It's over for another year, then. We slip back into "normal" life (this really isn't normal) and sit and wonder why every weekend can't be like Indietracks, where you sit with your friends, drinking, and go off to watch another band that'll make your jaw drop open once every three or four songs.
We had another magical year; and I think the Saturday in particular was the best day I've ever had at Indietracks, for a variety of reasons, not least being able to make it back to the hotel to see the exciting bit of What Lies Beneath with Harrison Ford. I'm kidding; Fever Dream were the highlight for me, and I really see no reason at all why they shouldn't be huge. I was watching them with Leon from The Hobbes Fanclub (oh, how I namedrop!), and he mentioned something about wishing he was the same age as the band so that he could throw himself around like that when he was playing with his band. I wish I was the same age as Fever Dream so that I could throw myself around whilst listening to them. Might try it next time I've got the house to myself...
Other great things were: The Lovely Eggs, Fear of Men, Milky Wimpshake, Big Wave, Jerv for looking after that cymbal stand, the bar staff asking where everyone had come from, the staff at Carnival of Food, Leon's adult poncho, Alpaca Sports, Haiku Salut, Tunabunny, Cars Can Be Blue, the very nice staff at Sainsbury's caff, seeing very peaky indiepop comrades in Sainsbury's caff each morning, the fella who danced his way to the front during Finnmark, and generally being so deliriously happy (pissed) that by 8pm on Saturday night I didn't care that it was chucking it down, because all I could see was familiar, happy smiling faces.
Really sad I missed The Fireworks, but I'll see them in six weeks time, so that's something to look forward to.
In truth, Indietracks is our holiday each year; the one time where we can be truly selfish and do what we want for three days. To have that and be surrounded by so many wonderful friends and brilliant bands makes it the best place on earth once a year. Without wanting to get completely mushy, these really are days I'll remember for the rest of my life. Well, perhaps the bits before about 7pm, anyway.
That last train journey back from Swanick to Butterley is where it all really kicks in, and you start to think why life outside of this tiny bubble we've created for ourselves bothers existing, with its cruelty and nastiness and arrogance. Sure, that exists in tiny parts indiepop too for sure, but let's not talk about that.
We got home, we slumped, but we couldn't sleep because our hearts were at Swanwick Junction, and they might always be.
Huge thanks to everyone involved in any way. The last six years and ten Indietracks events have been the best times of my life. Whatever happens next, we'll always have that.