Picture this: it’s a beautiful sunny summer day in Benicàssim, Spain. A hypothetical person – let’s call him Alejandro – has woken up feeling a little rough from the previous evening’s revelry. Our man (Alejandro) disregards his hangover and practically launches himself from his sleeping bag and out of his tent, crammed amongst hundreds of others – if not thousands – in the designated camping area of the 2018 Festival Internacional de Benicàssim. Alejandro might be feeling a bit worse for wear, but he has that which makes any human being completely unstoppable: a purpose. He has the clarity of singular vision.
Powering forth with the same purposeful stride that bore Martin Luther to the church door in Wittenberg upon which he nailed his Ninety-five Theses, Alejandro marches towards the sea. Shirtsleeves rolled back to reveal forearms swelling with coiled musculature – relaxed and yet ready to strike at any moment – he stands waist-deep in the water, gazing into it like a hawk gazes upon an unsuspecting jackrabbit. A flicker of silvery motion beneath the sea’s unquiet surface – he snatches quickly and competently into the water. He lifts his hands to reveal his prize: a beautiful cod.
Alejandro returns to the shore, professionally dispatching the fish, and – applying great care – uses electrical tape to attach the now-still cod to his stomach. After putting his shirt back on, he heads back to the festival. He sees a number of bands and has a good enough time, but he is waiting for something: his favourite act. He is waiting for Liam Gallagher to come on. The dry, Spanish heat quickly draws a strong odour from the fish. Alejandro does not care. He has a purpose.
Then, the time comes: Liam Gallagher is on the main stage. Alejandro stands in the crowd, rapt, two or three people back from the barrier. A dozen yards – maybe – between him and Liam. He bides his time.
Two songs play. Three. Four. Seven. Ten. The final notes of Supersonic ring out and Alejandro knows this is when he must seize his moment. The delicate hairs on his stomach are ripped out as he grabs the pungent fish that was taped to his abdomen, but he does not feel the pain. In this moment, Alejandro is perfect. He is an angel of grace, a vector of pure force. Throwing his arm back like a desperate German soldier preparing to hurl a Stielhandgranate into an Allied trench, Alejandro launches the fish at the stage.
Experiencing the most beautiful moment of its life well after it had died, the cod describes a perfect arc from the tip of Alejandro’s outstretched fingers to the feet of Liam Gallagher. Purpose fulfilled, Alejandro is free to enjoy Cigarettes and Alcohol.
That was, of course, pure speculation. All we know is that someone did throw a fish on stage while Liam Gallagher was playing at FIB and he was not happy about it. In his own words:
Which dickhead threw the fish here then? Fucking stinky, smelly fish, man. Now listen, man, it really ain’t that fucking bad, man. Don’t be throwing fish on stage, mate. I’ve seen a lot worse than this shit. Alright? I can’t be fucking singing while there’s a fish there, man.
We will never know who did this or why, but we can rest assured knowing that, somehow, it was absolutely the appropriate thing to do. You can watch the clip below: