Slice of Rothbury

A music festival is like a conglomerate of drugs and sweat, dirt and candy. You don't have to be all of those descriptive words but you still feel like you are even if you don't. You are surrounded by so many people-some eager to talk to you because they are so high they would talk to a tree. Some eager to touch you because they think you ARE a tree. Having backstage access and being amongst the creatives definitely lends itself to a fuller experience. Sitting backstage for the Black Crowes was such a perspective I've never been privy to but Brent has been for a long time. Watching the girls in the front of the mob recite the lyrics word for word. Watching Chris Robinson spread his arms like a flying bird and dance to his music like it flows through him-it was such a site, a picture to say the least. Then sometimes you might look out and there is someone in the crowd standing perfectly still, eyes barely open, sun beating down on them, a beach ball gets tossed in their direction and hits them in the head, but they don't flinch. Or the two girls, during one of the last songs, who got atop some shoulders and bared their breasts for the band. Gotta love a hippie festival. My favorite aspect was Ani Difranco (if you couldn't tell by my Twitter updates) and I have pics to post later. I didn't feel starstruck so much as I felt *finally*! I get to see this woman do her thing live. Her entire body is her instrument. It was inspiring to watch her channel all that vigor and chatter and strong messages. By the time Bob Dylan played I found myself wandering the festival grounds alone waiting for Brent to finish filming. At this point all the surrounding stages and camping areas were pretty scarce b/c everyone was at Dylan's show. But anywhere you walked you could hear him play and it made for nice background noise while perusing and thinking. I made it back to the backstage artist area but they weren't letting anyone up on the stage for his show *not a surprise*. As I turned back around Ani was walking in front of me, trying to catch Dylan. I wanted to say *thank you* or something gratuitous, not stalkerish, but that was a moment where I realized that you can appreciate an artist but recognize that we are all doing something we love, and no one wants to have the experience ruined by reaching fame and then getting bombarded. Which ended up happening to her anyway and she had to go back to her trailer. By the time I was on the road and driving through the night I was very tired and ready to finish out the vaca lake style. So we did so and got a tan and getting back into Chi-town today took a little extra push. I'm already yearning for Magic Hat brew and a little patch of grass ;) in Rothbury 2010.