Cracking Spines

Jun 12, 2009 12:14pm
originally published, in slightly different form, by decider. BONNAROO, day 1 “Millions of dollars,” the waitress said. “Literally, millions of dollars is what this thing brings in. And no one in town knows where it goes.” A tray in under her arm, she stood in the middle of the mostly empty (maybe three of the twenty tables were seated) Hometown Diner in Manchester, Tennessee, having just delivered two buck-and-a-half coffees to a table. The cops had closed down one of the entrances to town, so that the tens of thousands of potential patrons had no access to the restaurant. “I mean, probably some of it goes to the fire department and the police station and stuff like that. But I tell you what. If I’m a business owner? I’m going to the next town meeting and raising hell.” Ten minutes later, outside the Fantasy 101 radio station in downtown Manchester, there was a minor car accident. A small, red hatchback hit a curb and its fender busted. Soon, one ambulance, one fire truck, five police cars – three unmarked – and two motorcycle officers showed up on the scene. The driver and passenger drove away unharmed. With their tie-dyed shirts and dred-locked hair, it’s safe to assume they were heading to the farm. Bonnaroo was about to begin. MursThe hip-hop tent was particularly congenial. All night long the artists deferred their praise back to the crowd, pleading pedestrian status. “I’m here just like you,” Murs said. “Backstage, I took a shit in a port-a-potty.” On stage, he rocked through a set of his typically introspective (self-hating, female-loving) but upbeat songs. It was one of the first concerts of the evening, and the audience a while to get going. But by the time he played “Bad Man” toward the end of his show, all the heads in the crowd were synchronized, bobbing to whatever beat his DJ chose to spin. The KnuxAn informal survey before The Knux’s show revealed that many of the people inside Bonnaroo’s The Other Tent had never heard the group’s songs before. “I’ve heard of them,” was the most common response. Nevertheless the fans jostled each other for better floor positions and friggin’ got down veritably when they played their single “Bang Bang.” And then got down veritably again when they let the beat from MGMT’s “Kids” run for a couple minutes. And then again when they played Kris Kross’ “Jump.” Brothers Krispy Kream and Rah Almillio pulled (newly converted) fans up on to the stage for a dance-a-long to “F!RE (Put It In The Air).” Given their relative anonymity, The Knux’s ability to draw the crowd into the show –indeed, onto the stage – made theirs stand out as probably the best performance of the night. People Under The StairsOwing to a thunderstorm that inspired festival-goers to find whatever shelter they could, LA rappers People Under The Stairs had a capacity crowd for their show. It was an odd audience, but an adaptable one. Some relented to adhere to the hip-hop two-step, instead maintaining their more hippyish styles. One dancer’s moves were compared to a Jello mold. Still, like most, he jiggled happily through the entire set. What was nice was that PUTS added an improvisational element to their show, starting off with a freestyle, and mixing impromptu verses in throughout the night. Not quite as high-energy as The Knux or Murs, but certainly a nice comedown from the night’s hip-hop highs. Passion PitIt’s no real feat to get a gaggle of drugged-up hippies to dance. So the audience at Passion Pit’s semi-late night show (11:15-12:15) is no real indicator of how they performed. There weren’t any overt problems with the music Massachusetts band’s set – “Sleepyhead” and “The Reeling” were played both energitcally and proficiently – but there wasn’t anything special about it either. It was as if the music existed on stage, and the fans existed in the crowd, and while they interacted with each other – the crowd dancing to the music, the band vibing off the crowd – there wasn’t any real connection. Maybe it was a scheduling thing – Passion Pit played at the end of a day when thousands of people had driven hundreds of miles without sleep – but the show was more of a junior high dance when compared with the orgiastic fervor so many Bonnaroo performers are able to enact.

originally published, in slightly different form, by decider.

BONNAROO, day 1

“Millions of dollars,” the waitress said. “Literally, millions of dollars is what this thing brings in. And no one in town knows where it goes.” A tray in under her arm, she stood in the middle of the mostly empty (maybe three of the twenty tables were seated) Hometown Diner in Manchester, Tennessee, having just delivered two buck-and-a-half coffees to a table. The cops had closed down one of the entrances to town, so that the tens of thousands of potential patrons had no access to the restaurant. “I mean, probably some of it goes to the fire department and the police station and stuff like that. But I tell you what. If I’m a business owner? I’m going to the next town meeting and raising hell.”
Ten minutes later, outside the Fantasy 101 radio station in downtown Manchester, there was a minor car accident. A small, red hatchback hit a curb and its fender busted. Soon, one ambulance, one fire truck, five police cars – three unmarked – and two motorcycle officers showed up on the scene. The driver and passenger drove away unharmed. With their tie-dyed shirts and dred-locked hair, it’s safe to assume they were heading to the farm. Bonnaroo was about to begin.

Murs
The hip-hop tent was particularly congenial. All night long the artists deferred their praise back to the crowd, pleading pedestrian status. “I’m here just like you,” Murs said. “Backstage, I took a shit in a port-a-potty.” On stage, he rocked through a set of his typically introspective (self-hating, female-loving) but upbeat songs. It was one of the first concerts of the evening, and the audience a while to get going. But by the time he played “Bad Man” toward the end of his show, all the heads in the crowd were synchronized, bobbing to whatever beat his DJ chose to spin.

The Knux
An informal survey before The Knux’s show revealed that many of the people inside Bonnaroo’s The Other Tent had never heard the group’s songs before. “I’ve heard of them,” was the most common response. Nevertheless the fans jostled each other for better floor positions and friggin’ got down veritably when they played their single “Bang Bang.” And then got down veritably again when they let the beat from MGMT’s “Kids” run for a couple minutes. And then again when they played Kris Kross’ “Jump.” Brothers Krispy Kream and Rah Almillio pulled (newly converted) fans up on to the stage for a dance-a-long to “F!RE (Put It In The Air).” Given their relative anonymity, The Knux’s ability to draw the crowd into the show –indeed, onto the stage – made theirs stand out as probably the best performance of the night.

People Under The Stairs
Owing to a thunderstorm that inspired festival-goers to find whatever shelter they could, LA rappers People Under The Stairs had a capacity crowd for their show. It was an odd audience, but an adaptable one. Some relented to adhere to the hip-hop two-step, instead maintaining their more hippyish styles. One dancer’s moves were compared to a Jello mold. Still, like most, he jiggled happily through the entire set. What was nice was that PUTS added an improvisational element to their show, starting off with a freestyle, and mixing impromptu verses in throughout the night. Not quite as high-energy as The Knux or Murs, but certainly a nice comedown from the night’s hip-hop highs.


Passion Pit
It’s no real feat to get a gaggle of drugged-up hippies to dance. So the audience at Passion Pit’s semi-late night show (11:15-12:15) is no real indicator of how they performed. There weren’t any overt problems with the music Massachusetts band’s set – “Sleepyhead” and “The Reeling” were played both energitcally and proficiently – but there wasn’t anything special about it either. It was as if the music existed on stage, and the fans existed in the crowd, and while they interacted with each other – the crowd dancing to the music, the band vibing off the crowd – there wasn’t any real connection. Maybe it was a scheduling thing – Passion Pit played at the end of a day when thousands of people had driven hundreds of miles without sleep – but the show was more of a junior high dance when compared with the orgiastic fervor so many Bonnaroo performers are able to enact.
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