Tag Archives: mile high music festival

everyone deserves music. and ice water.

As Kathleen mentioned, we are very sorry for being so delinquent the past few days. It may not seem like it, but blogging is stressful! Sometimes you just don’t want to blog, but then your millions of fans (or your sister) are all “Heeey why no blogging the past few days?? I’m angry! Write more!”

The reason for my lack of blogging is that I had a visitor this past weekend and was out actually living my life. Exciting, right? (I was extremely proud of myself for not looking at the blog for a full three days…normally I can’t last three minutes). My friend Katie was visiting from Maine, so we were running around doing lots of fun things. Most notably, we attended the Mile High Music Festival, which was absolutely amazing but also absolutely exhausting. Sitting out for hours in 95 degree heat is not exactly relaxing.

The first day of the concert, Kelsey, my sister Maddy, Katie, and I came — we thought — well-prepared, with snacks, flasks hidden under our dresses, and plenty of water. We didn’t consider the fact that water warms up pretty quickly when it has no ice in it, and so by about 2:00 p.m., our water was a few degrees away from boiling. From 3:00 to 4:00, I actually thought I might die. I was sort of limping from stage to stage, clutching my throat, and begging every beer man I saw for some of the ice that was keeping the beers cold. (“Please sir! Can I have some ice?!”)

Though my martyrdom was reaching epic proportions, I was aware that I wasn’t the only one at the concert who was dying of heat. It was very entertaining to see people fighting for the tiniest amounts of shade in the strangest of places: under a large pole, behind a row of porta-potties, beside a trash can, etc. People were getting desperate, man.

Luckily, things cooled off by about 5:00, and then everyone stepped away from the porta-potties, regained their senses, and focused on the music. It was about this time that we were upgraded to VIP tickets, which means we got free beer and wine, free food, a nice cool tent to sit in, and shuttle rides from stage to stage. Baaaaaller. Then we got to see Spoon, which got us all going (read: dancing like crazy, unashamed hippies). It was Michael Franti and Spearhead, however, that made the weekend for me.

Now, I’m not a huge Michael Franti fan. It’s not that I don’t like him; I just don’t know a lot of his stuff. But Katie, being the best fake hippie among us, wanted us all to go, and we obliged. His show was awesome. He had that intangible thing that only a few artists have that makes a concert truly kickass, whether or not you know the music. He had everyone in the crowd dancing like maniacs, and he was clearly having a great time, which makes a huge difference. After his performance, we were all blissfully happy and more or less remained that way for the rest of the weekend.

I won’t go through every single performance we saw over the course of the weekend (that could take a while), but let’s talk about John Mayer for a second.

The entire festival was extremely well-organized, and as part of that, all of the artists were very punctual. They started and ended exactly when they were supposed to, every time. So we’re all lounging around waiting for John Mayer to come on at 6:00 on Sunday, and at 5:30 people start cheering. We stand up and see that some dude has taken the stage and has begun to sing “Start Me Up.” We were confused. Our conversation went a little something like this:

“Wait, that can’t be John Mayer.”

“Yeah, why would he start so early?”

“And why would he be wearing a tank top?”

“And why would he open with a cover?”

“And since when is his entire left arm tattooed?”

“It must just be some random filler guy that they put onstage to kill time.”

“It really sounds like John Mayer, though.”

“Oh my god, is he wearing CAPRIS?”

The stranger onstage was, indeed, John Mayer, and he was, indeed, wearing a tank top, manpris, and black tennis shoes. Ouch. Other than the frightening wardrobe choice (where’s the womanly influence, Jen?), he was looking pretty good. Especially when he took his shirt off for the last song (sure, it was a little unnecessary, but who am I to complain?):

John, have you been working out?

Anyway…the concert was fabulous and you should all come next year. We’ll have a special SWTCTW section, with lots of ice and Coors Light.

Before I wrap this up, I have to recognize the two MVP’s of the concert. First, Mr. Michael Franti for reasons stated above:

Okay one more of him, courtesy of Katie, just because these are cool photos:

The second MVP award goes to Dave Matthews’ drummer, Carter Beauford, for being the jolliest human I have ever seen:

Carter, I dig you.

[Posted by Mallory]

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Filed under adventures, blogging, celebrities, crushes, dance, music

dammit, world, let me love adam!

Our bloggy friend Caroline over at Drunkinarowboat has posted a few times about how irritating it is when people get mad at you for liking mainstream music. In her articles, she talks about how much she loves Coldplay and John Mayer, and how, you know, we’re not supposed to like them because everybody likes them.

I’ve been thinking about this today for a couple of reasons. First, this quote was in Quotes of the Day today (yes, I know, I’m obsessed):

The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he really is very good, in spite of all the people who say he is very good. [Robert Graves]

I hear ya, Robert! I mean, who’s to say John Mayer isn’t to music what Shakespeare is to writing? (That could be just ever so slightly a stretch, but you see what I mean.)

Second, this morning over breakfast, I read a Coldplay-bashing article in the NYT magazine. In it, Virginia Heffernan spends an agonizing 15 paragraphs dissecting Coldplay’s MySpace page. No Virginia, not okay. She draws this impressive conclusion at the end:

Because it lacks the conviction of a real, florid MySpace page, [Coldplay’s MySpace page] is obscurely embarrassing. Yet, in a straightforward way, it underscores the embarrassment of Coldplay’s music — the mawkishness, suppressed arrogance, halfheartedness and squeamishness about rock stardom. When illustrated by the graphics here, embarrassment seems like an entirely worthy theme for very hard soft rock.

Wait, what? Either way, I’ll still going to consider it totally enjoyable and acceptable to loudly duet “Viva la Vida” in the car with my sister.

The third reason I’ve been thinking about all the elitists who hate popular music is that I’m going to a festival this weekend that several of my hippie/emo/elitist friends have condemned as “too mainstream,” as if the crunchy folk and the angry teenagers had the market cornered on music festivals. I think the lineup is amazing: headlined by Dave Matthews Band, John Mayer, and TOM PETTY, with other acts like Stephen Kellogg, Jason Mraz, Citizen Cope, moe., O.A.R., Spoon, Michael Franti and Spearhead, Brett Dennen, Ingrid Michaelson, Flogging Molly, The Roots, and The Black Crowes. Plus some others that didn’t make my short list. And yes, I did just want to brag a little bit, because how kickass of a lineup is that?

Even though I’m thrilled about the above mainstream/hippie/jam band acts that I’ll be seeing this weekend, I’m still annoyed that people are so condescending about it. I was talking to this kid at a bar about the concert, for instance, and of course he said that he wasn’t attending because it was “too mainstream.” He then asked me what my favorite band was. Here’s the moment where I know I’m about to be judged by a person like him, because, goddamnit, I just happen to be hardcore in love with the Counting Crows.

Now, why on earth should I be embarrassed about that? Alternative Elitist Boy at the bar seems to think I should be, but it’s not like I’d be admitting to owning every S Club 7 album ever made (did they even have more than one album, by the way? And didn’t they have a movie?).

The point is, everyone should just calm down, pour themselves a tall Jack and Coke, and admit that songs like “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby” really are insanely good. (Incidentally, “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby” is the song I request every time I’m hammered and someone pulls out an acoustic guitar. The fact that NO ONE ever knows how to play this song has never stopped me from begging.) Anyhoo, let’s take a listen to a live version and I’ll stop ranting:

[Posted by Mallory]

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Filed under celebrities, music