Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Scene & Herd Heat, music and dust clouds
Posted by John F. Sugg on Wed, Jun 20, 2007 at 12:25 AM
THE JOYS OF BONNAROO: With years, and some counseling, he will remember the weekend fondly.
Drop 80,000 people onto 700 acres of hellishly hot, dust-soaked Tennessee farmland, and it could be Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. But it’s only the Bonnaroo music festival. True, there were no death fights in a cage à la Thunderdome. Maybe that’ll happen next year.
The crowd comes for the music -- and whatever else, from nudity, to didgeridoos, to tie-dye, to pot, to, as Brit chanteuse Lily Allen put it during her concert, “fucking in tents, even if you have to do it with a guy with a small penis.†It must drive Republicans crazy that so much freedom is concentrated in one place.
Concert grounds designer Russ Bennett says, “All the bands are great. If you don’t like a band, it’s your taste. And the big bands†-- the Police, Tool, the White Stripes, Wilco and Ziggy Marley were among the headliners -- “are just the warm-up groups for the lesser-known bands.â€
(Photo by Joeff Davis)
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Friends do not let hippy friends attend hippy festivals with their pre-hippy offspring. Nice spots for the radiation signs, BTW.
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Bonnaroo Music Festival is a huge party with fabulous background music. Right on, the music is killer and “that’s what it’s all about.†And it’s true that not everyone goes for the drugs. Not everyone. Bonnaroo is Cajun slang for a “really good time,†and although the stellar lineup of artists certainly creates a mood, it simply isn’t the focus. The party is the focus. And I think it’s safe to say that typically any kind of festival is largely considered first and foremost a party. It’s about people! And people coming together. So we won’t pretend that Bonnaroo is anything special per se, in terms of intentions. But Bonnaroo certainly ain’t no slouch, either. It’s an incredible party. And not for the faint at heart. Folks from Vancouver to Miami come in search for more people. When a festival gains as much popularity as “the legendary Bonnaroo Music Festival†(99x), it’s bound to attract thousands of crazy people—you think as you order your ticket online. And hence the masses flock, and hence the festival experience lives on: by word of mouth: by people. Bonnaroo is music, but more so a monumental celebration for those who love to get down. Bonnaroo is a gift to the people. So that’s what organizers prepare for. A party. And they do that by creating an atmosphere that will, ideally, be interesting. The far-out farmland speaks to Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters’ loony plot in La Honda, California, with wild and whimsical lighting and ground decorations. An enormous, glowing ferriswheel, life-size puppets made of household items, a maze of silly-string and a gigantic, water-spewing mushroom make altering one’s consciousness a gratifying endeavor. But yes, the party can become overwhelming. There’s hardly much room to escape it. You can duck away to your tent or RV for a moment, but as sure as love is all you need something will get you back on your feet. There’s simply too much to explore at Bonnaroo, too many interesting people to meet, too many substances to experiment with (when in Rome!). And so the people-perpetuating-more-people formula proliferates. Who can stay cooped up in their camp when the reason for coming is to experience? No time for lollygagging. We must go further! That isn’t to say the camp grounds are dull. Hardly. In fact, the designated camp grounds that dominate the 700 acre farmland are arguably where it “really†happens. After all, as R. Kelly says, “After the show, it’s the after party.†The camp is where the pushers peruse, the bottles unseal and the “privacy†of tents accommodates some happy, hippy love making. The music plays while you roam the farmland like Hunter Thompson running amok through Las Vegas, spinning your own Fear and Loathing in Manchester, Tennessee. And how pleasant it is, tripping from stage to stage, enjoying the delicious, background tunes as your very own personalized party unfolds at your whim. Thanks for another wild ride, Bonnaroo. Keep freakin’ me out.
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