Werchter made me relive teenage memories with Arctic Monkeys, Jack White and The Kooks. Frolicking around, throwing confetti in people’s faces, singing along until I lost my voice again. Curtis Harding and Durand Jones and The Indications got me feeling groovy and light on my feet, but my ultimate prom king who got me dancing till I was swimming in sweat and didn’t even care to stop, was the one and only Anderson .Paak and The Free Nationals.

Ooh baby I hardly knew what to do with myself! Or even better: what my body was doing to me. Arms and legs going in opposite directions, hair everywhere, mascara everywhere. Heart pumping at a scary pace, cheeks red with excitement. After the show I stood in awe of what had just happened.

Do you know that feeling when you have just seen an amazing concert, you realise life makes perfect sense. All life’s questions answered in the span of one epic performance. Only one question was left burning my brain: why on earth is that man not the father of my children (yet)?

Yes lawd!

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