<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Orange-Stage on vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/orange-stage/</link><description>Recent content in Orange-Stage on vo.rs</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Fri, 05 Jul 2019 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/orange-stage/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Roskilde 2019: The Last Summer Before the Silence</title><link>https://vo.rs/encore/roskilde-2019/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Jul 2019 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://vo.rs/encore/roskilde-2019/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Nobody at Roskilde 2019 knew they were living through the last one for a while, which is exactly why it plays back so strangely now. Held from 29 June to 6 July, it was a completely ordinary edition of an extraordinary festival — a wide, warm, sprawling week in the Zealand fields with a top-heavy bill and the usual hundred-thousand-strong temporary city around it. Then the world shut, the 2020 and 2021 festivals were cancelled to silence, and 2019 became, in retrospect, a kind of farewell nobody attended as a farewell. I have gone back to it in my head more than any other year, precisely because it was so normal.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Roskilde 2015: Orange Feeling in the Rain</title><link>https://vo.rs/encore/roskilde-2015/</link><pubDate>Sat, 04 Jul 2015 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://vo.rs/encore/roskilde-2015/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The 2015 edition is the one where a Beatle closed the Orange Stage and the sky spent a week deciding whether it liked us. Paul McCartney headlined the final Saturday, 4 July, and the whole festival bent itself around that fact for days beforehand — an actual member of the band that half your parents&amp;rsquo; record collections were built on, standing under the orange canopy that his old rivals the Rolling Stones commissioned in the seventies. If you want a single image for how strange and how big Roskilde gets, it is a 72-year-old Liverpudlian playing to a field in Zealand under a Stones-era awning while a hundred thousand Danes lose their minds in the drizzle.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>