- I truly cannot say how much better these festivals are when you’re not there. Bonnaroo was wonderful, and this weekend in Virginia was great, too, especially for those of us not in Virginia. As you may remember, I also didn’t attend several Dead & Company shows this summer, and enjoyed all of them, as well.
- This is how it will be from now on. This is no longer the future: within one or two years, the stream will include not just the main stage feed, but also personal views from concertgoers with cameras strapped to them; it will all be HD. The limit to the amount of bullshit we can squeeze into the innertubes at one time hasn’t even been approached. Couch Tour is here to stay, Enthusiasts, which means it will be monetized. Backstage cameras with genially multi-ethnic hosts interviewing–exclusively!–the musicians and celebrities, all brought to you with help from the nice folks at Red Bull.
- It’s all bullshit, man.
- Chris Robinson paid tribute to the true spirit of the Dead by forgetting all the words to Dead songs.
- The standards and the flags and the goofy shit on sticks need to stop: they are visual vuvuzelas, and they inspire hatred in the right-thinking.
Okay, I’m leaving the numbered bullets to talk about how wrong those suckers are.
You keep doing this tonight.
I’m full of beans!
I hate you.
First of all, that is European bullshit, specifically British, specifically Glastonbury: those muddy albinos still think they’re Richard the Lion-Hearted charging into battle, and they love waving those eye-gougers around for hours at a time. And it’s a dramatic look when there are dozens of them, but when there’s just one massive American flag and a few stuffed animals on sticks, it just looks damp and uninviting, like a half-full nightclub.
Also: why the fuck are we imitating the British at this particular moment? They do not have their shit together right now, and we’re copying their every dance move. We start to accept soccer, then comes the flags at concerts, and finally we completely fuck ourselves in an election. Sad!
Second: that one American flag must have been thirty feet tall, and as my mind was permanently warped by cartoon physics at an early age, I was rooting for the pole to start WHOMPing back and forth, clearing out huge swathes of festivalgoers, I also know that in real life that would kill people.
Third: some beautiful jackass had a stuffed Harambe on the end of a stick, and everything about 2016 is a nightmare I can’t stop laughing at.
Do you realize you’ve gone back into numbered points, but you’re just spelling them out now?
Huh. How about that?
Anyway: someone could easily use one of those poles to vault up on stage and eat a musician, possibly a Turkuaz.
Also: Susan Tedeschi is gnarly, but Susan Trucks needs to change his hair; all of the Hard-Working Americans need to be bathed; My Morning Jacket is now my favorite band of all time and always has been.