By Kelly M. Marshall
I was working a corporate chair massage gig at a random high–rise in Austin, Texas when my colleague started boasting about her upcoming massage stint at Bonnaroo, the four-day-long music festival in rural Tennessee.
Colloquially called “The Farm” by festival-goers (aka Bonaroovians), Bonnaroo celebrated its 17th birthday this year, making it one of the longer-standing music festivals in the South.
“I want in on that!” I exclaimed to her. She shared the contact info of the massage organizer with me, and next thing I knew, I was off to work (and play) at the coolest music festival in the South.
Once I set up camp, I made a routine of heading to “Planet Roo”—the area of Bonnaroo devoted to global stewardship, political activism, and eco-conscientiousness—for coffee, yoga, and conversation with folks each morning. On Friday, I connected with a regular Bonaroovian and talked with her about queer culture at Bonnaroo.
She was pensive for a moment and said, “This is what I’ve observed: often in the culture outside of this festival, the LGBTQ community silos itself, to create safety and community. But here, inclusivity is built into the culture and the branding of Bonnaroo, so there’s no sense of separation. Everyone parties together, and you’re encouraged to be yourself as much as humanly possible, as long as you’re conscientious, accepting, and kind.”
“People of all ages, genders, races, sexual orientations, and ability levels come together to connect, play, and enjoy music from all over the US.” Photo by Alison Green.
And this is what I observed, too. My community came in groups of friends and easily made new ones. We were decked out in full queer regalia every day. Unapologetically. Rainbow flag capes a la Lena Waithe, glitter, spangles, makeup, heels, suspenders, harnesses, thongs, jock-straps, you name it. It was like QueerBomb meets ACL, but way more relaxed.
The denizens of Bonnaroo are a diverse group, in every sense of the word. People of all ages, genders, races, sexual orientations, and ability levels come together to connect, play, and enjoy music from all over the US, with a bit of a concentration on southerners. There is also a robust sober community at Bonnaroo, which I was so grateful to find and connect with.
Bonnaroo also aspires toward inclusivity in terms of offering a wide array of musical acts (this year’s headliners were Eminem, Muse, and the Killers, with Khalid, Paramore, Sheryl Crow, Sylvan Esso, Bassnectar, and others supporting). The lineup is the lifeblood of a music festival, and it’s a delicate balance to curate a lineup that will both draw a crowd and serve Bonnaroo’s mission.
I was told by my colleague that this year was a very relaxed Bonnaroo. It was by no means sold out, even though the Farm was easily filled with a sizeable village of around 50,000 festival-goers. The expanse of acreage (700!) at the Farm makes accommodating this kind of crowd an enjoyable experience, versus ACL (Austin City Limits) which attempts to cram 75,000 people into 350 acres over two weekends. The breathing room makes a huge difference.
“Everyone parties together, and you’re encouraged to be yourself as much as humanly possible, as long as you’re conscientious, accepting, and kind.” Photo by Alison Green.
Yes, I know ACL is coming up. And if you simply must, feel free to attend. But I’ll tell you from experience, if you’re going to do the music festival thing here in the South, go to Bonnaroo instead. It’s worth it.
Finally, I’ll leave you, future queer Bonaroovian, with five tips to enhance your experience of this magical festival.
1. Spring for VIP camping.
Just do it. Save up, spend the extra money, and camp in VIP. You will be closer to the festival grounds, have access to outdoor showers that you won’t have to wait in line for, and you’ll be under a shaded tree canopy. You will be tired, hot, dehydrated, and possibly often hungover. Invest in your respite space at the end of the night (or morning). Also, you’ll have access to the VIP lounge, which is a welcome blast of super-cold A/C and WiFi in the middle of the heat of the day. Trust me. You will regret nothing.
2. Pack consciously.
Especially bring: earplugs, shower shoes, hiking boots (700 acres, y’all), a first-aid kit, more water than is reasonable for one human being to consume over four days, a mixture of fun costumes and practical clothing. Snacks (like protein bars, etc.), Emergen-C, electrolyte tablets. Advil. If you’re in a hookup mindset: condoms, lube, your favorite toys, any other necessary accoutrements for that. Hookup culture is strong at Bonnaroo. And there are a lot of pretty queers there. Like, a lot.
3. Plan Lightly
Sure, there are shows that you’ll want to see and you’ll plan for. But also, life happens. Sometimes, there will be a magical new act that seems to have sprung up out of nowhere that might captivate your attention even more than the headliners. This was true for me—Bonnaroo was how I discovered Clozee.
4. Be Conscientious, Accepting, and Kind
During the day, Bonnaroo teems with southern charm. People are friendly, warm, and inviting. Sometimes, people will annoy you with their drunken/high antics. Preserve and observe the culture of Bonnaroo by not taking it personally and taking care of yourself. By night, the energy of Bonnaroo shifts into a kaleidoscope of altered states, laser-light shows. Pace yourself. Be safe. Make good choices.
5. It’s a Marathon
Four days of music, intense sun, and partying can wreck your body and brain if you don’t pace yourself. Drink lots of water. Rest often. Take naps. Sleep in. Slow down. Skip a show to take care of your body. Eat all three meals. Don’t let FOMO make decisions for you.
There you have it, a queer guide to Bonnaroo. If you went, feel free to chime in and connect with us about your experience. And I hope to see you next year!
