Jason Isbell
Constant internet access and a sense of life in the real world: Those are two things festivalgoers learn to live without at Bonnaroo. And by the final day of the festival, everyone is both acclimated to that and a little delirious, giddy from the constant stimulation and exhausted by the elements. This makes for a strange environment to be in when news like the mass shooting in Orlando breaks. The details emerge more slowly, as does the ability to wrap one's head around it. But most in the crowd had heard the news and begun processing by 4:45 p.m. on Sunday, when Nashville-by-way-of-Alabama star troubadour Jason Isbell performed. It was the Bonnaroo vet's first turn on the What Stage, but — between firing off his own expertly crafted songs and ferocious duels with lead guitarist Sadler Vaden — Isbell had bigger things on his mind.
“My heart goes out to everybody down in Florida and everybody all over the world that’s dealing with some of that shit right now,” Isbell told the crowd. “I think we’re all good people. I think we’ve got the brains and the heart that it takes to figure it out — to put a stop to this kind of bullshit and learn to live peacefully together. But the trick is compassion and empathy. I think that’s the trick. That’s the only thing that I’ve learned.”
Hours later, Grateful Dead legend Bob Weir offered even stronger words on the Orlando attack at end of Dead & Company's festival-closing set. This was the last message to sound through the speakers at Bonnaroo 2016:
Earlier on, our heads were in a different place when we started our day watching a legend from the crates in the musty back rooms of beloved record stores come to life when the reunited Cymande took over the Which Stage. In brutal afternoon heat that we suspect conspired to keep the crowd criminally small, the U.K.-based Afro-Caribbean funk ensemble played crate-digger classic cuts like “Bra” and “Dove” whose elastic rhythms and otherworldly harmonies took them around the world in the early ‘70s and have fascinated hip-hop producers ever since. Selections from 2015’s A Simple Act of Faith, their first album since reuniting, fit in perfectly with the vintage tunes, showing their touch is as deft as ever.
One of The Spin’s more surprising discoveries on Sunday was Lafayette, La., troupe Givers. Rocking a very modest crowd with an afternoon set at The Other Tent, the band mixed up an eclectic but finely coalesced blend of punk, funk, power pop and New Wave with hints of tropicalia. That might sound like a sonic stew from the bowels of your worst Chili Pepper/311 nightmare, but Givers actually make it simmer and gel into a cool and sexy patchwork that was easy to dig and fun to watch from start to finish.
Fittingly, the sun was at its highest point in the skies over Manchester when we got to the Who Stage to check out Baltimore indie-rock up-and-comers Sun Club's 'Roo debut. To avoid the torturous rays beaming down, assembled festivalgoers mainly watched this one from the edge of the Amish Baking Co. tent. The few lethargic fans near the stage started to sway a little as the band played, but most of the folks looked too parched and hungover to let the good times roll. It didn’t seem to discourage Sun Club, as they kicked out a set of good vibes to the exhausted watchers. We extend our most sincere props to the band and those front row fans for sweating this one out.
Charles Bradley
While many Bonnaroovians may have missed out on Givers or Sun Club, if they were over at What Stage watching Charles Bradley and His Extraordinaires instead, who could blame them? After a couple minutes of an obligatory soul-set-opening groove jam, the Extraordinaires implored us to welcome to the stage, "the baddest man you know, the Screamin' Eagle of Soul, Charles Bradley.” Big soul ensembles tend to be among The Spin’s favorite ‘Roo performers, and Bradley and his seven-piece delivered slick, fat-sounding slabs of the good stuff, front-loading their set with one of our faves, “The World (Is Going Up in Flames),” early on. Brother Charles asked us to come along with him to that "old-time church" ahead of “How Long,” screeching and wriggling like a man in pain, and he slid around slyly during “You Put the Flame on It.” After a costume change, the onetime James Brown impersonator (yes, really) returned to the stage, wrapping his set with his stirring signature cover of Black Sabbath's "Changes.” Bradley preceded the song — the titular track from Bradley and the Extraordinaires’ latest — with a beautiful message of love and forgiveness that, in conjunction with the group’s killer performance, brought more than one audience member to tears. Maybe even The Spin. Or not. None of your business. But we were happy to see Bradley doling out hugs and kisses to adoring fans down in front of What Stage as we headed to our next assignment.
Sunflower Bean
Stopping by the Who Stage to catch the tail end of Sunflower Bean definitely wasn't a mistake. Hailing from New York, this early-20s indie trio boasts some striking-looking members — the guitarist a dead ringer for a young Bob Dylan, a bleached-blonde goth on bass wearing all black in the punishing sun, and a braided long-haired drummer who looked like he could've just walked over from general camping. The band's sound isn't quite as distinct as its look — yet — but packed a lot of cool ideas into pretty short songs, matching folksy boy-girl harmonies to Andy Summers-style arpeggios drowning in swirling chorus and flange effects, with a noticeable krautrock influence on the fluidity of the rhythm section. Our only real critique is that Sunflower Beam, which we kept accidentally calling them, feels like a way cooler and more appropriate name for this dreamy, 'gaze-y music than Sunflower Bean. Just a suggestion.
Death Cab for Cutie
And Speaking of memorable band names, the third Seattle act to play the What stage in the past 24 hours, Death Cab for Cutie went into their set Sunday with the odds stacked against them. Scholarly early-Aughts indie rock, the world where Ben Gibbard and his band originated, doesn't tend to set this crowd's world on fire — looking at you, Spoon and Belle & Sebastian last year. And in addition to it still being hot as blazes for the band's 6 p.m. start time, their faded-Polaroid-tinted sad-guy rock managed to punch somewhat surprisingly above its light weight with a well-structured, diverse performance that peaked with the prog-y, drawn-out "I Will Possess Your Heart" and elsewhere made slight returns to the Built to Spill-style string-bending favored by the band in its early days.
Kurt Vile
About midway through the set Gibbard swapped out his Fender Mustang for an acoustic spin on "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," by request from perennial 'Roo 2016 lineup-interloper Chance the Rapper. He's apparently a fan — although since the song in question is the biggest single of Death Cab's career and thus a likely staple of its festival set list, we had a hunch Gibbard was just showing off, letting it be known he and Chance are friends. Not that we blame him.
The last time we caught Philly stoner-rock luminary Kurt Vile was at Marathon Music Works a couple months back, where — despite a solid performance — sound problems limited how much we were able to enjoy our experience. There were no such audio issues at Vile and the Violators’ late-afternoon set at Which Stage — punishing heat, on the other hand, did get in the way a bit. Vile & Co. dug straight into their set under the mid-afternoon sun with the reverby glory of "Dust Bunnies." "I'm an Outlaw" and "Jesus Fever" were good, breezy reprieves from the heat, but the sun ultimately won out, driving us to a spot in the shade behind the stage where we could listen without getting our bell rung by that bastard star our planet orbits. We managed to creep back out of our cave for a handful of other songs, crowd favorites “Pretty Pimpin" and “Wakin on a Pretty Day” among them. Good stuff. But when oh when will we be able to catch Vile’s pleasant and comfortable indie rock in a setting that is pleasant and comfortable?
Father John Misty
On our way back to Which Stage an hour or so later, we hoped we’d finally get the massive appeal of indie-folk pseudo-demigod Father John Misty. Though his rockstar swagger, Jesus-like aesthetic and Kanye-sized attitude were certainly palpable, we still strained to hear and see something we found all that interesting. Of course, The Spin is a sucker for sardonic, clever lyrics, but, without a lyric sheet in-hand, his delivery of them didn't exactly slice through his easy-going, garden variety indie-folk rock.
But what might have confounded The Spin more than anything else on Sunday (despite how much sense it makes when we actually think about it) was that '90s nostalgia-circuit lamecakes Third Eye Blind, performing a late-afternoon set at The Other Tent, outdrew the reunited Ween — the only band from the festival's inaugural 2002 lineup on this year's bill — who closed down the Which Stage in whimsically grotesque party-band style. "Shit, we should have our own tent," guitarist Dean Ween bantered midway through the band's criminally short 75-minute set, noting that it was their "fourth or fifth" (it was their fifth) time at Bonnaroo. Save for festival-friendly posi-vibe-rife numbers like "Roses Are Free," "Ocean Man" (which we noticed totally sounds like it could have been a Roxy Music song) and the infinitely chill "The Mollusk," the band mostly stuck to darker gems like "Buckingham Green" and songs like "Spinal Meningitis (Got Me Down)" and "Touch My Tooter" that sonically distill the sound of a already warped mind going insane. Even the ever-chimerical "Take Me Away" deconstructed into an extended, heady jazz-fushion jam.
Ween
Dean Ween looked like how we felt at this point in the festival — under-slept, unkempt and cranky, but still trying to have a great time. Gene Ween, on the other hand, (who's bearing a striking resemblance to Billy Joel as he gets older) looked overjoyed to be back in Ween land, and he looked he was working out some intense internal shit as he spit out the barrage of jilted-ex insults at the end of the GodWeenSatan deep cut "Nan."
Meanwhile, that inexplicably massive 3EB overflow crowd was eating vanilla out of Stephen Jenkins' hand on the far reaches of Centeroo. Jenkins, wearing what can only be described as a fashion smock, threw himself into the role of “rock singer at music festival,” leading a chant of “Fuck Yeah!” and reminding everyone that we are “fierce, alive, and together.” Fans on the grass quietly murmured along to songs like “Graduate” and “Semi-Charmed Life,” we suspect because there was still enough sun to make everyone groggy, and also because it’s kind of embarrassing to be seen knowing all the words to Third Eye Blind hits. Not that we’re speaking from experience or anything.
Third Eye Blind
Though 3EB seems like a band that would be outside the festival's purview, seeing an inflatable dick bobbing along to "Jumper" was a reminder that Bonnaroo is a magical place where anything can happen.
Inflatable dick loves Third Eye Blind A video posted by Ashley (@ashspurge) on
