At Roskilde 2026, the past and present collide. Of the four acts headlining the Danish festival, two (The Cure and Gorillaz) are established, male-led bands, here to rattle through hits that are well-known and time-worn; the others (K-pop star Jennie and Sweden’s Zara Larsson) are young women in the upswing of their pop careers. The crowd don’t play favourites. Some 130,000 people make their way to the annual event — mostly Scandinavians, genial and unpushy, an uncanny percentage of whom look like they’re related to Erling Haaland, which is to say, blonde-haired and box-threat tall.

Comparisons to Glastonbury are ubiquitous when it comes to this eclectic, not-for-profit festival. This year, the most Worthy Farm-esque quality may well be the mud: wet, windy weather besieges the first few days, relenting at the week’s end with whiplash summer heat. Unlike this year’s Primavera Sound, where weather conditions brought music to a temporary standstill, Roskilde is built to endure the fickle climate: this is a commendably well-organised event, staffed largely by young volunteers. The toilets, for what it’s worth, are the snazziest I’ve seen at a music festival, and dotted generously around the site (a fact that only makes more baffling the number of Danes, men and women alike, who opt to relieve themselves against walls... I’m told it’s some kind of urinary tradition here).

Roskilde comes midway through a busy festival season for The Cure, who’ve been taking their gothy new wave act around Europe. As a result, there’s little novelty about this setlist — but there’s no faulting the execution. What’s most impressive about frontman Robert Smith, now 67, is how well his voice has endured: in both pitch and rhythmic control, he is as sharp as ever. There’s even more power in the voice of American doom-folk sensation Ethel Cain, who wails her way sonorously through tracks like “American Teenager” and “House in Nebraska” under the tented Arena stage.

Gorillaz are a natural fit for a headline slot, and their electro-rock sound seems somehow both tight and expansive on Thursday night. Exacerbated by the wind, a small amount of sound is heard bleeding through from another stage. “Despite the fact that all we can hear is the other band playing… we’re having a lovely time,” jokes Damon Albarn, a little snippily. Later, it seems this isn’t a joke at all: the “other band” (Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats) put out a statement criticising Albarn, having been forced to end their set 30 minutes early. They allege that he threw a “hissy fit”, and is “soft as baby s***”. Soft maybe, but still an enjoyable listen — even if most of the peaks still come from decades-old hits like “Feel Good, Inc” and “On Melancholy Hill”.

In this regard, Kneecap, performing to a rammed Arena stage later that night, feel like a stark counterpoint. The politically outspoken Irish rap trio bulldoze their way through a set that’s vastly different from the one they toured a year ago, pulling mainly from their new album Fenian. It’s raucous and slick, ending in a euphoric mosh.

As the week progresses on the main Orange stage, the biggest acts increasingly take on an air of precision engineering. Addison Rae, Jennie, and Larsson are kindred spirits in their commitment to punchy choreography and pop gloss; all go down well with the festival’s younger attendees. The biggest crowd of the weekend belongs to the Danish new wave band TV-2, an act with scant name recognition in the UK, but who are cheered and sung-along-to at Roskilde like they’re Oasis.

Amid this happy fusion of old and young, one act may well bridge the divide: David Byrne. Rolling through immortal hits from his time in Talking Heads (“And She Was”; “Once in a Lifetime”) and his solo work (“Like Humans Do”), Byrne, now a rizzed-up septuagenarian, knows exactly how much spotlight to cede. He employs a dynamic backing band, all of whom dance athletically around the stage; the songs feel fresh and current. Same as it ever was.