Teal is multi-colored and we're watching the Cold War Kids when we lose Kelsey. We search the area, Teal rubbing off on people we bump into the whole time, but we cannot find Kelsey anywhere. We return to the tent--still no Kelsey. Our concern is only mitigated by the aforementioned combination of triscuits and easy cheese. I add some of my beef jerky and make little sandwiches. This is the closest I will get to a real meal until Sunday. Eventually, Kelsey returns from wherever she was. We loaf around and miss Brazilian Girls, which is sort of a bummer, but it's hot out and the day has been long in spite of it barely being half-over.
We resume our concert-going in the late afternoon as the Kings of Leon (or is it just a the-less Kings of Leon?) deflower the What Stage (Bonnaroo's main stage). They play a pretty badass set, which is to say that I am converted to the Kings of Leon cause. I make a mental note to buy or steal one or both of their albums at a later time. The set is slightly disrupted when the sound system cuts out mid-song. The band keeps playing, seemingly unaware that the only thing the audience can hear is the distant jangle of guitar amps. The band storms off stage after the song, the singer looking angrier than a fair portion of angry people I've seen in the past (granted, he's a pretty angry looking person to begin with). Regardless, the sound system is promptly fixed and the set continues unscathed.
The set ends early so we return to That Tent, where the Nightwatchman is playing. The Nightwatchman is better known by his real name: Tom Morello, lead guitarist of Rage Against the Machine and legitimate guitar god. Still, here he is, carrying an acoustic guitar and referring to himself in third person as The Nightwatchman. Think, "The Nightwatchman appreciates your applause!" Basically, Tom Morello has adopted a new activist shtick, less Public Enemy meets The Clash and more, well pretty much entirely, Woody Guthrie. He even covers "This Land Is Your Land", giving a speech about the verses that were removed because they were too controversial and adding them back to the song. He also plays one song twice, apparently for a new Michael Moore documentary. During the whole set I find myself really wanting to be that jaded New Yorker who gets annoyed by overly political music but can't help but kind of like it. Music CAN change the world!
Bonnaroo is slowly turning me into a hippie.
We stop by Lily Allen for a little bit. Her music is fun but seems an odd fit for Bonnaroo. Tool will be playing later, so I guess I can't really make a claim like that. Still a drunken British pop starlet is a bit of a strange sight. She's only a quick stop, though, on our path to Manu Chao. As far as I can tell, Manu Chao has only two songs, which they repeat over and over again with very subtle variations. Understand that when I say this, I'm not putting them in that category of bands whose songs all sound very similar. I mean, they literally only play two songs. It would be remiss not to point out that the two songs are AWESOME, but it's still absurd.
Kelsey misses the show because she wants to see David Cross perform stand-up, but she can't even get into the tent to see him. We feel bad for her, but not that bad, seeing as we've just come from a Manu Chao show. Slacking, drinking, and snacking ensue. Tool begins playing; we can hear it from our campsite. I urge the gang to go, because from what I understand Tool is a fantastic live show, but we still miss about half of their concert before we finally make it to What stage. A picture of Tool (even a blurry one) says it all:
They have lasers. Fucking lasers. And videos of dancing zombies. And Rock. SWOON. I mentally add them to that list with Kings of Leon.
Following the Tool show, we make a stop in the silent disco, which is much cooler than I'd originally thought.
There's a DJ spinning dance music, only rather than coming out of amps it's being beamed out a ton of wireless headsets. So from the outside, the disco is utterly silent, but if you're inside with the headphones on you can rock out at whatever volume you want. The really nifty part is when you take off your headset while the DJ is spinning a song that everyone knows, like "Jump On It". All of a sudden, everyone is dancing in unison to nonexistent music, muttering, "jump on it!" intermittently. The other interesting aspect of the silent disco is the way people shout to be heard over the music. If you're wearing headphones it makes sense, but take the headphones off and it's just people shouting for no reason. The novelty of the silent disco wears off quickly, though it's still a fun dance party with a killer DJ.
The Silent Disco is just a distraction, though, before the El-P show starts. I'd heard the name, but I had no idea what El-P was all about. It turns out El-P is a chubby white rapper with a military-themed band and political lyrics. He's kind of awesome. It's his DJ's birthday so he gives him the opportunity to do a solo song. I'm starting to remember how much I really like hip-hop. The hippiedom almost begins to wear off.
Teal and Kelsey head off to String Cheese Incident, but Stef (a friend of theirs from home, who has been working at Bonnaroo) and I stick around because DJ Shadow is following El-P and he's pretty much the man. It's the last show of his tour, and it does not disappoint. I'd rumors that he'd gone soft or turned toward indie rock and forsaken his hip-hop stylings. The rumors were false. His beats are tight and his visuals are killer. I add DJ Shadow to my list.
Shadow runs overtime and nobody minds. As the show nears its conclusion, I think to myself how well the sound systems have been set-up all day, loud and clear but never deafening. As if to spite me, DJ Shadow really cranks it up for the finale, so that when the show finally ends, well after three thirty in the morning, we stagger back to our tents unable to hear a word. We're all saying the same thing anyway: Holy shit.
And it's still only Friday.
