By my estimation, Bonnaroo is a fantasy. A dream that should never have come true—but somehow does: the convergence of contradictions jamming on the head of a psychedelic pin. It’s the end of civilization, and this is one of the parties to end the world with style.
Even music fans of the hardcore variety might not make the effort to travel so far, spend too much cash on food & fuel, dealing with the general discomfort. But somehow, the comfortable insanity intoxicates & infects the roo-sters. “Reality is a condition caused by the absence of Bonnaroo,” the graffiti & t-shirt proclaim.
And for those who like festivals, digging on the spontaneous cooperation and funky flirtations, the ‘roo might be too massive. Aren’t there smaller, less chaotic, temporary autonomous zones?
Do we love the punishing heat or the even more sweltering social contradiction? Do we condone the teenage wasteland, the underage drug & alcohol abuse? Doe the libertarian in us enjoy the overpriced consumeroo or the outlaw outskirts with its freakified flea market, the blossoming black market based on cash-only commerce & barter for pharmacological wonders? Does all the fun justify the accidental deaths & boneheaded frat-like pranks?
I suppose I would have to be considered one of those set-hopping whirlwind wingnuts who did the festival with devotional veracity. In four days, I saw over 30 performances: several full sets, even more serious chunks of sets, and finally, a grab bag of snippets & slivers. I think I must have walked at least 10 miles during my time there. Weary & without regret, we left during the Phil Lesh set on Sunday night.
The delicate balance barely manages itself. And I barely managed myself on a well-steeped brew of healthy, (brought it from home) snackfood, short doses of sleep, & strategic blend of mind-altering substance. Rolling & rocking between the stupendous & the stupid, the ecstatic & exhausted, I somehow tapped the spontaneous wonder of why some people must come here every year.
But Bonnaroo has an underbelly of drug busts, petty crime against innocent patrons, internal bickering, & bungled moments. These won’t stop the organizers from proclaiming their own proud success. The boastful phrase “nearly flawless logistics” must be taken with caution. Without the dose of necessary disclaimers, the bragging is almost embarrassing.
Preaching “green” is great (which Bonnaroo proper does with precision & vision), and the tireless effort of the Clean Vibes (recycling & general cleanup) crew truly inspired me, but the festival itself is on the excessive side of sheer excess in every imaginable way. But even eco-star Bonnie Raitt simply praised Bonnaroo. It seems almost sacrilege to call out the blazing disconnect between the Planet Roo message of earth democracy & the ridiculously arbitrary and undemocratic reality of the massive, wasteful roo-ocracy.
But for every stressed-out security supervisor, I saw at least a hundred younger employees who clearly loved their summer temp jobs. Bonnaroo attendees come from privilege, but many kids who couldn’t afford the ticket came to work & clearly felt good about that decision.
Of course, we all know that something exists to allow these organizers some slack, to tolerate and even pay for their hierarchy of flawed politics & institutionalized hypocrisy. We know the reason why we also put up with heat & the dust, the bursts of parking lot stupidity & the undercover cops & private security possee on horseback.
Yeah, I swallowed some of my values & didn’t start a protest because of that one common thread. This thread tightly wove a wild carnivalesque community out of all this apocalyptic decadence. Because I went there for the sound, for the song & dance, for the performance art & temporary sculpture, I could honestly honor the way in which the postmodern, watered-down version of the Woodstock Nation still can get it together to dance.
I danced & danced hard; the sweat poured from my pores. The music I saw so ran the gamut from very good to truly exceptional. Excepting the mammoth main stage where I only saw two shows, I got real close for every set. The love of my weekend was the Tent Stages of Centeroo and the after-hours jams. Who couldn’t feel some love for the vibrant village that surrounded the tents with its mood of a music-lovers’ theme park—like the Cedar Point for the hippy-punk-raver set, where we have rollers instead of rollercoasters.
Bonnaroo provided an illicit amount of fun: including the scandalous set by the Bindlestiff Circus & my own preachin’ performance on the solar stage & so much more that I will have to add to this thread later.
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