It’s been a bit quiet round here for a few reasons. First, three weeks ago I spent a couple of days losing my mind surrounded by my extended family at a Golden Wedding celebration in East Lothian. Then, the week after, I spent almost a whole week losing my mind surrounded by an even more extended family at my third Waking Life festival near Crato. Then I moved to Berlin for the summer and spent this past weekend losing my mind surrounded by bananas at Panoramabar. Mercifully for all of you I’m only going to tell you about the second of these events.

Imagine you’re on your fifth day of a music festival, Sunday evening, your legs tired, digestion rigorously tested (and, for the most part, up to the task), mind not yet vacant but certainly getting there, a variety of substances embedded under your fingernails that probably won’t be coming out until you get home tomorrow. Since proceedings got underway on Wednesday night you’ve been treated to some of the most inspiring music and personal interactions you can remember at a festival, in fact the sheer abundance of both these things is almost too much to bear, so rich has the experience been up to this point. Your sleep total over the preceding two nights amounts to no more than six hours, the second portion of which wasn’t really a night since it took place at 1pm earlier this afternoon, when, nodding off on the Outro Lado decking while drinking a calimocho and listening to Jan Jelinek make some noises, you decided it might finally be time to hit the tipi.