Festivals Are Time Machines: Lucy Dacus and Lord Huron at Ottawa Bluesfest 

July 16th, 2026, at the Ottawa Bluesfest. Words & photos by Edie Olender

I had planned to leave early. We are always trying to make ends meet and are stretched thin between this thing and another. The lab, the ants, the experiments. The photos, the clients, the editing. I felt in over my head. So I had planned to leave early that night. 

The person that I love was at the show, though. They were there with their dad, and I picked out their curly hair easily in the crowd. I finished shooting the opener, Koko Love, whose groovy tunes had the crowd dancing. I make my way through the masses and see my boy light up when we lock eyes. I want to hold onto this moment, because it’s enough right now that we are young and healthy and alive together. That’s the beauty of a music festival; it feels like it exists outside of time. My grandparents at the Festival of Friends. My parents at Lollapalooza early ‘90s. Nicholas and I at Bluesfest 2026. Everything points towards this very moment, which is all-encompassing. It reminds me of my favourite poem, Burnt Norton, by T. S. Elliot:

Time present and time past

Are both perhaps present in time future,

And time future contained in time past.

If all time is eternally present

All time is unredeemable.

Lucy Dacus

Standing in the Lebreton Flats with Nicholas wrapping their arms around me, it feels like this is all there has ever been. My master’s thesis disappears into the ripples of bright sunlight. The hard drive of unedited photos melts away. 

I am transported through time again when Royel Otis takes the stage, transported back to a year ago when my best friend and I saw them play at The History in Toronto. During that show, vocalist Otis Pavlovic seemed to be trying to shrink away into his sweater, and Royel Maddell kept his face hidden under his hair. This time, however, Pavlovic moves to the beat with ease and comfort while Maddell rocks out to the riffs. As they play “I wanna Dance with You,” I melt again into Nicholas’ arms, and we sway in time with the beat. This is all I want right now: to dance with them. To be here in the moment. 

When Lucy Dacus comes on, I am pulled away to the photo pit. I miss swaying with Nicholas, but I am wrapped in the warmth of Dacus’ fans who are pouring tears as they sing along to her lyrics. I know that everyone here feels it, feels how time is unredeemable. My thoughts drift to my friend’s dad who was just diagnosed with pancreatic cancer this past week. I remember when my grandmother was diagnosed almost a decade ago, and my dad told me Steve Jobs died from the same cancer. A cancer that no amount of money can save you from. All time is unredeemable, so I must live it now and treasure the people I am surrounded by. 

Lord Huron

The night comes to a close as Lord Huron takes the stage. I once again make my way through the crowd and find my curly-haired boy waiting for me. Lord Huron’s last song before the encore is “The Night We Met,” and I fell through the oceans of time to a house party three years ago during which I picked out this curly-haired boy in the crowd. I am overwhelmed with how lucky I am to be loved. Overwhelmed by happiness because my job lets me take pictures of my favourite musicians. Overwhelmed by the magic of this time machine of a music festival that allows me to be exactly here in the present moment, while feeling all of my life before me at the very same time.

Note: As younger generations enjoyed Lucy Dacus and Lord Huron at the RBC stage, there was once again a blend of time with older generations enjoying nostalgic performances by Billy Bragg and Social Distortion. Both put on memorable, high-energy punk rock shows on the Hard Rock stage. 

Royal Otis

Social Distortion

Billy Bragg

Koko Love