Download 2026: Sunday – Festival Review

Download Festival – Sunday (also see Friday and Saturday)
Donington Park, Derbyshire
14th June 2026

By Sunday morning, Download Festival has become a test of character. Rather more specifically, a test of how many questionable decisions made last night could be overcome with coffee and stubbornness.

Whatever optimism exists when my alarm goes off quickly disappears. Cameras stay in the bag. The campsite looks brighter than any human being should reasonably be expected to tolerate. Bands are playing somewhere. I assume they are probably very good. Eventually, however, duty calls.

And so my final day at Download Festival begins not with an early morning sprint to the photo pit, but with a packed shuttle bus full of photographers heading towards Dogstar. Before the bus has even moved, a voice from somewhere near the front asks a simple question “Can anybody name me three Dogstar songs?” Silence. Dozens of photographers. Not a single answer. The entourage onboard break into laughter because everybody knows the truth. We aren’t here for Dogstar. We’re here for Keanu Reeves.

The joke somehow follows us all the way to the stage. Before the band begin properly, Reeves steps up to the microphone and casually informs the audience that they first need to perform a “line check”. The grin that follows suggests he knows exactly how gloriously cheesy the joke is. The crowd groans. The crowd laughs. Keanu laughs too. It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect and thankfully the band themselves prove considerably more than a celebrity curiosity. Reeves remains an understandably magnetic presence, but the band themselves deliver a tight, confident performance that wins over a crowd initially drawn by the novelty factor. By the end, people are talking about the songs rather than the actor, which is probably the biggest compliment any musician with a famous day job could hope for.

The Pretty Wild continue Sunday’s momentum while providing one of the most genuinely pleasant encounters of the weekend. The Las Vegas act have spent the last few years steadily building a following through a blend of hard rock, metalcore influences and unapologetically modern attitude, carving out a space that feels entirely their own. Their rise has been driven as much by personality as performance, and both are on full display at Download.

Away from the stage, that confidence gives way to something equally impressive. Both sisters prove warm, engaging and refreshingly down to earth, taking time to chat despite what must have been a hectic festival schedule. Afterwards, I’m able to grab a post set portrait that reminds me sometimes the best photographs happen after the amplifiers have been switched off.

Then comes TX2. Hailing from Texas, frontman Evan Thomas has spent the last few years building a devoted following by fusing pop punk, metalcore, emo and internet culture into something that feels uniquely modern. Purists don’t always know what to make of him. Which, judging by the grin on his face, is probably exactly how he likes it.

Part musician, part provocateur and part professional wind up merchant, Thomas has built a career out of challenging the gatekeepers of alternative music. The more criticism he attracts, the larger his audience seems to become. Live, however, the online discourse suddenly feels irrelevant. The band attack the Avalanche Stage with the sort of energy usually associated with groups playing much later in the day. Every song feels designed to provoke a reaction. Every chorus feels aimed directly at the outsiders, misfits and gloriously awkward kids who have always found a home within alternative music.

At this point, however, the previous night’s enthusiasm for alcohol is beginning to submit its formal complaint. The sun has abandoned all restraint and is now attempting to melt me into mulch. Every step feels like an administrative task. My body is operating on a delicate balance of caffeine, regret and blind optimism. Faced with the very real possibility of becoming the first photographer to evaporate during a festival, I make the only sensible decision available: food, water, and then considerably more water. Somewhere between inhaling a meal and draining enough fluids to replenish a small reservoir, I slowly begin to resemble a functioning human being again.

Now rumours have been circulating throughout the day about a secret set. By the time Skindred finally emerge on the Dogtooth Stage, the crowd is already overflowing far beyond what the area was designed to contain. What follows is less a concert and more an apocalyptic carnival. Bodies move in every conceivable direction. Crowd surfers arrive in endless waves. Benji Webbe conducts the chaos with the ease of a man who has spent decades turning festival crowds into giant parties. Across the entire weekend, no audience feels more alive. Download has witnessed bigger crowds. It may even have witnessed heavier bands. It is difficult to imagine it witnessing a crazier atmosphere.

Social Distortion provide a welcome change of pace. Mike Ness and company bring a sense of timeless cool that few bands can replicate. While trends have come and gone around them, Social Distortion continue doing exactly what they have always done. Writing great songs and playing them exceptionally well.

Then comes another moment I never quite expected to experience. Like many teenagers discovering alternative music, Rage Against The Machine were more than just a band. They were a gateway. A challenge. A reason to question things. Their music felt dangerous, exciting and unlike anything else I had heard. So standing in a Download photo pit watching Tom Morello perform feels every bit as surreal as photographing Bush twenty four hours earlier.

The riffs remain enormous. The solos remain completely ridiculous. Morello somehow continues to make a guitar sound like machinery malfunctioning in the best possible way. But what has always separated Morello from countless guitar heroes is that the music has never existed in a vacuum. Politics remains woven into every aspect of the performance, and Download receives the full force of it.

One of Morello’s guitars bears the message “F**k Tommy Robinson” across the back in letters impossible to miss, while the giant video walls behind the band become a rolling collage of political imagery, protest footage and messages reflecting his long standing activist stance. Slogans and campaign visuals flash across the screens throughout the set, reinforcing themes of solidarity, resistance and social justice.

And honestly, would anybody expect anything else? This is the man who spent decades writing songs called Killing In The Name, Bulls On Parade and Guerrilla Radio. Asking Tom Morello to avoid politics would be like askingGordon Ramsay to whisper during a kitchen meltdown. It is a reminder that the rebellious spirit which made Rage Against The Machine so vital in the first place was never simply about riffs. It was about challenging authority, provoking discussion and refusing to stay silent. Whether the audience agrees with every message or not, there is something undeniably refreshing about an artist still willing to wear his convictions so openly.

As evening approaches, A Day To Remember arrive to one of the largest crowds of the day. Before the band even appear, the stage is already packed with performers, crew members and assorted characters helping set the scene for a production that feels more like an event than a standard festival slot. When Jeremy McKinnon finally takes the stage, the response is immediate. Massive choruses, breakdowns and crowd participation follow in industrial quantities. Download knows every word and happily spends the next hour shouting them back.

Next comes one of the stranger moments of the weekend. Scooter are about to play. Photographers, however, are informed that there will be no photo pit access due to safety concerns surrounding the production. Pyro. Smoke. Fire. More pyro. Whether entirely true or not, nobody seems particularly interested in arguing. By now though, something unexpected has happened. The regrets about the previous night’s alcohol consumption have finally disappeared. In fact, standing among tens of thousands of people waiting for the final headliner of the weekend, I find myself thinking something slightly alarming in that I‘d happily do it all again tonight.

But first, Linkin Park. The final headline slot of the weekend carries enormous emotional weight before a note is even played. For the first time in Download Festival’s history, a female fronted band is headlining the festival, with Emily Armstrong stepping onto the Apex Stage into one of the most scrutinised roles in modern music. Replacing Chester Bennington was never going to be possible and continuing Linkin Park’s story seemed almost unthinkable. Yet, somehow, here we are. The moment the band take the stage, any lingering doubts evaporate. What follows is not an exercise in nostalgia. Nor is it an attempt to recreate the past. Instead, Linkin Park achieve something far more impressive. They honour their legacy while proving they still have a future.

Armstrong is magnificent,bringing a raw intensity and commanding stage presence that immediately wins over the Donington crowd. The pressure on her shoulders must be immense, yet she performs with the confidence of someone who belongs on this stage. By the end of the set, any debate about whether she deserves to be there feels utterly irrelevant. Around her, the band are operating at a level few can match. Mike Shinoda remains one of rock’s most charismatic frontmen, effortlessly guiding the audience through a career spanning set packed with emotional highs and explosive releases. Every song lands. Every chorus becomes a mass singalong. From the opening notes of the classics to the newer material representing this latest chapter, Download responds with unwavering devotion.

Then come the moments that remind everyone why Linkin Park became one of the defining bands of a generation. Numb. In The End. Faint. Some songs transcend popularity and become part of people’s lives. Looking around the crowd, it is impossible not to notice how many memories are attached to these tracks. Friends throw arms around shoulders. Complete strangers sing together. Phones illuminate the darkness. Voices carry across Donington with a volume that rivals the PA system itself.

For a festival built on heavy music, rebellion and community, it feels strangely perfect. There is emotion, certainly. How could there not be? Chester Bennington’s absence remains deeply felt. But there is also joy. Genuine, overwhelming joy. The kind that only comes from seeing a band refuse to let tragedy be the final chapter of their story. As the final songs echo across Donington Park, Linkin Park accomplish something remarkable. They don’t simply close the festival. They unite it.

Seventy two hours earlier I’d arrived at Download Festival with a camera, a press wristband and a reasonable sleep schedule. Only two of those things survive the weekend. Since then I’ve watched photographers get evacuated from pits, witnessed secret sets descend into complete bedlam, photographed musicians I’ve grown up listening to, laughed at Keanu Reeves making terrible jokes, and somehow found myself standing beneath a shower of confetti as Linkin Park close the festival by making Download history.

On the walk back to my tent I start to reflect on the past three days. Friday had chaos. Saturday had spectacle. Sunday had heart. Monday morning arrives and as the exodus begins, one thing becomes painfully clear to me. The real challenge isn’t surviving your first Download Festival. It’s figuring out how you’re going to wait an entire year before doing it all again.

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All photos by Adam Williams unless otherwise stated. Click to follow here.