It was 6 a.m. when my head finally hit the pillow this morning, after an epic day in the Bonnaroo fields that started with a standup comedian in exile, peaked with the Tennessee homecoming of a suddenly-giant rock band, and ended with a New York City dance act in mourning. After fourteen straight hours of music, my ears were ringing, my blisters were burning, and my back had taken a brief sabbatical from operating in a fully upright and locked position. It was difficult to remember which foot to place forward first. I may or may not have briefly wept sometime around 3:45 a.m. It’s hard to remember that long ago.
But there’s no rest for the weary at America’s most endurance-based music festival. Bonnaroo demands, and almost always deserves, a herculean effort. To stand inside those walls, surrounded by light and sound and flesh, is to experience a peculiar pull to cover every inch of its currently-muddy soil and consume whatever it cares to offer. I promise I will not write this whole blog post like some sort of epic poem, but seriously, Mixers, yesterday was long.
After the jump, we begin with a little Conan O’Brien, then party with the Gossip, harmonize with Dr. Dog, meet cute with She & Him, raise a glass to the National, raise a sausage to Tenacious D, meditate with Tori Amos, sit at the feet of Steve Martin while he plays the banjo, check out new songs from Kings of Leon, almost get killed in the Flaming Lips photo pit, bliss out to the Black Keys, and finally, finally put the night to rest alongside LCD Soundsystem. Won’t you come along? READ FULL STORY