"Tennessee, Tennessee... There ain't no place I'd rather be". The famous words of Jerry Garcia always seem to resonate around summer time when I get the itch to re-visit a bit of my past and make the pilgrimage down to Manchester, TN--home of the notorious Bonnaroo music festival. With the festival circuit in the United States finally holding its own against the well-established festival scene in Europe, Bonnaroo (along with Coachella) has established itself as the place to be for underground/independent music fans all across North America. Speaking of Jerr-Bear Garcia, Bonnaroo has traditionally been viewed as the flagship festival of the now waning "jamband" scene-- notorious for tie dye, patchouli, trustfundafarians, bunk drugs and 30 minute guitar solos for as long as the eye can see. But rest assured, this year was no noodle fest (okay, maybe it was for some people, but not this guy). With a line-up highlighting a roster of acts that are traditionally considered more hipster than hippie, Bonnaroo '06 was able to carve out a unique mix of musical mash-up deep in the heart of a state that's no slouch when it comes to musical legacies (*cough* Elvis anyone?).

Thursday:

Dios (Malos)--
Thursday is traditionally the "warm-up" time for the festival, as most people are still arriving, setting up camp, and/or looking for drugs. There was only a handful of bands playing, most of whom I was unacquainted with, but my comrade in arms had a soft spot for a band called Dios (Malos) which, according to their bassist/guitarist J.P., have been referred to in the music press as the "Mexican Beach Boys". After bearing witness to their dreamy California pop, it was clear that they were both very Mexican and owed quite a debt to Brian Wilson's definitive sound. In what was truly a watermark moment for the madness sure to come our way, some hippie started climbing the side stage, naked as the day he was born. Once he got to the top (a good 40+feet in the air), he decided to start climbing his way across the top of the stage rafters, ass and balls dangling in the cool Tennessee breeze. However, as I, and everyone else saw coming, he ended up slipping and falling onto a bunch of equipment. The audience's laughs quickly turned into gasps of horror. Dios stopped mid-song for about 2 seconds, their lead singer shrugging in confusion, motioning to the rest of the band to just start up a new song. From what I heard the next day, the dude broke both of his arms.

Friday:

Devendra Banhart--
Seemingly a perfect fit for the boho-hippie masses at the 'Roo, Banhart put a big shit-eating grin on my face that didn't leave until the show was decidedly fin. Channeling the best moments of Marc Bolan and Donovan at times, Banhart, sans shirt (sigh--what a dreamboat), ripped through a few cuts from his latest outing "Cripple Crow" and visited parts of his increasingly growing catalogue of folk-blues numbers. Although I consider myself a fairly laissez Devendra fan (only recently getting into him via his latest album) I was quite impressed by him and his back-up band of traveling English blokes he brought along. The highlight of the show was prefaced by Banhart uttering to the massive swell of hipsters and hippies when, towards the end of his set, he muttered, "This is my favorite part of the show". He then asked the crowd if anyone wanted to get up on stage and perform a song of their own. A doe-eyed kid no older than 19 yrs old gleefully stepped up to the task, climbing on stage and singing a number that made reference to Saddam Hussein in what was a moment akin to Country Joe and the Fish's Woodstock performance of their politically tinged anthem "I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-To-Die". The moment couldn't have been more fitting. Banhart and band closed out their set with a song that he claimed they wrote backstage just before the show as an ode to Bonnaroo. The aptly named "White Reggae Troll" (which is likely a mockery of the Phish fan, hackeysack playing wookies he's spoken critically of before) was an epic reggae infused jam with plenty of blues licks and some random beardo playing a flute.

Bright Eyes--
Oh Connor. I gotta say, I went into this show having the lowest expectations of all due to the fact that I've always written him off. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than acquainted with his body of work, I've just never been able to relate to it. In recent years, Oberst has risen from the lower ranks of the 14-year-old screaming emo teen scene to now being compared to the likes of Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. About midway through his set I started to understand why. His backing band was chalk full of country and roots rock players, as a variety of instruments ranging from a lap steel guitar to an accordion all made a regular appearance throughout the show. Midway through the set, Oberst called out some friends: Gillian Welch, David Rawlings, Jim James (of My Morning Jacket), and Griff Rhys (of Super Furry Animals) to help him through a few numbers that were, as he claimed, completely improvised on the spot. After the crowd went nuts for the super jam, Oberst expressed his initial apprehensions about the Bonnaroo crowd. However, he quickly swallowed his words, stating that the show had been one of the best he'd ever played. I walked away more than impressed, and can now safely count myself in on the legions of Bright Eyes fans, 14-year-old girls and all.

Cat Power and the Memphis Rhythm Blues Band--
This daughter of Tennessee came packing with the Memphis Rhythm Blues Band, composed of legendary blues session players that have played with the likes of Al Green and other soul and blues legends. Chan Marshall (whose name is actually pronounced "Shawn" as I was so embarrassingly informed) is notorious for her stage fright, and is known to take her sweet time and/or cancel shows at a whim. True to form, it took her a good 15 minutes while the MRBB played a few delta tinged blues/gospel numbers to warm up the crowd (and give Chan a few more minutes to get her shit together I'm sure). But once she entered stage left, it was on. I've always been a fairly marginal Cat Power fan, always having a negative association with the legions of girls that revere her as some messianic femme-figure. But as the show rolled on, it's safe to say I was put firmly in my place, as she displayed a raw intensity and elegance that, coupled with her grace and beauty, had my jaw on the ground. The show was mostly a showcase for her recent outing, "The Greatest", but seeing as though I didn't really know which songs were new or old, I had to rely on my friend to make the necessary distinctions. Chan came back for several encores, including a few solo numbers, some covers ("House of the Rising Sun" and "I've Been Loving You Too Long"), and even a few accapellas. She was highly interactive with the crowd as her nervousness quickly dissipated, and once she was in the zone she didn't want to leave. Chan played a staggering 2 1/2 hr set-- a tried and true feat for any accomplished musician, especially one with such horrible stage fright.

Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers--
The first headlining act at the main stage. Because these guys are such pros at their shit (going 30 years strong, as Petty informed us several times throughout the night), the show was pretty much tantamount to listening to classic rock radio, but they did manage turn the jam up just a bit. Stevie Nicks came out for a handful of songs and everyone went fucking wild. I remember hearing their early 80's hit, "Stop Draggin' my Heart Around", but after that it was really just a boozy haze. I fell asleep halfway through his set then left a few minutes later to drink free booze backstage and play Xbox in the artist hospitality tent after waking up in a daze.

Common--
Common is classic, but his 2 A.M. set was far from that. It was mostly joints from his latest, Kanye-heavy, album "Be". As was the theme with all hip-hoppers at this traditionally jam-centric fest, Common had a back-up band to help him through his numbers. However, the most memorable moments were his DJ's turntablist, body trick, juggle heavy set, a skit where he answered a mock three way phone call between him, Mos Def, and Talib Kweli (preceding a pair of songs that he did with both of them), and when he got some broad up on stage from the audience to serenade with a few of his slow jam-infused, shitty-ass songs. Overall, it was a super energetic set with loads of highlights for a half assed showing from me at 2:00 in the morning.

Saturday:

Because the sun rose at about anus in the morning, we were roasting in the tent at 7:00 am--we had no choice but to wake up. Following a nice bacon, egg and hash brown camp-stove breakfast, we took a "shower" in the local communal sink then headed into "Centeroo" to hit up some shows:

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah--
I've been living in denial about this band for quite some time (largely due to the absurd nature of their name) but their album is undeniably catchy and fun, and from what I saw of their show, it was about the same. It's too bad they still have a shitty name.

Elvis Costello and The Imposters --
We set up camp at the main stage about mid-way through this legend's set in order to secure a good place for Beck and Radiohead. Interestingly enough, Costello, who's a self proclaimed jazz fetishist (he's married to Canada's own Diana Krall after all), had in accompaniment with him one Allen Toussaint, a well-established jazz pianist who's a regular character around New Orleans. Toussaint, with his backing band of brass toting troubadours, added a hint of juke-joint blues to Costello's catalogue and tickled the keys in a way that only a son of N'Awlins could, giving Costello classics like "Pump It Up" and "Alison" a distinct Creole flavor that had the audience shuckin' and jivin' like there was no tomorrow. Like a fine wine, Costello has truly aged to perfection, and his tribute to the rich musical legacy of the south was a clear indication.

Beck--
All I can say about this show is that Beck did what he does best: act like an ironic asshole. Too bad being a scientologist pretty much negates everything he used to stand for (and probably still does in his mind). The show was full of loads of gimmickry: a puppet show (that mimicked the band on the big screens and was the star of several entertaining skits), breakdancing bears, and a dinner-break spoon and fork jam. Nonetheless, Beck still managed to pull out the big guns and put a grin across everyone's face. Other highlights included a bunch of uber-gay rainbow gimp dudes launching water balloons 60 mph at random people's heads in the crowd, and a bunch of sketchy dudes setting up a nitrous oxide tank right beside us.

Radiohead--
Although Radiohead has been far from being my favorite band for quite some years now, I still regard their live show (New Orleans--October 2004 for me) as being the best I've ever seen. Taking this into account, being able to experience their live show again was more than enough motivation for me to fork over $200 bucks for a Bonnaroo ticket. My anticipation for Radiohead (the second headliners of the weekend) had been climaxing for some time now, and despite the amazing shows I was a witness to on Friday, I couldn't help but think about how seeing Radiohead in all of their splendor would validate the festival experience for me more than any other act. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Radiohead wasn't entirely to blame for this shortcoming of expectations, as I prefaced the show by popping a tab of E that turned out to be nothing more than a sugar pill (damn you hippies!). The first time I saw Radiohead, I was zonked on mushrooms and it enhanced the experience beyond belief, so I figured that having a little party favor lubricant to ease myself into the situation once again would prove to be a good idea. About an hour into their set (which was marked primarily by songs from Hail To The Thief and their upcoming album) I realized that I had been "had" by the hippie mafia, but I remained optimistic. What better way to seek out a natural "high" than be in the audience at a Radiohead show? However, seeing as though the concert field was about 10 fucking miles by 10 fucking miles large, I wasn't in any particularly good position to see the band, and the screens that should have served as my visual aid flickered on and off throughout the show. Therefore, I was really only privy to a greatest hits compilation of Radiohead songs from about a mile away because I couldn't see shit. At that moment it occurred to me that without seeing Thom Yorke dance around like an epileptic retard and without seeing the rest of the band twiddle their knobs, stomp their pedals, and do all that other shit they do to make those multi-dimensional sound-scapes, Radiohead are pretty darn boring. However, the show was still amazing by any measure, and hearing "Idioteque" and a handful of their new material was enough to salvage the experience for me. Overall, still pretty anti-climactic.

Sunday:

The day started off the same as Saturday: I woke up at ass in the morning roasting in the hot Tennessee sun. After an encore of Saturday's breakfast, me and my mate hit the backstage area with the intent of scoring as much free swag as possible. In the midst of doing such, I happened to wander across the press tent as a few of the festival's characters, including Mike Skinner (The Streets), Steve Earle, Phil Lesh (of the Grateful Dead), some jamband dude, and the Hasidic, reggae-rapping wunderkind Matisyahu were hosting a press-conference. Despite having to suffer throughsuch pressing questions as: "What is your favorite flavor of ice cream" and for the 20th goddamn time, "What do you think about the diversity of music festivals like Bonnaroo?", veteran rockers Steve Earle and Phil Lesh dropped some knowledge on our heads that only wise guys like them could.

The Streets--
Only caught about 2 songs, but he had a back up band (continuing the theme) and some R&B crooning hype man. From what I saw, he was a good showman and hyped the crowd up well. Despite the fact he's a joke as a rapper, he was a nice and personable guy. I chatted briefly with him backstage as he sat on a golf cart while Atmosphere went on. Sweating intensely from the heat with no shirt on, post-show, he remarked to me "Hot as fuck, innit?". He then raced away on the aforementioned golf cart as some girl drove him back to the artist VIP area. Well put, Skinner.

Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks--
I gleefully skipped across Centeroo to catch the legendary Pavement front-man (wife in tow) in action. I'm really only familiar with his material with Pavement so the show was more of Malkmus awe fest for me. Highlights include me standing directly behind Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon while they watched the show.

Atmosphere--
I was lucky enough to meet Slug backstage a few hours prior to his show. What a nice guy. I felt guilty after meeting him because I've written him off as just another backpacker for the past few years (there's a lot of them after all). But Slug is a good rapper and I would be lying if I didn't admit to enjoying a lot of his material. The Bonnaroo hippies seemed to be very responsive to his show, as I witnessed people with their hands up in the air for miles. However, I only stuck around for a minute because I was intent on catching every minute of Sonic Youth.

Sonic Youth--
I secretly hoped that Kim Gordon noticed my shirtless person standing next to her during Malkmus' set and she would dedicate the show to my sexiness. Seeing as though she's happily married to Thurston Moore, my wishes were wholly in vain. Nevertheless, Sonic Youth rocked the fuck out. It's hard to believe that they're all in their 40's. Thurston still threw his guitar around like a toy, rubbing its strings against the speaker in an attempt to evoke some noisy symphony of chaos, post-song. As with most of the Bonnaroo artists, the show was packed with songs from their latest outing. Unfortunately, their latest album sounds a lot like the one that preceded it(which reeks of washed-upness) so it was a bit of a disappointment in that regard. Anyways, I was too distracted by Stephen Malkmus (who was watching the show) so I decided to chat him up and grab a photo-op with him. He was more than gracious, and he eventually joined Sonic Youth on stage for a handful of songs. The Youth closed the set with some instrumental noise number that blew my fuckin' mind and was satiating enough to send me on my way home without seeing Phil Lesh & Friends play their half-assed Grateful Dead covers.

Funnily enough, my main motivation to attend Bonnaroo this year was to re-live the magic that is Radiohead live and in person-- but the experience certainly didn't approach anywhere near my expectations. The real joy experienced during that sun-scorched weekend in Tennessee was channeled through the intimate performances of acts like Bright Eyes and Cat Power, both of which delivered epic, yet stirring sets that one can only truly "get" when they've personally dealt with the themes of heartache and lost love that are so prevalent in their songwriting. In that regard, I truly consider myself lucky to have been witness to the vulnerable and self-less performances that both Oberst and Marshall are renowned for as artists.

All said and done, I had the time of my life and I can only hope that I'm privileged enough to experience another music festival of such magnitude from the position that I did. Although it's easy to overlook, there's much to be learned from such festivals as Bonnaroo. For one, they encourage and foster the human spirit in its very rudimentary; as for 4 days, 80,000+ people are forced into a makeshift city in which communal living and patience are everyday virtues. In that respect, one can learn a lot about what the word "trust" truly means, whether that applies to oneself, a friend, or a neighbor. I certainly learned a lesson or two from this year's Bonnaroo: hippies might suck but they sure do know how to have a good time.

To see more pictures and see what bands I chose not to watch, check out the official Bonnaroo website.