In the drastically depleting realm of Music Festival existence, there are pillars that stand in place to assert their rightful thrones. Unsurpassable efforts of consistency, expansive ingenuity, and all-around originality have granted them the feasibility to maintain these posts of recognition. A staple of these identities, one that comes to mind almost subconsciously, has to be Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival. This having been my eighth voyage to The Farm, I will unveil what effortlessly keeps me coming back year after year:
As you approach the nearly 700 acres of terra firma, it’s hysterical to unknowingly picture what is to come. (To those that arrive before Wednesday night, I salute your dedication.) When our crew of veterans and newcomers arrived on the scene, we were positively overwhelmed by the musical metropolis that had come to fruition at the hands of our temporary neighbors.
Once settled into our designated territory, we collectively ventured onward to Outeroo. Names like: Galactic Giddy-Up, House of Yes, and Where In The Woods cemented themselves as the premier watering holes. For those unfamiliar, this sector of the grounds is completely separate to Centeroo. (I make the frequent argument that Outeroo and Centeroo could exist independently from each other and still be irrefutably successful.) Alas, their coexistence brings forth the epitome of sprawling diversity. Our final nightcap, in all senses, was served by Chase & Status. The undisputed powerhouses of drum and bass, this set flawlessly delivered. While typically billed as two artists, Will’s independent energy was beyond expectations and ultimately satisfying.
Photo By Mr. Jeaux
Upon Thursday’s arrival, the true commencement of this year’s installment was finally underway. There is a comedic paradox that lies completely within the blueprint of Bonnaroo: Which Stage, What Stage, This Tent, That Tent, and The Other Stage will act as your guides, but you never really know which direction you’re going in. (If you’re lost, stay with me!) And yet, that complete absence of awareness is what leads to the most unexpected thrills! Even as you begin making sense of your whereabouts, you find yourself immersed in surrounding activations and amenities. From Mushroom Fountain to House of Matroomony (RIP Snake and Jake’s Christmas Barn) to Liquid Death Country Club, the sightseeing never ceased to amaze me.
Allow me to emphatically emphasize this: it is an impossibility to be at the wrong place. (Disclaimer: If you missed Parcels or Khruangbin, only then would the possibilities of being at the wrong place have existed.) What I mean is this – with 21 straight hours of scheduled activities, finding something new/different/exciting/frightening to consume your time is an inadvertent obligation. Did I think I would ever interview GWAR? Absolutely not. Did we think we would ever see a live parrot during Pretty Lights’ sunrise set? In the jungle, MAYBE… Did I think I would run a 5K on minimal sleep and more Montucky in me than water? Even as a runner, that wasn’t planned whatsoever. Were we prepared for Post Malone to bring out Billy Strings, the greatest motherf***in’ guitarist on the planet? Not in the slightest.
Now, listen… I could sit here and write ad infinitum about the dazzling performances put on by this strategically curated lineup. I could tell you in exact detail about the sensations felt witnessing these coveted moments. There are those that I will pinpoint, ones that monumentally stood out to me, but know that my coverage is an exclusive reflection of my tastes. (No ears were harmed in the arrangement of these selections.) Instead of daily breakdowns, I’ll scramble my opinions into these final moments. (Besides, you should be looking at buying your ticket for 2025 by now!)
*These descriptions are written verbatim in my Bonnaroo journal and will now live here.* Physically writing during a concert isn’t a recommended commitment, but here is what unfolded:
Eggy: Playful, peaceful, completely pleasant. Slow build that beautifully brought the whole performance together. Goose/Phish-esque
Say She She: Electric! Absolutely brilliant. A culmination of musical genuine. Insanely talented
The Heavy Heavy: POWERFUL. INSANE Ability. Mamas & Papas vibes. Aptly named and then some.
Pretty Lights: THE KING IS BACK. A mastermind of his craft. Beyond expectations.
Very Gently: Soulful, whimsical. Complete state of tranquility. Immediately drawn by the voices. Random Discovery that made Friday an incredible start. Managed a flawless performance on a tiny space
The Japanese House: Blissful, settling. Every bit of gentle (such a unique style). So fun!
Photo By Mr. Jeaux
LYNY: BOOM! Heavy. Started the party early. Maintaining Chicago’s status.
MIKE.: Proper hip-hop. Epitome of crowd pleaser. Hunter from New Zealand performing “Life Got Crazy” might have been the fan focused highlight of the weekend. We stumbled upon him in the crowd later in the evening. He brought us into his NZ Roo Croo with open arms. THIS is what ROO is about. Arrive as strangers, leave as mates.
Gary Clark, Jr.: An unparalleled talent. Wicked guitar skill. True joy to witness. Guitar shredder
Grouplove: Draws a crowd like no other. Captivating. As musically talented as they are engaging. Nonstop blast.
Khruangbin: Psychedelic Gods. Pinnacle of talent. Blessed to be a part of their world. So much power.
Post Malone: A dominating performance. Billy Strings guest during “Stay”. Unreal production. That fireworks show deserves its own stage.
Maggie Rogers: Electric movement that you could feel. Taking photos from the pit allowed for the energy to be transferred through me. I can still feel her on that stage. Elegant in all aspects. Never missed a beat. Seamlessly put her entire character into her display.
Mind you, this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of everything I witnessed and everything The Farm provided. (If you want to fully hear about Hunter’s experience and Maggie’s concert, follow along through Stefan’s pictorial journey.) There will be plenty of time to continue telling these tales, but they’ll be better delivered with some cold snacks in hand. Banana Bread, dude? Hell Yeah. For now, I leave you with this rendition of 2024’s coverage. Until we meet again…
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