Day Three was the coolest and breeziest so far: Festival conditions weren't exactly comfortable, but easily the most tolerable I've experienced in the Tennessee summer. My first assignment of the day was Das Racist, the fun party hip-hop group of "Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell" fame. There was a bigger dance party around the periphery of the tent than inside, but everyone seemed excited when they announced (tongue-in-cheek) that "We're going to do some more rap songs." Heh. Though I had to leave their set early in order to catch Wild Cub, local guy Brandon Jazz informed me they at one point instructed the audience to face away from the stage (the audience complied, he said), and closed out with "Rainbow in the Dark."
Road to Bonnaroo winners Wild Cub had a crowd of about 150-200; some people I recognized from Nashville, others I didn't: and I saw at least three unfamiliar faces singing along to the Phil Collins-up-to-11-style pop (with more and better drums). There were some tech issues with the first song, but that didn't seem to faze the dude dancing on a pylon.
I was looking forward to Santigold the most out of any artist this weekend. She performed on the largest stage, a place I'm used to seeing lasers and LED screens and other assorted shenanigans, but she utilized the space with effective simplicity: two backup dancers, multiple costume changes, and two people dressed up in a horse costume like you'd see in a cheap sitcom's Halloween episode.
The top half of her set was hit-heavy, with "L.E.S. Artistes," "Lights Out" and seemingly the entire crowd clapping along to "Disparate Youth." She invited audience members up to dance for "Creator," and from my vantage point it seemed relatively orderly, but a friend closer to the action described it as a "bum rush" and a "total mess." But everyone seemed to exit the stage fairly quickly (kudos were given to security), and she closed out with "Big Mouth."
Last-minute decision-making took me to The Roots, and though I'm mostly unfamiliar with the band and missed approximately the first third of the set, it was one of the funnest times I've had so far: I legitimately started to groove, which is a big thing for a person (read: bitch) with a non-groove personality. I also high-tailed it to Alice Cooper with buds at midnight, and heard "Eighteen" and "No More Mr. Nice Guy," which was quite enough — I'm getting old, guys. While everyone else stuck out the Cooper set and went to Skrillex, I did the old lady thing and headed to bed. Read more on all that stuff from my colleagues.