Bonnaroo, Day 4: Sunday

Sunday began much as Saturday night had ended--with us cursing Kanye West. Not only had we waited up a very long time to see him (after a draining day of being out in the shadeless What Stage field), not only did his concert finally start thumping around the time we decided we needed sleep, but those that did go to his show were returning to the camps around 6am, making a lot of giggly noise (ecstasy- and nitrous-based, I assume), and pretty much waking me up for the day.

I'll be honest--despite the greatness of the preceding three days, those first few minutes of Sunday daylight found only one thought racing through my head: "Get me out of here." There was a panic, realizing we were at the mercy of our fellow campers--only when enough of them went home to clear a path for our car could we go anywhere--and then there was resignation, realizing I had two major shows left on my agenda to see.

We managed a fairly relaxing morning at the campsite, with Joker getting a little more sleep and me just relaxing as much as possible. We got cleaned up, we ate, we sat around and chitchatted with the neighbors (somehow, a car from the row behind us actually got out in the middle of the night, despite being surrounded on all sides; it was the talk of Camp Darth Vader all morning), and we did most of the packing, which made escape seem more possible. By lunchtime, we were in a much better mood for going to see some music.

We headed over to Centeroo to take a last pass through the merchandise booth (nothing new worth buying, thankfully for my wallet), to grab a bite to eat, and to check out how the silent auction had finished out. I came in third place on the bids for the Pearl Jam Australian concert poster signed by all six members of the band. It was a shame not to get it, but my wallet was relieved. We got some more seafood from the vendor we'd gone to on Friday, and sat outside That Tent to hear a little of the Lee Boys. Once they were offstage, it was time for Robert Randolph's Revival, the first important show for us that day.

I saw Randolph for the first time two weeks earlier, when he opened for Eric Clapton, and instantly got hooked on his high-energy, funky shows. Randolph is a steel-guitar virtuoso, trained in, of all places, the Pentecostal church, and I couldn't wait for Joker to get the chance to see him live. Randolph did not disappoint: He had a bigger band lineup than I'd seen before, with the addition of two additional steel players, and played a completely different mix of songs. Highlights included a steel-guitar rendition of the vocal melody from Michael Jackson's "Rock With You" (to which the audience provided the lyrics); an instrumental jam based on Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" (tore the roof off), Randolph grabbing a Bo Diddley-model guitar and paying tribute to the recently-departed legend with one of his songs and a moment of silence; and an encore featuring T-Bone Burnett (attending the festival in his capacity as ringleader of the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss band). Burnett was offered a guitar, but insisted on strapping on the Bo Diddley model. Plant watched from backstage; Randolph threatened to drag him onstage (it probably would have made me faint), but Plant demurred.

And then it happened. During the encore song, Randolph inserted a non-sequiter lyric: "Kanye sucks." The crowd cheered, and Randolph expanded on his thought (I paraphrase from memory): "I don't mean to come down here and talk a mess about somebody, but y'all paid your hard-earned money to come down here and have a good time, hear some music, and there's no need for Kanye to come out here and act so sorry." He finished the song, and tacked on one more dig at West: "Y'all came down here to hear some good music, and we come out to play for you. I came out, T-Bone came out, Robert Plant, all these other people...no need for Kanye to make you just hang all night. Can I get a 'Kanye Sucks?'" (Yes, yes he could. It was loud and heartfelt.) As the band left the stage, whoever was working the PA for That Tent scored extra points with us by immediately cranking up a recording of Curtis Mayfield's "Move On Up," most famous recently for being sampled by Kanye West in "Touch the Sky." If that was intentional, then I owe that guy a steak. If it wasn't, it was at least a wonderful moment of serendipity.

Now that we were fully pumped-up by the music, we were ready for the rest of the day. We headed to the Ferris wheel to grab some high-altitude photos of the festival, and then intended on seeing Aimee Mann at The Other Tent, but fate intervened: the folks from the Silent Auction called to tell me the people ahead of me hadn't responded, and the autographed Pearl Jam poster was mine if I wanted it.

I deliberated for a while--money vs. a fantastic collectible from the weekend of the best PJ concert I had ever seen--but it didn't take long to decide to bite the bullet and buy the thing. It went straight into a roll and to the car, and when I got back to Kentucky, straight to the framer's and onto my mantelpiece:

I rejoined Joker at the What Stage for the Plant/Krauss show. We opted for the front pit section, since the line wasn't very long, and got a great position for the concert. We had been foiled earlier in the year trying to get tickets to the tour's kickoff show at a small theater in Louisville, so finding ourself down close at such a giant venue was a great surprise. The show was great, with low-key renditions of Americana standards and reworked Zeppelin/Plant songs. The slowed-down duet version of "Black Dog" might get the most attention, but the (surprisingly) rocking version of "Black Country Woman" is what I'm hoping will be on the DVD. Plant delivered a couple of signature moments--one of his screams and an old catchphrase, "Feels pretty good up here"--and the late highlight was a faithful and goosebump-inducing rendition of Zeppelin's "Battle of Evermore." Robert Randolph was in attendance, visible on the VIP viewing balcony at side-stage, but despite our hopes, he didn't sit in with the band. Either way, it was the second (and final) great performance of the day we'd gotten to see.

We made our way back to camp to finish packing up and get back to the real world. Along the way, we stopped briefly to hear a little bit of Death Cab for Cutie on the Which Stage, and to eat "arepas"--essentially, grilled-cheese sandwiches made of sweet corn pancakes around melted mozzarella--which had been tempting us from the food carts all weekend. Report Card: A. Tasty and filling!

Traffic leaving the campground was rough for a while; more people left early than Bonnaroo had anticipated (the downside of booking a niche jam-band like Widespread Panic--who wind up on the bill every year, usually as a late addition--as your closer), so things were backed up until traffic police could get in place, but eventually flowed smoothly. And by midnight, we were back in Murfreesboro, ready to crash in beds and sleep the whole night through.

It might have been the best sleep of my life.

Still to come: I finally--FINALLY!--explain why Pearl Jam's Saturday-night Bonnaroo show was the best concert I've ever seen.