The Kaya Festval - 40 Years Of Kaya With The Marleys And Friends (Day One)

The Kaya Festival took place over the weekend in San Bernardino, celebrating 40 years since the release of Bob Marley's landmark album, Kaya. Marley's children got a bunch of their friends and fellow reggae legends together to fill the NOS Events Center with positive vibrations - and a whole lot of kaya for good measure.

Day One

My brother, Paul, and I were going to head out from Venice to the I.E. to cover the Festival for Juice Magazine, so that meant that we would pretty much for sure not make it for the first bands, because L.A. traffic just doesn't allow that. We stopped to eat at Mitla Café in San Bernardino to fuel up before the long day, and because I'd just seen it on Ugly Delicious and learned that Taco Bell began by copying Mitla, who are celebrating their 80th Anniversary there on historic Route 66.  It was a delicious and delightful way to begin our S.B. adventure, and also THANK GOD - as the food lines at Kaya Fest were ridic. Apologies to Day One openers Ahuhea, Indubious, and Roots Of Creation who we rolled up in the middle of. I'm sure you were great, there was just no way. Also, 12 hours is a hella long concert, so I'd be surprised if much of anyone was there by the doors opening at noon. And kudos if you were!

The rasta vibrations were felt the minute you walked up, with Roots Of Creation providing the beats as we checked in and went to find the Media tent and get the lay of the land. There was a rasta bus called the "Irie Bird" parked back there and inside the kind people from Greenwood Farmz were supplying everyone with the kaya that we were celebrating - legally now! They also had coffee, tea, water, lollipops, and shade, so it was an excellent place to take a load of here and there during the days. Thanks to the Irie Family!

Native Wayne took the stage to introduce Jamaican legend, Marcia Griffiths, who made me say "Wow" when she took the stage, so regal and elegant was she in her cape and headdress. It was super hot, super sunny, and the audience was probably the most colorful one I've ever seen. Rastafari colors of red, green, and yellow were the order of the day, but any color was good, as long as there was a lot of it. There were a lot of women in awesome turbans and a whole lot of dreadlocks, on men, women, and children alike. JAH! Rastafari.

"Sweet Bitter Love" was awesome, and also when we realized that we'd probably need ear plugs in the pit. The bass was so heavy that I could feel it in my heart, and I heard mention of someone nearly losing their bowels from the bass, so it was no joke (though other factors may also have contributed). We were in the presence of Reggae Royalty - and would be all weekend. "I Shall Sing" made everyone shout afterwards, when Griffiths yelled, "Is everyone feeling Irie?!" I mean, how could you not be? Griffiths ended her set with "Buffalo Soldier" and had everyone singing along, of course.

Between the heat and the tons of weed and the long lines at the food and bar booths (and the even looooonger lines at the bathrooms), it was an endurance festival, for sure. Paul got an acai bowl to give him back life, and that allowed him to get in the photo pit to shoot Common Kings, who took the stage to the Game Of Thrones theme. I'm not sure why. I didn't yet know the Common Kings, but the ladies did, as there were several high-pitched shrieks when the singer came out with his very coiffed facial hair and green satin Bob Marley jacket. It was harder rock reggae, with shreddy guitar solos and all. "Lost In Paradise" seems to be their big hit, though "24/7" got all the ladies worked up with its "You taste so good to  me, I know you love it when I go harder", causing some blushes down front. They got the crowd dancing, and the guitarist even took his licks out into the crowd while the singer shouted, "Love! Love! Love!" It was just that kind of a day.

We took the long lull (between every band, both days) between bands to walk the grounds and see what we could see. We found Paul a sweatband to keep it from dripping in his eyes while he shot, and cooled off over by the fountains at the entrance. There were merch tents, food areas, a dancehall, a yoga area, and plenty of grassy situations for people to relax (or collapse) on as you did some fantastic people watching.

"The bad boys of reggae music" were up next, and that meant Inner Circle. The band (formed in 1968) opened with "One Draw" and its "I wanna get high ... so high" opening got the yells from the crowd, who were mostly all doing exactly that. It was so refreshing to have it out in the open, de-stigmatized and fully enjoyed. Passing a joint from stranger to stranger at a reggae show in the sunshine is one of the best things ever - it breaks down all barriers in the pursuit to actual One Love. At least that's what it felt like just then. The party anthem of the weekend (and that's saying a LOT) might have been Inner Circle's "Young, Wild & Free", with everyone singing along the "So what we get drunk? So what we smoke weed? We're just having fun, we don't care who sees!" chorus, and truly feeling the sung sentiment all the way. What a blast. "Sweet Jamaica is calling you!" yelled the singer to close their short set, and he was right. I cannot WAIT to return to sweet, wonderful Jamaica.

We cruised around for a bit, and marveled at how cool and also how hard it must have been to have kids with you at this festival. They were running all over, playing by the fountains, around an inflatable Lion of Judah, on the dance floor, rocking out up on someone's shoulders, eating ice cream, having fun. One woman I met wanted this to be her child's first concert (how cool! The Marleys playing Bob's Kaya 40th Anniversary as your first concert ever?! Awesome.), and when I saw her in the daytime it was all happy and good. I saw her waiting out the long wait for the Marleys after midnight, and it was not looking as fun. The Kaya Festival definitely has some logistics to work out ... endless lines for food and drink, even longer bathroom lines, and way, waaaaaay behind schedule. People get sitters and have to work and all of that, and when artists make them wait for literally hours at an already 12 hour show - it gets to be a bit much. (More on that for Day Two.) For most of both days we were starving, thirsty, and had to go to the bathroom, but the good vibes made it all somehow ok.

                                                                                                                                 (the bathroom lines)
Action Bronson was next, and my least favorite set of the weekend.  He came on saying, "I need you all to put your middle fingers in the air!" He opened with his "Chairman's Intent", rapping, "You don't even know me!" He was right, and I'm fine with that. He reminded me of a white DJ Khaled, and that guy gets on my nerves too. "Terry", and "Actin' Crazy" were pretty bumping and I got it, and I found out Bronson has a food/travel show called Fuck, That's Delicious - and he skates, so that's cool. He ended with "Baby Blue", yelling, "Why you gotta act like a bitch when I'm with you?" and turned me off again. I'm not down with the "bitch" talk. Ever. Lowlight.

Now the sun was setting, and the pink full moon was rising - perfect! The planners did get that right, a full moon over the Marleys! That also meant it got chilly, and we were high-fiving ourselves that we'd chosen to lug around our jackets all day. It got SO cold, which made the extra-long delays even more irksome. The bathroom lines were so super extra long (even in VIP - not good) that it caused me to miss most all of Yandel, who sounded very Latino. He had dancers shaking it, some catchy jams, but I assure everyone that I never, ever, EVER need someone ever to yell "Make some noise!" again. It's SO played out, and I bet we heard it 10,000 times this weekend. Paul turned to me and said, "Is this Reggae? Ton?" Haaa. Yes, I think it is.

We left the venue at this point to walk to try and find some food. There was a taco place nearby with ONE lady working with like her two remaining ingredients. No go. Back to the venue, stomachs growling, as by now most of the food booths had shut down because they'd run out of ingredients and they still had the next day to deal with. We got back in time for "The Mighty Toots and the Mighty Maytals!" and all was forgotten.

"Beautiful people, it's good to be here!" shouted the wonderful and legendary Toots Hibbert, clad in all rasta colors. "Pressure Drop" kicked things off and got everyone dancing again, and then he strapped on a guitar for the classic, "Never Grow Old". It was as awesome as to be expected, as was "Funky Kingston". Hibbert was buff and spry and rocking, and you'd NEVER guess the dude was 75! The set felt a little short (perhaps because they were so far behind), but we got "Monkey Man" and an extended jam to end their time. Long live Toots and The Maytals!

The entire venue was PACKED (I overheard someone say the venue was 6,000 capacity, but they'd let in 13,000, explaining the lines and the being way underprepared), and they were all there to see the Marley brothers. It felt exciting in there, and as if everyone had collectively found their second wind. I ran into an entire crew from Venice, and Block got everyone together for a photo by the Kaya album cover. It's always fun to run into Venice when you're out of town, and that it was for THIS, made it even better. The hype man hyped everyone up, and  the whole crowd was singing along to recorded Marley tunes. Skip Marley (son of Cedella Marley/Katie Perry collaborator) came out and got everyone hyped up for the Marleys with his tune, "Calm Down". He is clearly carrying on the family tradition, and both looks and sounds the part, especially when he shouted, "One Love! One life to live!"

Jo Mersa Marley (son of Stephen) gave us "Burn It Down", and he brought out his "little brother" Johan, for some more reassurance that the Marley name is in good hands. Arms and flags were waving in the audience as Jo Mersa yelled, "Say 'Love' if you're with me!" "LOVE!!!!!" Yes. We were in the right place exactly in the world that we needed to be in right then.

By the time the sons of Bob Marley took the stage, it was ON. Ziggy, Stephen, Junior Gong (Damian), Kymani, and Julian Marley took the stage together as every lighter in there (yes, lighters, not phones) was way up under the pink moon to welcome this legendary and historic family. It was awesome.

"Do you love Bob Marley?!" was the question, and thunderous shouts were the answer in the affirmative. How cool for his kids that they live their lives knowing how beloved their father was - by everyone in the world. They do him justice, and carry on his legacy with love. And every Bob Marley song still has significance today. A lady near me said, "It's weird how his lyrics are still so true now." And they are. They played "Crazy Baldhead", changing the lyrics to "Chase those crazy Marleys out of town!" The entire crowd sang along for every song, because we all know all of those true lyrics for a lifetime. It felt very special. And it was.

"Kaya" was the first track played, appropriately, and the crowd really did go wild. I got emotional, like choked up and teary eyed, totally out of the blue. I think it was that it just felt so good to have so many people feeling the same vibes, originally put out there 40 years ago. All the Marleys are wonderful, but when Damian takes over, it's a whole different thing. He gets the crowd riled all the way up, and the energy is instantly jacked up a whole bunch of notches. He spat out some riffs on "Kaya" and immediately updated the tune for the right now. He said, "We are the Marley brothers!" and we all just felt grateful to be there.

"Rastaman Vibrations" brought the positivity, and Ziggy went solo on an acoustic guitar. "So Much Trouble In The World" was next, and found the brothers alternating verses, as they did on most of the tunes. It wasn't all about Kaya either, as we got deeper Marley tracks like "The Heathen" and Damian Marley's "More Justice" hyped up the crowd anew.

"Misty Morning" had Stephen taking lead, and Damian dancing around the entire time. "Is This Love?" featured Julian Marley on lead vocals, and he fired it up with extra enthusiasm. Kaya has so many classic Marley tunes on it, it's almost a greatest hits album. A must own. "Rebel Music" and "Top Rankin'" were off other albums, so you got something from everything. "They don't want us to unite" is a verse, and also, too bad for "They". We were a super united group in this space and time, and something the whole world would do well to emulate.

"We and Dem" led into "Get Up, Stand Up", and as late as it now was, it really did feel like it could go all night and no one would care (aside from aching feet and backs, starvation and full bladders). "Satisfy My Soul" kept the grooving going. Julian Marley took over for a tune of his I didn't know, and it was then that I noticed that there were about as many people on the stage as in the audience. The crowd had doubled from just Marley friends and family, I'm pretty sure. And they were all having a blast.

Kymani Marley's "All We Need Is Love"  was great, as was Ziggy Marley's new title track from his new album (Rebellion Rises - Out May 18). There are many new Marley albums, and Damian next played his "Medication" off of his excellent recent release, Stony Hill. He also explained that "Kaya" means "Cannabis" - we got it. After that party jam, Ziggy said, "We'd like to welcome our friend, he was raging against machines, and now he's a prophet of rage!" - and with that, Tom Morello took the stage to join the brothers for "Exodus".

The brothers all lined up bouncing in excitement, as they knew Morello was about to blow some already very blown minds. When it came time for Morello's solo, he went nuts. Metal arpeggios to the constant "Exodus" backbeat might have been incongruous, but it worked, and definitely got the people all amped up. When he went for the solo with his teeth, he revealed that the back of his guitar had a "Fuck Trump" sign on it, and that got huge cheers all the way to the back row. Damian and Morello jogged in place together all the way to the last note, yelling, "We love you!" at the end. It was SO good.

We got one more, the timeless, "Could You Be Loved?", and it was so happy and festive in there, you just wanted to bottle it. The Marley brothers took a group bow, with their flag-bearer waving the Jamaican flag behind them, waving as they left an entire event venue exhausted and totally spent, but happy and IRIE.

We limped back to the car, and after a long while of looking for a room in the fully sold out town, we headed back to Venice to sleep a couple hours, bathe, and head back out to San Bernardino to do it all again. JAH! Rastafari.

*All photos by Paul Gronner Photography 
**Reprinted from Juice Magazine

The Art Of Gary Palmer - Depth And Magic

It's a rainy day in Venice, perfect for reflecting. And for writing about - and reading about - the meditative art of my friend, Gary Palmer. I first got to know Gary Palmer as a friendly Irishman who was also a regular at The French Market. Then I got to know his art. And then I wanted to know more, so after years of friendship and coffee (and one memorable champagne all day marathon) run-ins, we finally sat down to chat about his whole story and his art.

Palmer was born in Belfast in 1968, "When the troubles began." He attended a school that was a mix of Catholic and Protestant kids, which made him interested in what created peace and reconciliation. Art became a way for him to retreat into his own little world as an escape to a place where people weren't fighting. He was also fascinated by the street paintings he would see, that to him led to underground magical worlds, and saw those artists as local heroes. He kept winning art prizes throughout his school years, but didn't want to attend art school, because he didn't want to be told how to paint. So he studied theoretical physics at Edinburgh instead. And got a Masters in Architecture. No big deal.

A gig with an architect in Australia got Palmer even more into street paintings, and he began doing his own chalk art with a 3D perspective. He attended street art festivals all over the world, and following the sun led Palmer to Los Angeles. He published a book of his chalk art called A Carpet Of Dreams in the 90's, and kept attending festivals. His first studio was in Hollywood on Cahuenga, where he started doing paintings on canvas for a living, as people would walk by and want to buy the paintings off of the walls. It was his mother's dream to live in California, and soon Palmer's family joined him in L.A. He did some street painting in Venice, and "liked the vibe" here. When Bush Jr. took office, it freaked Palmer out so he took off for a six month meditation retreat in Mexico, and when he came back, Elwood Risk offered him his studio space in Venice. Palmer leaped at the chance, and was soon ensconced on Vernon in Venice, working on meditation paintings that incorporated his thoughts on gravity and physics, which "are tied to understanding nature."

Street painting adventures in Italy led to a trip to Africa from Malawi to Zanzibar, where Palmer enjoyed observing how diverse people can come together and all get along. This became a dominant theme and inspiration for Palmer, as he began to explore how different cultures interact with each other. Paintings feature such diverse subjects as Masai warriors and the Lacondon (Ancient Mayans who never cut their hair), as Palmer would travel to observe peaceful indigenous peoples living in harmony with nature. Narrative paintings with accompanying writings and abstract expressionism works make up his Memories of Zanzibar series (with a limited edition monograph "life diary" boxed set put out by Fathom Gallery).

Back in Venice, living on Flower and working on Sunset and Vernon, was a grand old time for Palmer, with music and art and parties and creative juices flowing ... until last year when he got the boot out of the artist studio building on Vernon due to massively increased rent (the sad and all too common story around Venice these days). Fortunately for Palmer, a friend was leaving Venice and offered her studio space right on the Boardwalk to him for an actually affordable (fair) price, and now he gets to work with an ocean view. Things have a way of working out sometimes.

More recently Palmer has been doing these great meditation pieces, that he says are "Saying something ABOUT nature, instead of being a picture of it. The meditation pieces reflect the breath." I dig that. "You get bored if you do the same thing all the time, you have to EXPLORE. You make a diary of your life, and even the installation is part of it." This makes sense then that after a relationship with a Japanese woman, Palmer is now doing abstract landscapes with sumi ink that you can view at the Tarryn Teresa Gallery. They remind me of the art where you blow the ink around with straws, so again you are reminded about the breath - and to take a moment to appreciate it and breathe.  During all of this creativity, Palmer is also at work on a book, On The Nature Of Nature - bringing him back to his physics roots. He's an impressive cat.

On Venice and its draw for artists, Palmer says, "There is a good tradition of art and painting, and the 'Space and Light Movement' here in Venice, with Ed Moses and Larry Bell ... people see different things here." A big sigh was exhaled while reminiscing about old Hal's and the Venice West stories. "That's part of the heart and soul of it all ... it's still here, but it's changed a lot. I'm nostalgic about it all. The next generation is all about tech, and the spirit of talking to each other at a bar is much less. But there's still a hell of a lot of positive, so I don't like to gripe." He still frequents the "pale shadow" of Hal's, because there is still the art and our people and jazz, and James Beach, the LA Louver, and The French Market remain his mainstays - and mine.

"There is a depth and a magic about the place. There are still nuggets of that here every day. An artist sent me a letter offering me her space just as I was about to move it to Inglewood! People see it differently. One person's idea of what it's about here is totally different than another's." And that's what keeps it interesting, I suppose. One very cool thing that Palmer is working on is to get an annual street art festival up and running in Venice. "Venice is crying out for a street art festival. It would be a nice way to bring the past into the present." To start out with a chalk art festival, and add the whole gamut, like tattoo artists, muralists, graffiti artists, all of them is the goal. "It's a bit more Venice to have ALL of the street art together." I'm all over it. Palmer has had a section of the Abbot Kinney Festival each year dedicated to a community mandala chalk art piece, and it's always one of the highlights of the day. They've been denied that space (?!?!) for the next one, as the want it for more commercial space. Blah.

Palmer mentioned that Hinano's approached him about maybe making it happen down on the Washington Square, and I can't think of anything more awesome, with all the chalk art and murals and everything extending all the way down to the end of the Venice Pier, with everyone working together on a big mandala in the circle part of it above the ocean waves below. And the Geobender can make sand ones alongside it!

I say that because the very day I interviewed Palmer, I walked down the beach afterword, and saw the sand mandala by Geobender there in the sand - more meditative art, and  another beautiful example of the depth and magic of the place! Kismet. Let's help get that festival going, but also continue to search for those special qualities of this place as an every day reality.

Like Gary Palmer does.

FYF Fest ! Day Three - ROCK!

 *Reprinted from story for Juice Magazine!


Day Three of the FYF Fest, and I think we all got the hang of it. There was a different feeling in the air ... more relaxed, less pressure to do it all (though it was still nagging in your mind that so many things were happening around that you were missing at any given moment), a slight, refreshing breeze, and the real, tangible need to just let go and ROCK.

I always feel a little bad for the day's first bands, because many people are still recovering from the previous day's activities well into the afternoon. That was definitely the case for myself and my brother, who had had two gigs AFTER FYF Day 2, and had been up all night. But still, there was epic rocking to do, so we got there as fast as we could. We missed Cherry Glazerr, but I heard they rocked it very hard. There were many, many NIN shirts in the line to get in, so it was easy to see what the day's big draw was. One such shirt wearer was saying he didn't get why they weren't playing IN the Coliseum ... good question.

We checked out some of the stuff we'd previously missed, like the Fingerprints Records pop-up, said hey to the Vans people again, had a quick bite, then hot-footed it over to the Lawn stage where Ty Segall was about to get underway. The festival girls were out in force, and it was fun just to look at all the creative, awesome fashion that was going on, and watch them dance without a care in the world. Not just like no one is watching - they WANT you to watch. Freedom - that's one of the best parts of festivals ... you forget everything else that's going on for a few days. You just focus on how much music you can possibly see and hear, and what new things you might discover. Calls and emails tend to go unanswered for those few days. It's a badly needed escape, and everyone is united in that vibe. It's pretty beautiful.

DJ Harvey was spinning in the Woods area, and it was clear that all the day-ravers were having a good old time in there when we walked by. It was like a big, gay dance club with ultra-decked out revelers not giving a whit that it was broad daylight ... if they even knew.

Ty Segall - Wow. This quintet ROCKED it, and was my new discovery of the day. Which is kind of lame, considering that I see he has like 9 albums out, but hey, better late than never. They were throwing it down, and people were picking it up like crazy. Dancing, moshing, head banging, INTO it. The guitars were shred-tastic, with all kinds of feedback antics, and Segall himself reminded me of a more punk rock legend of Venice, Paul Chesne.

Appropriately for the day, these guys played their "Freedom" with its line, "I'm not scared." Me neither, boys. The crowd grew and grew as people going by heard how great these guys were, and they deserved it. "Finger" got the audience so hyped that there was now daytime crowd surfing. Yes.

Thirst required another walk, and we caught a little of Joey Purp rap in the Club tent while quenching it. That was good for another few shouts of "Make some fucking noise!", which sent us packing off to see some of what Mac DeMarco had to offer.

The slacker rocker had a full audience by the time we got there, comprised mostly of young females screaming for the Canadian dude that flirted with them from the stage. DeMarco has an interesting way of leaning into his chords, and the girls dug it. He was probably the most verbose performer I saw all weekend, as happy to chat between songs as to play them, it seemed. He played mostly from his Salad Days EP, and looked like he was having a great time doing it. Melodic rock, but rock - in the order of the day. "The Stars Keep On Calling My Name" has the line, "I just wanna go" ... which me and another girl near me echoed. Off to the next!

Back at the Club tent, Moses Sumney was taking his sweet time getting set up, finally taking the stage saying, "Lord Jesus, there's a fire!"

Not under him, apparently, but that was fine as a slew of people were still streaming in to hear his heavily altered vocals, looped live to create an ethereal whole. It was interesting and absolutely good, but I had a date with Iggy Pop all the way across the venue.

I was rushing away while others were rushing in, showing once again how varied the musical tastes are at FYF. This was all the more obvious when I passed the Main Stage above, and saw how many people were down there for Little Dragon, while I couldn't wait to get to the Lawn to see Iggy.

                                                                                                                       Photo: Goldenvoice Media
Iggy motherfucking Pop! The punk rock icon/legend/warhorse/miracle bounded onstage shirtless - of course - with both middle fingers blazing, and immediately lit into The Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog", causing the punk faithful gathered to lose their ever-loving minds. It was non-stop jumping and moshing there in the Lawn stage pit, and you could see Pop feeding off the incredible energy. He was flailing about, jumping up and down, and was out in the crowd on the very first song. This 70 year old powerhouse was way more gnarly than most of the youngsters in the crowd, showing them first hand what it means to be punk rock.

Shaking his ass to the camera, Pop knew he had this crowd exactly where he wanted them, and "Gimme Danger" and "The Passenger" rocked so hard he just said, "Fucking thank you, FUCK!" afterwards. Exactly. Then Pop put his mic down the front of his jeans to free both of his hands to get the whole place clapping, and the band simply scorched their way through "Lust For Life" (my favorite), and the ensuing mayhem really showed the strength of that title. Everyone was feeling that, all the way. It was so good, even Pop yelled "WOOOOO!" after it was done.

"Skull Ring" led right into "I'm Sick Of You" and the reception was so big, Pop said, "Hey, fucking thanks for checking us out, fucking thanks, Fuck!" Just as you want your punk heroes to be. "Repo Man" cemented Pop's status as the Godfather of Punk, and "Search And Destroy" smashed that cement - and the mic stand Pop seemed to be mad at. The almost-ballady "Gardenia" was something special, but even that appeared to require moshing. "TV Eye" led right into the last song, "Mass Production" that was so hair-raisingly hardcore, it left Pop limping off the stage, beating his bare chest like the warrior he is, but not before thanking the people in the pit - who damn well deserved it. Phew!

The sun was now almost fully set, and the night was just starting, if you can believe it. There was really no time at all for us to slack. We barely stopped to eat, there was so much music to see, and we didn't probably see half of it. I don't know how the big drinkers and druggers do it ... I almost felt like I needed workout clothes on just to get places in time! So, we ate on the run and listened as we chewed.

The mad rush to the Main Stage to see Solange was now on, and the VIP area was already fully packed by the time I got there. Solange seems to have her own Bey Hive, as the screams were high and shrill from the very start. The set was lit all red, with geometric shapes giving it all a very 70's variety show vibe. When Solange and her backing band and dancers took the stage - all in extra-tight, red outfits - the crowd went into actual hysterics.

They began with "Rise" from her seriously good album from last year, A Seat At The Table. It was all very artistic, and modern dancey, showing that Solange, like Björk and Missy Elliot from Day One, will do whatever she wants in the name of her art. And good for her, because it's awesome.

Solange choreographed and wrote it all, and even the backing brass band, in their rash-guard tight tops, got down with the dance moves - while playing their instruments. Impressive. Solange introduced "Cranes In The Sky" by saying "I want you all to sing it away", and that kind of summed up the weekend for me. A massive group coming together to sing away all the troubles and hard times we've all been going through, to release it and find peace - together. It was pretty emotional for an already emotional gal like me, and I assure you, I was not alone. When Solange ventured into the crowd to sing "F.U.B.U.", a woman singing with her had tears streaming down her face. "This shit is for us!" And you felt it.

Each time Solange did a spazzy dance move with a totally straight face, the crowd went insane. When she turned around and performed some impressive twerking, they downright lost their shit. I'm fairly new to Solange's table, but have had mad respect for her ever since she kicked the shit out of Jay Z. This girl has your back, and she made that clear in every number she sang. "How many of you have got the tree leaf out there?", asked Solange. Um ... I think everyone. No one was feeling any pain, unless it was in your feet after three solid days of non-stop rocking. But who cares? This was all well worth it.

"I wanna see y'all jam! When this beat drops, I want to see you all breakdance!" "Locked In Closets" hit, and I'm not kidding when I say that front to back, side to side, we all DANCED. It must have looked so rad from above, because it wasn't just bouncing, there was full-on choreography going on in the crowd. People MEANT it. After their bow for that one, Solange laughed and said,"I had to make sure my wig was still on, I felt a shift!" Because she was going for it, dancing full-tilt so hard, she even threw in a little Morris Day funky bird move.

"You guys have been a part of my journey, thank you for letting me experiment and explore!" Massive cheers, because everyone WANTS her to explore ... look what you get! We got "T.O.N.Y.", "Junie", and "Losing You", and that was that ... until Solange was back, huge brass band and all for "Don't Touch My Hair" and an outro of "Rise" that found Solange freaking all the way out, on her back, flailing her legs, doing jumping jacks, going OFF ... only to get up and walk calmly off the stage, hands clasped behind her back as her superfans tried to pick themselves up off of the ground and pinch themselves. Wow. Solange is a true artist, and I can't wait to see what she gets up to next.

What we got up to next was Run The Jewels! We got back to the Lawn stage just in time to see Killer Mike and El-P take the stage beneath their giant pistol and fist logo to Queen's "We Are The Champions". The crowd was huge, and all of them were stoked, as the pit got going from the second they kicked it off with "Talk To Me". Everyone was jumping up and down, all the way back to the VIP area, a long, long way off. "Let me hear you say motherfucking YEAH!" said Killer Mike after that one, and we said it LOUD. Killer Mike is a good dancer, and I like him even more now than I did when he first came on my radar as an avid and erudite supporter of Bernie Sanders. His nickname is very apt - he IS Killer.

"Blockbuster Night Part 1" was awesome, and at its end, El-P said, "Holy shit! It's an amazing thing that you're spending time with us!" We thought exactly the same back. "Call Ticketron", "Oh, My Darling Don't Cry", and "Hey, Kids" ruled it, and Killer Mike also thanked the pit, saying, "The Pit is the shit!" And it was. Pure, raw energy and the power of hard rock, man. It was something to behold. "Stay Gold" and "Close Your Eyes (And Count To Fuck)" killed it so hard, and then I had to head off to try to get close of Nine Inch Nails, but not before I heard RTJ's guest lady rapper, Gangsta Boo, yelling, "I say pussy, you say power!" Pussy! Power! Yep.

The crowd was already drone-worthy over at the Main Stage, but I was lucky that Paul had already gone over there to secure us a spot on the very front rail. The anticipation was building by the second, as was the audience. As was the photo pit. HUGE. As it should have been, for Nine Inch Nails' first show in three years!

The bright lights suddenly went on, the smoke machine blew like crazy, and there was Trent Reznor in his black leather and shades, busting right into "Branches/Bones" from their brand new Add Violence EP with the ferocity of these very times.

The instant they began playing, you realized how vital this music is to now, and how much they've been missed. The music is dark, it's ominous, it's hard, it's heavy, and it goes the fuck off! The power of this music is nothing to mess around with, and the pit in the center looked increasingly dangerous the further down the setlist we went. Yikes.

                                                                                                                    Photo: Josh Bagel Klassman

"Wish". "Less Than." "March Of The Pigs". All pure rock of the hardest kind. They slowed it down a minute or two for the gorgeous (but still dark) "Something I Can Never Have" from Pretty Hate Machine, but then it was right back to the superspeed. "The Frail". "The Wretched". Then it was a full on singalong for "Closer" and its "I want to fuck you like an animal" chorus. Nine Inch Nails fans mean business, and all of them were out of their minds. So were people seeing them for their very first time - they were that good. Guitarist, Robin Finck, tore through each song with blazing prowess, and reminded one of Halloween's Michael Myer's if he was sick at guitar.

Atticus Ross held it down on the bass, and you had to stop and think about how much he and Reznor have seen and done in their long careers together. They've created one of the most serious bands ever, and their music served as a majorly cathartic release for everyone gathered there in front of them.

This is the kind of rock that makes one let loose with total abandon and just FEEL it. They did a cover of David Bowie's "I Can't Give Everything Away" that was both heavy and touching, as Reznor said, "We've been away three years, watching as the world has gone crazy." Well, now they're here to help. Thank goodness.

It never let up and a breakneck pace led us through "The Lovers", "Reptile", "The Great Destroyer", "The Hand That Feeds", and a monster "Head Like A Hole", killing it all the while. It was honestly outrageously good, and that is unanimous. They returned for an encore that was "Hurt", which was probably good, because the slower pace most likely prevented speeding and reckless behavior on the way out ... a little cool-down was needed. The applause raged on, but that was the end of FYF Fest 2017, and it was something else.

As good as it all was, the fact that they had exactly ONE exit for the entire grounds was insane. The artistry of this festival is perhaps the best booking I've even heard of in a long while, with such cultural and musical diversity that it nearly boggles the mind that it's all on one bill. That creative mastery is dampened, however, by some really, truly mind-boggling logistics that make no sense at all, and really need to be sorted out if they hope to have the longevity and success of other, more seasoned festivals (that always have more than one exit, for God's sake). It took a long while to get out of there, and thus gave us time to reflect ...

Our consensus was that the best new live discoveries for us were Thee Oh Sees (by far), Built To Spill, and Ty Segall. The best, period, for us were Björk, Missy Elliot, A Tribe Called Quest, Iggy Pop, Run The Jewels, and Nine Inch Nails. All of whom absolutely KILLED. IT.

Thank you to FYF Fest 2017, and to Juice Magazine - for letting us share the rock!

Fuck Yeah.

*Photos by Paul Gronner Photography (unless otherwise indicated)