I left Denver early in the morn for a long day of driving on my way to Wakarusa Music Festival. Just outside of town I picked up a couple hitchhikers who were thinking about making a pit stop at Wakarusa on their way from Washington to Tennessee for Bonnaroo. We had plenty of time to chat as we drove straight for hours and hours down one of the most boring stretches of highway I know. According to local legend, wakarusa means a river that’s ass deep. I’m not sure how exactly that relates to a music festival but there was a whole lotta booty shaking going on during the four days of live music.
Thanks to Guitar Center we were able to fill up both freezers with a good selection of ice cream and popsicles from Frosty Treats in Kansas City. After some of the best BBQ I’ve ever had from Jack Strack’s I headed out to the airport to pick up Craig, who was our main photographer all weekend. A couple from Arizona happened to be looking for a ride to the festival and we didn’t have much trouble making room for them in Bessie.
My goal was to arrive at the festival in time to catch The Avett Brothers but it just didn’t work out. We loaded up a bunch of goodies from the store, then grabbed our passes and ventured backstage to see what our parking options were going to be like. The artist hospitality area was behind the Sun Down Stage and was nestled under the trees to provide some much needed shade during what I considered a heat wave. Kristii from Body Works (aka the masseuse to the stars) had her tent setup toward the back and we found a path through the trees so that we could park near her where we wouldn’t get too ransacked throughout the long weekend.
Outside of Craig who flew in, the rest of the crew drove to Kansas from the northwest. Aaron and Jeff were making the trek from Seattle, Knife from Corvallis, Oregon and Bessie and I were coming from Ashland. We checked out Disco Biscuits the first night we arrived then sprawled out and got some much needed rest.
The majority of the bands on the bill would be considered jam bands. Their influences ranged from bluegrass, jazz, funk, country, to rock but they all seemed to share the common theme of groovin’ music that’s meant for dancin’. As much as I enjoyed a lot of the music, the non jammy bands tended to be my favorite. Sets by Grace Potter, Jake Shimabukuro, Reverend Horton Heat, Hurra Torpedo, and Greyboy Allstars mixed thing up enough to not get too monotonous.
One of the highlights of the weekend was getting to dance on stage as an alien during the
Flaming Lips set. Even though the pasta sauce that night made me feel a little strange, it didn’t stop me from getting down to one of the best live bands around. I was a bit overwhelmed when they started playing “Do You Realize” and I looked out over the audience then sang, “Do you realize…..that you have the most beautiful face.” I wonder if Wayne get chills every time he sings that to tens of thousands of people? What a nice compliment.
We made the most of our backstage playground and took advantage of croquet and a nice open area to toss the bee around. They even had a frisbee golf course out by the campground and we all somehow woke up early one morning to put it to good use. There were two main areas for music. The main one had the two largest stages and the big tent and about a mile away there was a separate area right next to the campground where smaller band would play and some of the bigger bands would play late night sets. It seemed to work out pretty well and kept people active.
The best part of Wakarusa was the location. Clinton State Park was full of green grass, trees, plenty of space, and a Clinton Lake, which was not too far down the road. During most of the weekend I felt like I was on vacation just as much as I felt like I was at a music festival. The size of the festival (15,000 of your closest friends) allowed for an intimate feeling amongst fans and artists. The other huge plus is that it takes place the week before Bonnaroo so it’s a very convenient stop for those driving out from the west coast. The only recommendation I can think of – outside of paying off the FBI and DEA to avoid the not-so-friendly drug check points – is to mix up the style of bands a bit. Bela Fleck and the Flecktones are some of the most skilled musicians on the planet and by the time they played on Sunday I had heard way too many jam bands and couldn’t make it through more than a few songs, which is a shame.
