Let me be frank: music festivals are awful. They are magnificently unpleasant. All of them. There is almost no other way to spend $350+ and have a worse time, other than maybe flying coach to the Midwest three days before Christmas.
That...
Let me be frank: music festivals are awful. They are magnificently unpleasant. All of them. There is almost no other way to spend $350+ and have a worse time, other than maybe flying coach to the Midwest three days before Christmas.
That being said, this will be my sixth year attending Sasquatch. My first S’quatch was in 2006, and I went consecutively for the following four years. The 2010 festival was, barring Massive Attack’s STUNNING performance, such an abysmal waste of three days that I, during the dark, rank, exhausted drive back, swore I would never, ever go again. Ever.
Going to Sasquatch is like getting waxed: after enough time has passed since you last had your hopes and dreams ripped out through your bleeding follicles, you forget the pain and gloss over the memory. Soon enough, you’re back on the table, writhing in agony, wondering what the hell you were thinking.
And, so, two years since I last subjected myself to the dirty, loud, hot, overpopulated nightmare that Sasquatch has become over the past five years, here I am with a four-day pass and a rough schedule of bands to see.
Now, before you point your grubby little hipster fingers at me and call me a naysayer or a cynic, I will admit that music festivals have their advantages, Sasquatch especially so. Yes, it’s expensive, but I would probably end up paying close to $350 to separately see just a quarter of the bands that will be playing.
Yes, it’s an overcrowded swarm of humanity, but, as an introvert, I would rather condense all the over-stimulation of multiple shows into one intensive session from which I can then spend the rest of the year recovering.
Yes, it’s hot and cold and dry and wet all at the same time, but I defy you to find a more beautiful backdrop to lounge beneath for four days.
There’s also something I find incredibly satisfying about making it through a weekend of Sasquatch—sporting sunburns and bruises like badges of honor, recounting harrowing tales of drunkards and overturned HoneyBuckets to gape-jawed friends, and then, of course, those moments when you hear a song you just saw performed live and immediately relive the vivid connection between musician and audience that only blossoms during the extraordinary kind of sets that are somehow so commonplace at Sasquatch.
Sasquatch is instant misery and latent bliss, generous suffering and hard-earned ecstasy. It’s something you dread and pine for, all at the same time.
However, not all the evils of Sasquatch are necessary ones, and I will concede that my personal Sasquatch experiences did, for the most part, improve each year as I better learned how to prepare for and navigate the festival. So, out of both the kindness of my black, merciless heart and the hope that, for some of you, reading about your own douchebaggery might jar you into self-awareness, I have constructed a list of Do’s and Do-Not’s for your immediate absorption and strict adherence, punctuated by small samples of what kind of musical greatness to expect this weekend.
You’re welcome.
15 ways to make your (and my) sasquatch experience not absolutely terrible:
1. DO NOT take a dump in the floor of a HoneyBucket.
First things first. This is one of the main reasons I swore off Sasquatch after the 2010 festival. I walked into not one, not two, not three, but FOUR (quatro) HoneyBuckets in which someone had wiped feces (caca) all over the interior.
Mentally, emotionally, I can’t even begin to ponder the process of completing such a task. But, nonetheless, someone(s) found themselves inspired enough to attempt it, and dedicated enough to succeed. Now, I understand that there are, imaginably, mitigating circumstances which might excuse, if not explain, how an individual might suddenly find themselves exploding with poop. And even if there’s no medical reason, and you just suddenly felt the inescapable need to not defecate like a human being for a moment, all I ask is that