Rock history being made right before your eyes

What a Saturday this year’s festival provided!

From the sweet and sweaty gypsy punk mosh-pit at the Gogol Bordello show (pictured) to Ben Harper’s soulfully seductive late afternoon set, I chose quality over quantity today, attending fewer shows but staying at them longer. This fit my “injured reserve” list status (see yesterday’s blog), and the shows I chose were all stellar, with the best being the last.

Every Bonnaroo seems to have at least one show of pure legend, one undiluted, blissful, and transcendent nugget of rock history being made right before your eyes.

Last year, My Morning Jacket’s late Friday night magic marathon surely secured that band’s ascendant fate and future reputation.

Even though the What Stage sets I’ve seen so far were strong, with Ben Harper’s being the best, the true headliner of the festival did not play the main stage. Move over Maynard. Move over Sting.

This year, the revered and revelatory set of pure legend transpired at midnight on Which Stage when Bonnaroo became Wayne’s World. After an enthusiastic sound check of “War Pigs” at 11pm, the masses waited for an hour. Then, The Flaming Lips arrived in a space ship, blew our minds for over two hours of absolutely insanely beautiful psychedelic pop, and then left in the space ship again.

The battery on my computer is dying, and my free time in the shade is running out. I hope to finish this journal later—probably tomorrow. Another great Bonnaroo ends today.