ON THIS NIGHT, the eve of Electric Picnic, we are extending a hand to all those who can’t schlep down to Stradbally, for one reason or another.
All week you’ve had to endure constant tweets, Facebook posts, articles (soz) and no one seems to care how YOU feel about it all.
This weekend is going to be tough for all of us not attending Electric Picnic, but we’ll get through it. Together.
Disbelief
What you say: “I can’t believe it sold out!”
What you mean: “I hemmed and hawed about getting a ticket for months and now I’m annoyed I didn’t snap one up while I had the chance. H8 lyf.”
Ill-conceived smugness
Eh, you’ll feel much better about not going when it’s pelting rain and you’re snuggled up under your duvet. Won’t you? WON’T YOU?!
Meanwhile in Stradbally, all the attendees adopt the mantra: ‘Few cans, be grand.’
Bargaining
“The line up is terrible this year, anyway,” you crow.
Deep inside, you know you’d only be delighted to bop around to Outkast and Chic.
Outright lies
“It’s so much more mainstream these days.”
Yeah, Electric Picnic hasn’t been good since Arcade Fire rocked that tent in 2005. (You weren’t actually there, but this is what you’ve heard.)
Pure desperation
Despite everything you’ve said before, you pretty much have to get there. Somehow, some way.
You’ve shared countless Facebook competitions, tweeted all sorts of people on the #ticketfairy hashtag, and almost got into a precarious entanglement with a tout.
No joy.
Even more bargaining
It’s going to be on the telly anyway!
Because that’s the same thing, yeah.
Admittance of jealousy
There’s nothing left for it. You’ll have to just come out and say it.
Follow the brave souls that went before you.
Hope
Wipe those tears. There’s always next year.
WHO’S EXCITED FOR #EP2015?! Anyone?
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