As a concertgoer with mild social phobias, the idea of an outdoor music festival never really appealed to me.
Why would I want to spend all day in the hot sun, surrounded by inebriated people for 10 hours, when only two or three bands out of the lineup actually appeal to me? What if it rains? Should I bring a blanket? Do I really want to carry around a blanket all day when I’m going to end up setting it down and losing it and laying in the grass anyways? Am I prepared to smell like stale beer after one too many drunken flannel clad hipster runs into me and douses me in Budweiser? How am I going to handle the unspeakable horrors of humankind known only to the devil of the blue plastic port-o-potty?
Instead, I could spend 2 hours or so completely immersed in the set of a band I loved (plus an opener or two) at a small venue with a slightly more respected set of social codes and, most importantly, indoor plumbing. After attending two music festivals a month apart (Jay-Z’s Made in America and Virgin Mobile Free Fest), I can tell you that I was absolutely, unequivocally, wrong. Aside from being a hell of a lot cheaper than lining up individual concerts during the season, outdoor music festivals are absolutely worth the wicked sunburn.
Music festivals provide a certain insurance of concert quality. Let’s say you shell out 40 dollars (or usually more), to see a band only to find out that without that studio magic, they sound like The Black Eyed Peas at the Super Bowl. Even worse, you could’ve spent that time and money getting hammered. But you’re trapped by your pride and moral obligation to your now much lighter wallet to pretend like it was worth it. At an all day festival with multiple stages, you spend a little more at the door (unless, of course, you’re at Free Fest), but then if a band sucks, you can just walk over to the next stage and maybe even pick up a beer on the way over. Or, if all else fails, just wait 30 minutes for the next set of bands.
Similarly, a great live set can change your attitudes about a band that sounds only mediocre on studio recordings. For example, I had only a foot-tapping appreciation for Miike Snow whenever I happened to catch them on the radio. When I saw them at Made in America, that all changed. They went on stage around six in the evening, long past the point where you get picky about what bands you want to watch. There was a moment in the middle of “Plastic Jungle” when I had stopped focusing on whether or not I was dancing on beat and let the music wash over me. The sea of American flag t-shirt wearing and cheap plastic wayfarer adorned frat boys around me seemed to be all jamming out together as one collective unit, and I was a part of it.
Despite the 11 dollar beers and other outrageous prices on basic survival needs (here’s looking at you, 8 dollar hot dog), outdoor music festivals are absolutely more economical and much better experience than a stand alone concert.
