The Bonnaroo Saga, Part Three.
- It was his birthday.
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Now that we actually knew where our tent was and how to get back to it, we were now working on finding the fastest route to and from the main site (or at least I was…I was trying to beat my time everytime I walked to and from….I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right, I don’t have a life). We made it back from Umphrey’s in about 18 minutes.
- Saturday, 6:30am
Rise and shine at 6.30am. I was getting up earlier and earlier every day at roo and I still didn’t give a shit. In spite of the hourage (4 or 5 hours max) of sleep I had gotten, I felt like I had slept for days. Damn. This place is awesome. It was as if my body knew that I would need a full day of life to see and experience all that was to come out of our Saturday – ultimately our longest day of rooing.
And what a Saturday it was. The Tennessee sun greeted us with the warm welcoming glow we had come to expect from the Volunteer sky. A cool late-spring breeze aerated the tent and gave a gentle ruffle to the raincovers and flags littering the farm. Stepping outside the tent, I felt the damp blades of grass massage the bottoms of my feet, fresh morning dew coating each step I took. The usual 4am fog had subsided and left the valley with a thin sheath of cool air to enjoy…(I’d liken it to the first skate on an ice rink following a good cleaning from a Zamboni, but introducing any sort of technology into this picture would do it a great injustice). This was a perfect day – hot, breezy, clear, FUCK YEAH, Saturday. Now I knew why hippie groups were so adamant about their greenpeace missions. This was definitely worth it.
We headed for Centeroo at around noon. It took 23 minutes to get there. Our first stop was the Sonic Village, iced coffee our treat of choice. We got there just in time for a sit-down interview with Les Claypool. I couldn’t hear him too well but judging by the reactions of the crowd, I think he was saying some pretty wild stuff. I was fine with just seeing the man up close…what a god. Claypool hit the road after about 15 minutes and the next 2½ hours after that are a blur of crazy musical goodness. High-energy acoustic sets from Blues Traveler, Gomez, and moe. set Steven, Brendan, and I off into the clouds. We couldn’t believe what the fuck we were hearing…every song from every band was just !!! and when it was all over, it was
still only 3:30! SICK.
After the Sonic Stage shows, we went our separate ways for the first and only time throughout the trip. Steven and Brendan went to see Beck, and I high-tailed it over to catch Medeski Martin & Wood. Before we split, we caught most of Damian Marley’s ridiculously/perfectly loud set at Which Stage. Jr. Gong put on an insane show, complete with some killer remixes of some Bob songs. I remember thinking to myself, “man, reggae is definitely the best music to listen to at ear-piercing volumes.” I also remember thinking, “man, Magic Hat is awesome.” I understand the latter is not nearly as profound a statement as the first, but it’s just as relevant to the story.
This leads me to two more important notes about Bonnaroo: the incredible sound quality and the equally incredible beverage quality. Each stage was perfectly mixed so you could walk from the very front of the stage to the last row of people filing in 300ft. away and not lose any sound. The layers of sound were as clear as they were consistent, and loud enough to know you were at a rock concert without fucking your eardrums for the rest of the weekend. Just as notable was the brew at Bonnaroo. Tent after tent had awesome local brews, plus some surprising finds like one of my personal favs, Magic Hat. Every keg was fresh, and every pour was top-notch, a testament to the poor souls who volunteered themselves to work the beer stands. Hell, even shitass Bud Light tasted good coming from these people. Miracle workers I tell you, miracle workers.
I got over to The Other Tent to scope out a spot for MMW and caught the tail end of Amadou & Mariam, an AMAZING Afro-blues couple from Mali. They combine aspects of world music from just about every continent with jazz, blues, and caribbean vibes. I came to find out later that their lack of interaction with the crowd was because they’re both blind…heh..whoops. MMW came out and started noodling around and really didn’t stop noodling for their entire set. Free-form jazz and psychedelia came together in a giant musical group-hug the three were having on stage. Billy Martin shouldn’t be allowed to peform live, he’s too insane for the likes of human ears. He was beating on shells and trash cans and was in perfect harmony with Chris Wood and John Medeski. Martin walks and talks in syncopation, I’m convinced. I had been wanting to see MMW for years and this show was definitely worth the wait.
As I tried to come back down to earth, I caught pieces of Claypool’s and Cypress Hill’s sets (made even more memorable by Cypress Hill’s two-story tall Buddha with a gigantic pot leaf on its stomach). I met up with Steven and Brendan, who were also trying to come back to earth after Beck’s performance. It was evidentally one of Beck’s best shows of his career, highlighted by some Beck solo spots, the band family dinner, and the marionettes! (In the middle of the set, Beck’s band sat down for dinner right on stage as Beck played by himself. He eventually joined the band and puppets played the rest of the songs as they ate. Yeah, really.)
What followed was one of the true highlights of Bonnaroo 06, and one of the greatest concerts I have ever seen. As day turned to dusk and then into night, an enormous crowd of the full 80,000 roo attendees filed in to What Stage, some dressed in costume, others dressed in glow sticks, still others not dressed at all. A group of Radioheads walked by in head-to-toe space suits, another in matching scientist garb. A young chap with an insightfully hairy back stood next to us, 5, maybe 6 feet away, wearing tighty whities, black shoes, and calf-high white socks. And that was all. People were coming by in droves, walking around the chairs beside us, and between the young hippie couple in front of us. Some tripped over our blanket, others tripped over the chairs, but just about everyone of them was tripping in one way or another. It was a sight for the ages.
As night fell upon Manchester, the bright neon green Bonnaroo sign atop What Stage went black, signalling the entry of a small rock and roll band from across the Atlantic. A gigantic wall of sharply-angled, misshaped video screens began to flicker, signs of life emanating from the black stage in the form of grainy digital video and bliptacular electronic sparks. Figures appeared in the darkness and the opening tom-tom hits of “There There” thundered through the Tennessee night. Thom Yorke followed with the ever-so-fitting opening line, “In pitch dark, I go walking in your landscape.” For the next 2½ hours, he wasn’t a performer, and Radiohead wasn’t an act. A band of 5 englishmen had joined 80,000 hot, sweaty concert-goers in a sea of humanity and unbridled enjoyment of life. The crowd put on as much of a show for the band as the band had for us. At that moment, Radiohead and their crazy light & video show completely owned the world. Phrenetic glowstick wars erupted every third or fourth song, and the band loved every second of it.
- Madness (and lack of adequate light) during Radiohead.
“Now this is what a real festival is supposed to be.” – Thom Yorke midway through the 28-song set (5 or 6 of which were brand new).
The show concluded with an amazing 4 song encore of “Idioteque,” “Karma Police,” the new track “House of Cards,” and “Everything in its Place.” I can say with certainty that if the new tracks they played are any indication of what’s to come on the new album, it will be nothing short of EUPHORIC. And I never dare to use the word euphoric.
Yea, brah..they were that good.
We slowly headed back to camp and prepared for the final hurrah that Bonnaroo had to offer. One last day remained for the Stevens at Bonnaroo. We had turned a corner that night – we went from wide-eyed goofballs not knowing what the fuck we were getting into and became experienced rooers, journeym’n if you will. And just when we thought it couldn’t get any sweeter, we checked our schedules and realized just what we were in for on Sunday. It was tough getting to sleep that night.
to be concluded…
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