The Roskilde Festival 2000, held from June 29 to July 2, was one of the largest music festivals in Europe at the time, but it will forever be marked by tragedy. On June 30, 2000, during Pearl Jam’s performance on the Orange Stage, a crowd surge led to the deaths of nine people and the injury of 26 others. This event cast a shadow over the festival, also leading to significant changes in crowd management and safety procedures at future events.
Despite this tragedy, the lineup was impressive, featuring artists like Nine Inch Nails, Roni Size, LOK, Iron Maiden, Underworld, Sahara Hotnights, Funkstörung, Petter, Looptroop, Timbuktu, Thåström, and Saint Etienne. Other acts included Lou Reed, Oasis, Iron Maiden, Muse, The Flaming Lips, and Cat Power.
Electronic music was also well represented, with artists like Laurent Garnier, Amon Tobin, DJ Tiësto, Femi Kuti, Moloko, Kid Koala, Everything But the Girl, Groove Armada, and Groove Rós—giving the festival a truly eclectic lineup.
This time, the festival attracted over 100,000 attendees, and it remains one of the most memorable in Roskilde’s history due to the combination of eclectic music and the tragedy.
From June 25 to July 2, 2000, Müller, Polbratt, Widerberg, Jeppson, and I went to this infamous festival in Denmark. At the time, we had been experimenting with making our own t-shirts, designing illustrations, and creating our own screens to print them the old-fashioned way. Müller was, of course, very skilled at this. We chose one of my war machine tank illustrations and printed the word “SCRUFF” on it.
We found a dangerous, old yellow bus project that would take us from Kungsholmen all the way to Denmark, across the Øresund Bridge. The bus had a strong hippie vibe and didn’t look very reliable. I remember Jeppson being quite nervous about the trip, as the bus—probably more than 25 years old—was far from fresh and new, and Jeppson had hypochondria.
Despite its condition, the journey was great, and we met plenty of inspiring people along the way.
Upon arriving at Roskilde, we set up our tent in a muddy field surrounding the vast festival area. It was much larger than Hultsfred, with a wild, anarchic atmosphere. People from all over Europe, and even other continents, were there. The environment was chaotic—dirty, muddy, and overwhelming. The air reeked of wet earth and sweat, with mud splashing under every step—chaos was seeping through the ground.
At night, I wore my AEM KEI sweater and G-Star special edition jeans. I distinctly remember Widerberg finding a pair of the exact same jeans lying outside our tent, so now we somehow had two of them.
There were people everywhere selling drugs, and it wasn’t exactly a healthy scene. I recall one time when a couple of wild guys approached me with a large jar, trying to sell me some humongous joints. I didn’t have any cash, but they said, “You can have them all anyway.”
I took my find back to the tent and showed it to my friends, who were all thrilled. We shared a short session inside the tent—it was only my second or third time smoking cannabis, and the experience turned out to be both surreal and quirky.
I remember having a strong realization while we were sitting there, getting stoned. I exclaimed, “Where are all the girls? What the hell? We can’t just sit here, five guys smoking weed, with no girls. Come on, what are we doing? You chicken shits.” Feeling restless and confident, though a bit confused, I quickly ran out of the tent and wandered around the area for a while. I eventually found a couple of cute girls who said they would enjoy coming back to the tent with me, but somehow, we lost track of each other.
Another day, I met a guy wearing a little makeup and some black designer clothing. He was blond and told me he was heavily into dancing and psychedelics—it was his life, and he became something larger through that creative expression.
We sat and talked for about an hour, and I found his intellect subtle, attractive, and focused, with his clear blue eyes adding to the hypnotizing effect of the stories he told. I wondered if I would ever meet him again or if I could just savor the memory of our conversation, which seemed, in a way, timeless to me.
I also met that cool Asian girl who had previously worked at Lightyears. We hooked up and hung out for a bit at the Roni Size stage. But, to me, one of the best performances was definitely Kent, who were at their peak at that time.
The festival was long and exhausting, and near the end, when Pearl Jam performed, and—tragically, the nine people died in the audience during their set—everything became even more chaotic and confusing. The Swedish media went into panic. I heard afterward how my parents were trying to reach me but couldn’t get through, which naturally made them worry that something had happened to me.
Soon after this, we started heading back—one big experience richer.
On the bus home to Stockholm, I met a new girl who was very cute but seemed to be hiding herself, listening to Deep Purple with a big beanie on her head and her dirty hair tucked underneath it. I felt for her, but I sensed she had her own thing going on—being that hard-to-reach emo type. Regardless, we talked about music, and I made her laugh.
Our trip was chaotic, tragic, fun, charming, dirty, animalistic, beautiful, and pure. It was our life, all packed into one week of chaos.
