This Festival Kills Fascists

HutzSzigetThe men sat in the front row of EasyJet flight 5443 from Gatwick to Budapest were wearing sunglasses and sheepish expressions. A fellow passenger caught their eye. “Are you guys in a band?” she smiled. “Yeah,” sighed Maxim Reality as he glanced across at Liam Howlett and Keith Flint, a man who doesn’t find it easy to look inconspicuous. “We’re The Prodigy.”

A look of recognition flickered across her face and the band shrugged, just a little self-consciously. Like the fine men and women of the British Music Press Corps scattered about the plane behind them, they were on their way to Sziget, a weeklong Hungarian festival which bursts into life every August on an island in the Danube nestled between the once distinct cities of Buda and Pest.

Continue reading at The Quietus.

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