Well, well, well: Three days, four nights, and more burgers and dogs than I can count later, my adventures in the wonderland that is the American South have finally come to a close. Why don’t you read on for all the juicy details of Saturday and Sunday of Bonnaroo 2009?


Saturday got off to quite a slow start, as a pretty nasty cough made it’s rounds all around camp, confining everyone to their humid tents for a few extra hours before allowing them the strength to embrace the pollen soaked air awaiting them outside. I made it to the press tent just in time to catch Jimmy Buffet talk with Margret Cho for five minutes about how gosh-darn green the festival is this year (a very good point, off course, with a Green Squad roaming the whole compound round the clock) before I had to split to catch a bit of the Tony Rice unit over at The Other Tent.

Following over at This Tent, Of Montreal raised some psychedelic hell for a solid hour, definitely making a fan out of yours truly, but leaving me with so little energy that I slept through the bulk of David Grisman’s set. No bother, because I woke up watching the Decemberists, who rocked much harder and louder than I would have expected. You win this round, Colin Meloy!

Somewhere amidst the ruckus, I had a moment to meet one of my favorite performers of the year, Greg Gillis, aka Girl Talk, who said he remembers PRB for playing, “all that great punk rock back in the 80′s.” Boss.

The blunders of the afternoon were rendered insignificant, however, in the face of Saturday’s headliner, Bruce Springsteen. The Boss played for three whole hours without taking a break, and killin’ it the entire time no less. I’m not even a fan, but that man knows how to get a crowd riled up like it’s nobody’s business: while I could not comprehend exactly what he meant during the ten minutes he took to talk about building, “a house of love on rock ‘n roll and filling it with faith and then more love,” (or something along those lines), I jumped and screamed like I’d been down since day one, and enjoyed every moment of it.

Sunday most definitely took the cake as the most representative and enjoyable day of the festival. We packed up our camp, toured Shakedown Street for a while (picking up some amazing chicken on a stick, btw) and spent the rest of the day plopped on the lawn. Everything was down-tempo on Sunday, from the surprisingly dynamic psych-folk stylings of Andrew Bird, through the sweet and subdued Band of Horses on the same stage, right up to the OG himself, Snoop Dogg.

But once again, in the opinion of this DJ, the headline took the cake. I don’t really listen to Phish, and I’m not too huge on light shows either, but the vibe at their Sunday night performance, from the stage all the way to the back fence, was so unbelievably warm, welcome, and radiant that it was impossible not to just give up and get down. I’ve never seen so many glowing objects in the sum of my entire life, let along all in one place. And just when you thought you couldn’t chill harder, the Boss himself joined the band on the What stage to kick out a cover of Mack Rice’s Mustang Sally and the best version of Glory Days that most of us will ever hear. Needless to say, the crowd went wild.

And with that we were off, for another fifteen fun-filled hours on the road, basking in the shadow of one helluva festival. Mad respect to Music Allies for putting together a sweet press tent as well as a great radio program to listen to on the way down, Crazy Pete for having my back the whole time, and all the artists and attendees that made this one for the books.

See y’all next year!

Good afternoon Radioland! Lance Loud here, comin’ at’cha will a whole new Bonna-recap for the second day of tunes. Running on four hours of “sleep,” a few cases of water, and a half a bottle of ibuprofen, we braved the heat (what’s up with this weather?) for the first full day of the Roo.


New York City was holding court all day with killer performances from seasoned veterans and the new school alike. TV On the Radio and the Yeahs Yeah Yeahs threw down some serious rock in the mid afternoon, but the highlights of the day did not rear their heads until after dark. While the headliner of the night was Phish, an experience that I’m saving till their second performance on Sunday night, the Beastie Boys brought all the serious noise.

Rockin’ everything from their hardcore to lounge tunes live, the B-Boys were only half the fun of the set, as the stage was bulging with celebrity from Mix Master Mike on the turntables, Mr. Money Mark on the keyboards, and a mind-blowingly awesome cameo by NYC hip-hop legend, Nas.

After a short rest back at camp, we made it back out the stages for one hell of a party, rolling from the tale end of Phoenix’s set back into some more bangin’ NY tunes a few yards over with Public Enemy. I don’t remember Flava Flav rapping too much, but I do remember that he mentioned yet another VH1 reality-series that he’ll be ringleading this summer, so tune in.

The night rounded itself out with ninety minutes of bounce from bastard-pop wizard, Girl Talk, and a set from trance master Paul Oakenfold that stretched three hours overtime, past the sunrise. Good thing there’s only two days left here, or else I think my feet would never forgive me for what I’m putting them through at this festival.

Stay tuned for more…

Greetings from Manchester, WPRB peeps! As many of you already know, I’ve made the journey down here to the great state of Tennessee for four days of music, mayhem, and mud at the Bonnaroo Music Festival! While there weren’t too many tunes last night, I think we kicked off the weekend with a good start.

The drive was a trek-and-a-half, spanning a thousand miles over the course of 18 hours. For the most part, the sailing was smooth, except for a few hours stretch in Virgina when we started to see the police pulling over what appeared to be any and every van with camping gear on the roof and tri-state tags.

We arrived around 8 AM Central Time, set up camp by 10, and had a solid seven hours to steep in the agonizing excitement of the festival to be, most of which was spent barbecuing, exploring, and getting to know a small fraction of the hundreds of thousands of like-minded individuals that we were to spend that next few days practically on top of. One of our neighbors gave me a pretty rockin’ haircut. That’s the second time I’ve gotten a trim at a festival, and I think I may have to make a habit out of it.

The music started around 6PM, and went just up to the wee hours of the next morning. Getting around Centeroo, the non-camp hub for all the music, food, fun and festivities, was not easy, as the alternative stages are aptly named, “This Stage,” “That Stage,” and “The Other Stage.” I may have spent more time confused on the phone than I did actually getting down and the music. While I was initially very disappointed to hear that the Delta Spirit was playing a shortened set due to scheduling problems I was pleasantly surprised by the moody experimentalism of the White Rabbits in their place two stages over.

Murs killed it, and by the time The Knux had wrapped up their West Coast hip-hop, the whole Roo was ready to dance all night, which is exactly what we did during my personal favorite performance of the evening, Boston-disco-rock-awesomeness, Passion Pit. And how are you supposed to cap off a night of toe-tapping and hip shaking such as this? By giving Delta Spirit another minutes to rock out just before we all crashed and burned and walked a mile and a half barefoot in the pouring rain back to sleep in the back seat of our cars.It was a great night.

Keep checking this space for uploads of all kinds of cool pics when I can get my hands on some serious wi-fi.