To The Last:

A Brief Afterword

Volume XVII of

Eighty Thousand’s Company: The Modern Music Festival and the Pursuit of Community, Freedom, and Reverence in Personal and Collective Celebration

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For the first nine years I went to Bonnaroo, I was there solely for fun.

In 2015 & 2016, however, I was given the opportunity to work the event professionally as a journalist. I had access to an entirely different side of Bonnaroo that I never thought I would have the chance to see. The first time I stepped into the backstage press area, I felt like a new man, much like the first time I stepped onto the grounds more than ten years ago. Part of me felt like I had graduated, like a squirrely camper moving up to the position of head counselor, as odd as that may sound.

When I first went to Bonnaroo over ten years ago, I had no idea I wanted to be a writer, let alone one who focused on writing about music. My musical scope was rather limited back then, as I was predominantly listening to classic rock and a handful of contemporary artists. With only a few concert experiences under my belt at that point, Bonnaroo was my awakening. Never before had I been exposed to so many acts, and on such a grand scale. It inspired me to broaden my horizons, both musically and culturally. It set me on the path that I am on today.

Live music is a treasure, and thankfully these days it’s not a hard one to unearth. Since my first year at Bonnaroo I have attended hundreds of concerts, seen hundreds of artists, and have enjoyed music festivals all over the country and abroad. I decided somewhere along the way while I was an undergrad that I wanted to write about music. I wanted to write about its history, its inherent language, its inescapable connection with humanity. I wanted to write about how music has touched my life, and how it continues to touch the lives of others.

It’s not always easy, it’s often frustrating, but it’s consistently rewarding. Just knowing that there might be one person out there that I helped find a band they love, or that I inspired to go check out a current touring...that’s what keeps me going. I hate music critics that thrive on negativity, and so I’ve opted to never write a negative review. There’s a difference between being critical and being negative; being critical means discussing strengths and analyzing artistic choices and processes, being negative is just about being mean.

So back in 2015 when I got the email saying that I would be able to go to Bonnaroo on the festival’s dime to photograph the artists and write about my experiences, I was floored. Being in the photo pit—within spitting distance of my favorite artists and bands—was like a waking dream; I was waiting to wake up in my bed in Oakland only to find that it had all been in my head. But it wasn’t. I was there, at one of my favorite places in the entire world, and it was up to me to document what it means to experience Bonnaroo.

I had worked large festivals in the past, but this was different. I felt like I was a hero returning home, being awarded the Key to the City. I felt a strange sense of pride, because in many ways Bonnaroo has always been a sort of home to me. I wanted to do right by Bonnaroo, because it had done right by me, on so many occasions. Sometimes she has been a cruel mistress, but more often than not, Bonnaroo has taken care of me. Bonnaroo has inspired me to listen, to communicate, and to be a part of something truly remarkable.