Shelter from the Storm: Dylan, Byrne, Trey and the Dead Brave the Hard Rain of Bonnaroo By Corey J. Feldman The once vibrant green plastic bracelet on my wrist has finally faded into an aqueous turquoise. The three ringed symbol and the words “BONNAROO MUSIC FESTIVAL 2004” are still apparent, but the plastic is ripped and my digits have lost much of their luster. I was number 89,726 to get a Bonnaroo bracelet, and my campsite was set up at about 6:30 a.m., five and a half hours before the first of over seventy bands and artists took the stage from June 11-13 on a farm in Tennessee.

The weather was hot and humid, in the 90s or hotter every day, and the threat of gargantuan downpours perpetually loomed over the shoulders of the music lovers from around the country. People had come to see Trey Anastasio, Dave Matthews, the Dead, Bob Dylan, Moe., David Byrne, and Gov’t Mule among many others. Although these names brought a lot of attention and certainly the widest audiences, they only vaguely represent the array of folk, alternative, jam, and bluegrass artists that graced the presence of the masses.

There were two large stages and four tents with smaller stages set around Center Roo, a village adorned with a coffee shop, a voter registration booth, a CD store, a batting cage, an arcade, a satellite radio stage, several restaurants, and a giant mushroom fountain to cool the concertgoers. The four smaller tents hosted artists and bands that drew finer veins of fans from all over. I was impressed by the sheer amount of music I was able to take in even though I couldn’t possibly have made it to every show on my wish list.

Dave and Friends shocked me on Day 1 with a high energy performance, particularly from Tim Reynolds, who seemed to completely lose his musical inhibitions by the end of the show, creating extraordinary molecular noise with all sides of his guitar from the bridge to the tuners. I was glad to see Dave Matthews and Trey Anastasio give Tim the spotlight he deserved as a ripping guitarist. That was my second Dave and Friends experience, and their sense of musical balance was much sharper in front of the Bonnaroo crowd Even Dave seemed happier than ever to be on a stage, taking time away from his guitar and microphone just to dance that funky white boy dance. Yeah Dave.

Since I’ve been back to New York, I’ve been asked about the living or dead nature of Bob Dylan at least a dozen times. “Did he fall over on stage?” “Was he able to stand up?” “Can he be good at that age?” I’d never seen Bob Dylan until Bonnaroo 2004 and in my opinion, for a man his age, Bob can still rock. He sat at a keyboard and occasionally attempted some harmonica, although I didn’t particularly enjoy his harmonica playing. Accompanied by his band, which held up the bulk of the folk-influenced rock, Bob managed to give the colossal crowd something to enjoy: his presence and his voice. Distinct from anything else, and often criticized in the past as one of his lesser qualities as a musician, Bob Dylan’s voice seemed to bring the fond memories of the 60s to fans from everywhere.

More or less, it was awesome to see Bob Dylan play, even though I gave up String Cheese Incident, who I still have yet to experience. On the other hand, that may have been my last chance to see good ol’ Bob (don't believe it, I've said the same thing to myself time and again only to be treated to another year and another Dylan show. Keep On Truckin' Big Guy- Ed. CMC).

After a long night in traffic, then a long day of bluegrass, Mardi Gras music, Bob, Dave, and a few confusing moments wandering lost around Center Roo, it was midnight and I was faced with a difficult decision: Umphrey’s McGee at the Other Tent or Vida Blue and the DJ Spam Allstars at That Tent? My friends were passed out at the campsite, and I was alone with a camping chair just outside the Other Tent, so I decided to hold out for Umphrey’s.

Late night sets at Bonnaroo are undoubtedly the shit for non-headlining bands. The light show uses the tent canvas like a projection screen for the dozens of cone-shaped lighting patterns. The tent was spinning and waving horizontally and vertically with the cartoonish orchestrated jams of Umphrey’s. By 2 a.m., I’d helped a bearded, bare-chested hippie blow up balloons to bounce around the audience, I smoked with two strangers who pulled up a couple of matching camping chairs, and I witnessed a parade that featured a Mr. T float (no fucking clue). My mind was completely devoid of energy and I was losing concentration with the jams. That is, until I realized that Umphrey’s was no longer on the stage. Moe. got up during the Umphrey’s set break to play a few songs including a personal favorite, “Recreational Chemistry.” Umphrey’s slowly trickled back on the stage to play until well past 4 a.m. At about 3:30 I stumbled to a food stand where I paid $10 for a wrap that fell apart in my lap as I sat 100 feet away from the Other Tent watching Umphrey’s from afar. I just stuffed the wrap filling in my mouth, wiped my fingers across the grass and started my 45-minute walk home.

Day 2 had bucket-loads of rain in store, delaying both the Galactic show as well as the Dead. Galactic had the smaller of the two main stages, and they welcomed a number of guest musicians including some horn players from the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra. Luckily I had a poncho and snow boots, but the rest of Bonnaroo seemed ill-prepared for the elements. While Galactic’s Mardi Gras-bluegrass-blues jams were only an hour late, the Dead took nearly two hours to wait out the rain. My friend and I found two folding chairs to sit in toward the back of the massive concert field. Determined to smoke out the rainstorm, we passed a pipe under our ponchos in an act of rebellion against the god of storms. By 10:30 or so, the Dead came on to play, but three songs in, it was time for us to hike across Center Roo to wait for Robert Randolph. But I got a “Good Lovin’” and that’s all that matters.

Day 3…the day I was really waiting for. I started my afternoon with former Cityzen cover girls Antigone Rising. This rockin’ female quartet can jam hard, and their songs are catchy and fun. With an early 2 p.m. set, Antigone had a tent full of people listening intently to their Skynard tinged rock anthems.

He was accompanied by a band and a small orchestra of mostly string musicians who represented the bread and butter of his solo material. At 52, David Byrne has a certain charisma on stage that puts him in a category all his own.

And finally, the moment I was waiting for: the giant downpour between David Byrne and Trey Anastasio. Halfway through the Byrne set, my friend decided to leave me to fly solo while he got some rest before leaving Bonnaroo. I wasn’t about to opt out on Trey, but the thunderclouds were approaching. That was around 7:30 p.m. and I was sitting on the ground holding my spot close. I started building a moat. Using a plastic fork wrapped in foil as my digging tool, I created a trench around myself that I thought could keep me dry for at least a few more minutes sitting in the sand about 40 feet from the stage waiting for Trey Anastasio. The rain pelted down as I hid under my poncho and my moat slowly overflowed.

By 8:45, the Nashville Symphony Orchestra was preparing on stage and the clouds were slowly drifting away. Trey’s first set was an arrangement of compositions derived from his recent classical album as it was melded with many of the musicians from his 10-piece solo band. Trey switched between being the conductor and being the guitarist in an orchestra conducted by a close friend. But the real moment for which I came to Bonnaroo was captured: I have a digital photo of Trey conducting the climax of his 12-minute orchestral version of “Guyute,” a song I hold dear to my ear. This was a moment that forced me, in a haze of colorful lights, to turn to the stranger to my left and say, “Hey, it was nice being at the climax of Guyute with you.”