In the late ‘90s, there was a myth belaboured by the music industry — two women on a bill, or back-to-back on the radio, simply couldn’t be done. In 1996, singer-songwriter Sarah McLachlan was met with this misogyny-soaked “superstition” upon suggesting Paula Cole as support on a forthcoming tour. Exhausted and enraged by such discriminatory limitations, McLachlan made up her mind. It was time for radical action.

The result was Lilith Fair.

The revolutionary festival ran from 1997-1999, returning briefly in 2010 and featuring artists spanning genres from folk to rock and pop to hip-hop, including the Indigo Girls, Tracy Chapman, The Pretenders, Erykah Badu, and more. It offered a space for women, onstage and off, to feel seen, heard, and positioned squarely in the spotlight. It unshackled a community from the industry ideologies that had kept them separate, small, and in competition. And in spite of promoters’ warnings, Lilith Fair was the top touring festival of 1997, with crowd sizes and ticket sales that landed strides ahead of Lollapalooza.

But apart from absolutely destroying age-old belief systems within the music world, Lilith Fair had a larger, sociopolitical slant. During its three-year run, the festival racked up 10 million dollars for community-level women’s charities like Planned Parenthood, RAINN, domestic violence shelters and more.

While the 2010 iteration didn’t get entirely off the ground — it was ultimately cancelled due to poor ticket sales — McLachlan has long hoped one day she would be able to pass the torch.

And just shy of 30 years from Lilith Fair’s inaugural iteration, in Irvine, California, that hope was actualised.

“This is the best day of my fucking life,” Olivia Rodrigo shouts from Grant Park’s main stage. The 23-year-old pop star is speaking to an audience of 45,000 — a diverse group of mostly female-identifying people of all ages who had each presumably snagged a ticket to Rodrigo’s Daisy Chain Fields Festival during the impressive 30 minutes they were available before entirely selling out. Topped by Rodrigo herself, the festival’s all-women lineup is equally diverse in genre and generation — though there remains a key throughline outside of just gender. Each artist on the proverbial “daisy chain” uses their voice. They are vocal and use their platforms, musically and politically. They move culture, and are unabashedly themselves.

Kicking the day off is Austin’s Die Spitz, the quartet of 22-year-olds making an emphatic, noteworthy punk-metal-grunge amalgam that quite literally spits in the face of society’s gross failures. “We depend on our freedom. Freedom to do what we want, present the ideas we want, make the music we want,” vocalist/guitarist Eleanor Livingston says. And it’s as evident on stage as it is in their punishing lyrics, with each member expressing their own style musically, swapping instruments mid-set, and aesthetically, with one donning a sundress, another in full corpse paint.

On the same stage, the pure and unadulterated feminist force that is Bikini Kill follows. This is where Rodrigo’s curation begins to shine, a showcase of not only cross-generational ripple effects but the power of unanimous frustration channelled into something creative and inspiring. The legendary Riot Grrrl pioneers, since the very beginning, epitomised much of what Rodrigo, and McLachlan before her, aim to express through their festivals, no matter how much rougher and more hardcore-rooted frontwoman Kathleen Hanna’s delivery may be. And their set stands up to that reputation, Hanna noting, off the bat, that it would be the first instance where the band didn’t need to throw out an age-old plea, “girls to the front!”

Top to bottom, the set is an unapologetic gut punch, full of joy and Hanna’s jaunty dancing. Between the perfect shrill “Rebel Girl” cries, the frontwoman pauses to deliver an emotional, punk rock sermon, urging the audience to keep using their voice. “Keep teaching the people who are older than you, even if they are being hesitant, and weird, and fucked up about it. Keep teaching the people in your family about this stuff, and don’t give up.” And with the mic held close to her smeared bright pink lipstick, she adds, “And if you’re a cis white male, you fucking tell your friends to stop treating women like shit.”

After watching a moment of Mitski, it’s to the alt-rock-focused Marigold Stage for The Breeders who give an impeccable performance. Aside from the undeniable swagger the Deal sisters have never shaken, they sound near-perfect, playing the hits and debuting unreleased tracks, ‘Alien Eyes’ and ‘Ghost’. The addition of a cellist give ‘Drivin’ on 9’ an incredible alt-country lilt, but it’s down to the quirky distortion effects to deliver a hefty and satisfying dose of unimpeded nostalgia for those who grew up on their music. And regarding those with fresh ears, it certainly looks like there are quite a few converts. 

Back across the park was Doechii, who it was easy to see getting the crowd riled up in ways the day hadn’t yet seen. Painted neon pink, she dances and stomps across the main stage like a high-energy, hip-hop version of Kembra Pfahler’s shock rock outfit Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black. Watching her performance, it’s clear how rock and punk have shaped her brand of rap and hip-hop, particularly via an outspoken, high-energy, vocal-forward band like Paramore, whom she has cited as an influence. 

Garbage was up next on the Marigold Stage, with Shirley Manson taking to the stage in an unforgettable outfit, with the word “punk” inscribed across the chest. Though you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who might need it to remember where she comes from, and how she moves. Despite quite a few technical difficulties, which Shirley turns into motivational speeches about the importance of making mistakes and how Garbage has always remained the underdogs, they smash the set. The swelling crowd, an awesome combination of enthusiastic older fans and an impressive amount of eager younger ones, as proven by the screaming, jumping, and sheer amount of unique and handmade Garbage merch being worn by the women and girls gathered.

Not For Radio then make the final mark on Marigold Stage, emerging as dusk falls and perched ballerina-like on a mound of grass, enshrouded in soft light. Ethereal, sombre and slightly surreal, the sound of Maria Zardoya’s solo indie project offers a refreshing respite from the intensity of the previous sets, quite literally mirroring the cool breeze that arrives with darkness after a blisteringly hot, emotional day. 

But there is little time to decompress. Olivia Rodrigo and Friends are next, who kicks off her headlining set with a moment of thanks before introducing her first, unlikely friend. Melinda French Gates, who enthusiastically declared she would be matching the 10 million dollars the festival had raised for various non-profits.

The poignant message solidifies the biggest takeaway from today even before the main performance begins: Rodrigo is a punk in her own way. Standing on the shoulders of those who came before – figuratively, but also literally, considering the non-conforming, DIY luminaries who she’d invited onto Daisy Chain’s stages throughout the day – she emanates those values in a language that reaches 45,000 plus people from all walks of life.

To her set, she brings intense, buoyant energy and a watery-eyed expression of gratitude while playing the sardonic hits which, despite their sugary pop overtones, draw inspiration from artists like The Cure, Smashing Pumpkins, Hole and L7, each of whom have been co-signers of her work, as much as someone like Taylor Swift. Over the course of the hour-and-a-half-long set, Rodrigo emphasises her ability to bridge generations, as well as her deep appreciation and understanding of those who came before, leaving boundaries bulldozed in their wake. Sharing the stage with guests Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, and Stevie Nicks, who lingers for a minute after Rodrigo had closed out the show to deliver the day’s final sentiment.

“She reminds me a lot of me. I’m awestruck by her grace, and crazy, crazy energy. Take her to your heart; she’s very special.” Turning to Rodrigo, and then the audience, she left with a simple directive for both, “Don’t ever give that up… Support her women’s rights thing!”

All in all, for those quick to lambaste mainstream or popular music, think twice. Daisy Chain Fields served as a celebration of what’s at the very core of counter-culture. Perhaps with less overt aggression, but still born of the same exasperation at deleterious political systems, mounting social alienation, and the ballooning of bigotry that’s sliding society as a whole speedily backwards, the day delivered that sentiment on a massive scale and, consequently, with a massive, meaningful impact.

One word Kathleen Hanna, who, across her many written, musical and creative projects, had always been focused on “consciousness-raising”, used repeatedly throughout the afternoon was “galvanise.” It is also a word that astutely sums up the call to action McLachlan felt when she created Lilith Fair, as much as it does what kids have done for decades, fighting restlessness and feeling othered by gathering with other individuals with box-bleached hair and building divisive rock bands in their moms’ suburban basements.

It also sums up the day at Daisy Chain, an experience that exemplified, in those who passed the torch to those who received, the actionable power of music in real time.

As Rodrigo teased onstage, it seems there will be a next year. And if she continues to look back at Lilith Fair as a guide, this festival could become something even more genre-expansive, fit for an audience that grows in size and agnosticism while remaining rooted in a common goal and ideology — amplifying loud feminists of the past, present and future.

Who knows, perhaps we’ll get to see a bill that puts bands like Evanescence, Poppy, maybe even Dying Wish, shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Sabrina Carpenter and Gracie Abrams.