Stag and Dagger was, to be blunt, pretty staggering. Too many venues stretched over too great a distance. Too few hours for too many good bands. Before we left, I had made a color-coordinated list of which groups I wanted to see, at what time and at which club. I even wrote out a brief description for each one so that I would remember what they sounded like. For instance: Class Actress—80s SYNTHS, FEMALE VOCALS, BROOKLYN. Or, Friendship—NOISE ROCK & RIFFS. There were a lot of obscure, promising, up-and-coming bands from around London and the rest of the world, and I was excited to see them at such close proximity before many of them undoubtedly skyrocketed in popularity and exploded all over the blogosphere.

But in the end, I only made it to three shows on my list of seventeen. I staggered around (pun intended) and let the night pass in a blur of sound, watching it all as if through a froth of technicolor scarves. While I really enjoyed the bands I did manage to see (electro duo Dam Mantle, indie group Clock Opera, and the Ratatat/Strokes hybrid Is Tropical), I couldn’t help feeling a little bit bummed that I missed so much. I guess that’s why so many festivals span an entire weekend, and people crowd like ants into a designated patch of meadow or park, and everyone is sweaty and dirty and deliriously happy.

It’s my goal to go to Glastonbury someday. I suppose I will have to save my super list-making skills until then.