PlanetPhoebe Does Hulaween

Tour Diary submission written by: Phoebe A. Xavier

Photo by: EDM Identity/Bearlosophy

Is it too late to do my Halloween episode? What’s that, you already have your Christmas stockings up on the hearth? Too bad we’re doing it! OK, roll background story…This summer on Phish tour my friends Pirate & Ivana kept bringing up tales of their experiences working at annual Florida festival: Hulaween. The event was started in 2013 and it takes place on the magical Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park grounds. It is hosted by veteran jam band The String Cheese Incident, who play seven sets each year, but it also features an assortment of other bands to fill four days up with music that scores the irl soundtrack for a 1/2 week long Halloween themed party. Pirate and Ivana have been working as beer vendors there a few years and I was like “dude get me a job!” They managed to get me on their work crew, but it didn’t wind up paying in dosh – instead I’d have to work one six hour shift on Sunday and could rock out to the music Thursday through Saturday. Kickass! Let’s write an article for Hope!

Pirate & Ivana

So a full day early, on Wednesday I caught a ride from Tallahassee to the north central corridor of Florida, just west of where the 10 and 75 meet. (Live Oaks, Florida) Pirate & Ivana were not expecting to make it in that night, but told me approximately where to find our mutual friends Metal Mike & Mynx. And yeah, you better just get used it now… all my friends have rad fucking names. Even some of the douche canoes in this article manage to have cool names. It’s a thing in the twenty umpteens – brrrranding beotch! #ketchup..ahem.

Anywhoodles. My ride in needed to get to his camp so I had him drop me and my gear on the side of things where Metal Mike should have been, but I was not oriented to the general outlay yet. So I stashed my shit with some kids that seemed legit enough and wandered around checking the place out.

I initially found the area staged around Spirit Lake which was more a pond, but surely chock full of spirit. While one side of the water there is vending and camping, the other half is surrounded by permanent art installations. Like stepping into a corner of the movie “Labyrinth” or “The NeverEnding Story,” it was riddled with wonderful shit to trip out to. There were huge metal fire breathing dragons and enchanting little nooks with carvings and paintings of Goddesses imagined and mythical alike. I didn’t notice it then, but the Butterfly Dome was being put in place for this year as a new installation.

It was fun to look at but after a while the burgers I brought were certainly melting towards a state of rot, so I needed to find a place to cook them. I could find Mike & Mynx later, e. coli was not to be trifled with. So I asked the first camp I saw with a rad grill arrangement if I might cook off some burgers and bacon in their space before it all went bad. They were accommodating, kind people and before I could cook off all the burgers & bacon, Metal Mike spotted me and told me where to find his camp.

Upwards and onwards party people. Also, Keto diet is the life.

After eating at that camp I relocated my gear to near where Mike & Mynx were camped. They’d been there for about four days along with a few of our other friends Justin, John & Josh, who were using the vicinity via hammocks. The fam of these staff workers were babies and Mamas that, I at least, knew primarily through Rainbow Gatherings (#DoYouEvenOcalaBro?)

Though it was only Wednesday the young festie kids were already pouring in. My friends and I were inundated with eighteen-to-twentysomething year old kids coming to their 2nd or 3rd Hula. I had shown up with: exactly $1, some food, cooking gear, a tarp, clothes, sleeping bag & a machete. The festie folks had oversized tents with inflated beds. Like 1 person in a tent made for 6. Or 3 in a tent made for a family of twelve. Maybe not quite the decadence of Burning Man, but they didn’t show up to rough it. This was glamping at a rock concert fo sheezy.

Pirate and Ivana wound up showing that night and we all got fairly lit, having a road fam reunion.  Everybody had pot or dab pens. The crunkness was good. The struggle was temporarily abated. The younger dude-bro crowd was predictably wrapped up in a cycle of who was ‘Most Rick’ when none of them were really even Zeeps. I was confident I could keep em laughing at stupid shit, like pitching “How I Groundscored your Bang Bros. Stepmother” as a TV show and whatnot. The younger ladies camped near us were in a perpetual state of putting on newer fancier make up and fresh changes of slutty outfits accented with forest sprite themes. Just enough innocence thrown in to really make the sluttiness pop, ya know? Contrast. Artists know what I’m talking about. The young gals were on the clock though – paid performers who had to be in those outfits for whatever booty shaking/hoop swirling roaming entertainer shtick they were there for.

Waking Thursday morning I went on a quest to freshen up and come up on coffee. I met a slew of people at different camps I’d revisit through the week that morning. And yes my new friend Tristan served up some gourmet tasting covfefe so I could get my day on. I spent the morn meeting more of the local camps surrounding us after eating some bacon & eggs over at the camp where I had cooked my burgers. Kayleigh did a bang-up job on efx on my face, whilst using fishnet and eyeshadow to give herself a dragon scale look. One gal in a Chewbacca costume assured me she was gonna be fine ‘cause “the woke wook dosed her”. By early afternoon we were organizing for which sets we’d see at which stages. The schedule is worked out so there is always music going on 2 of the 4 stages at the same time. They also sometimes herd you like cattle towards the next act. Good times!

The first act that we all went down to see was Devil Makes Three who played on Thursday afternoon at 4. I had happened onto their set at Hardly Strictly a few years back and was amped to get to see them again. And they did not disappoint. Opening with a strong performance of ‘The Bullet,’ they whipped through an hour’s worth of tunes newer and old and kept the whole crowd in a hoe down like tizzy. Watching Pirate & Ivana dance had me smiling and laughing as I boogied on. At some point I saw and smelt a group using their nectar collector to hit DMT out of a puck like seven feet from the rail. Shit was Lit Space Jesus.1

Afterwards I caught a huge part of Lettuce’s first set. I had heard of them before but didn’t know what they’d sound like. It was above decent jam, featuring trumpet & sax, apparently regularly. They brought the funk and I danced with my new friends Nancy & Mark. It was IPAs, low end theory & twirling crunk chicks for days. We slipped out a few minutes before the set closed and kept slipping on over to the Spirit Lake Stage to check out Elohim.

Photo by: EDM Identity/Bearlosophy

Elohim? I’d never heard of this lady before, sure why not? I immediately noticed that the lights being done on the big LED boards by the stages were mostly the same patterns from act to act. Totally cool. Just meant probably no CK5 action on these smaller stages.2 Elohim was remixing some kind of Kanye crap and I was yawning but she brought it back with her own singing and a more appealing direction on samples. Two songs in I was wondering if maybe I was just watching Santigold in a mask lamping on K doing a rendition of what was basically 1/2 DJing, 1/2 Impressive Posturing to the hella degree. Soon enough, the sound got really fun: it felt like a meld of MGMT & Jai Paul. She ranged from almost convincing “love is a lie” nihilism to talk of having the soft and Xanax on deck.. Cooooooool.. (??) A lot of times her vocals came through over processed, but hey if T-Pain can make a career out of it, you can too. She certainly had a ton of energy and consistent rhythm which got a crowd of kids who barely knew of her rocking out. Totes Macgotes, this was a good start. But I was wasted enough and went back to camp to crash out in Metal Mike’s spare hammock.

Friday afternoon was to feature what I already knew was going to be the highlight for me: Mike Gordon of The Phish From Vermont was set to play with his eponymous band at the Amphitheater Stage. As a longtime die-hard Phish phan I had to see what Mike’s side project would sound like live. I’d already been soaking up the new album “OGOGO” they put out this summer and have been loving every second of it. Plus I listen to the shit out of their song “Normal Phoebe” from the post-Overstep EP “The Last Step”, duh. So I showed up alone, buzzed off a few beers and bowls and ready to jam the phuk out. I slid to left side of the stage again, near where I’d danced for DM3. They took the stage promptly; the band he’s toured with the last few years that features Scott Murawski on guitar, Robert Walter on keys, drummer John Morgan Kimock and percussionist Craig Myer. But also, two young ladies took the stage as well: Emily Elbert on rhythm guitar and Madi Diaz on a keyboard and tambourine. I didn’t know anything about the roster rolling in except that Cactus would be on bass and singing.

Before I had much time to contemplate the ensemble they pushed into “Victim” one of the lead singles off OGOGO. About when the studio version would end they branched out into a tight short jam that returned in a moment to dead drop silence and then Emily Elbert doing the chorus to minimal backing. Madi Diaz took a turn on the chorus as they built the music back up. They went through the chorus briefly, each of them taking turns on it then worked into a nice but short second jam. Next was another newer song, “Pendulum”, which they jammed out into a veryyyy metal space that goes way beyond the album version. It boiled to a furious double trouble, back and forth bouncing of the melody from Mike to Murawski. Out of that one they segued into the familiar “Yarmouth Road”, a tune I’d seen Phish play at least 3 times already. Chill little romcom tune in a reggae style, plus that talking guitar effect thingee! Only this time they took it out for two extended jam segments. In the second, Gordon was dropping some serious bass bombs, and I think a few ‘Fuck Phish’ tree thugger types may have been converted on the spot. Shit went from coconuts to pineapple-rumsauce quick and in a flash I found my ass all danced out after nine songs, seventy-five minutes and a “Sweet Emotion” closer.

Ambling on, I managed to get some food in me as I got ready for my first ingestion of String Cheese incidence ever. At Hula, their sets only take place on the main stage, bookended by huge screens and supported by a dazzling array of lights & lasers. In the process of waiting for various friends to be ready, I only got there in time to catch the last twenty minutes of their first set. I liked it. It was solid jam rock music that I could shake my bod to. The lights were stellar, tho not Kuroda.2 The last song “Nothing But Flowers” was sung by the pianist, Kyle who let us know he’d be at the back of the lawn selling his craft beers between sets. Fo sho, plug that beer. It’s your party and you can plug if you want to.

I came back for set two a few hours later, a bit late again, and this time only caught the set closer “Beautiful” which featured Beats Antique. As one of the few acts I was familiar with already I had been hoping to see Beats play, so -bonus! The big headliner of the night, Bassnectar was the next best thing that was set to happen Friday night, but I wasn’t that interested. The EDM kids can keep their wubba-lubba-dubstep sounding music, imho. I ain’t mad at ya, but I also don’t have to attend.

So I went back to our camp space and scrounged for food and booze while I collected wood to keep the fire going. It may have been a long hot summer, but Autumn nights were finally hitting northern Florida. I chilled with some of the performance gals camped near us – super chill ladies from Miami living out of Gainesville lately. They introduced me to the drink Chartreuse a booze of a different color. Along with that concoction, which is made by French monks with a secret recipe since 1605, we also sipped on an Amaro from Italy. The temp was dropping crazy low so I decided to lay my mat down next to the fire I’d tended for a few hours to get some warmth as I slept. A pair of the dude-bro shitstains kept ‘accidentally’ tripping on me. This adorable couple included a kid I think was named Derek and the boy who was mad that I retained his real name in my memory despite the cool lot name “Grey Wolf” that everyone else called him. A solid three quarters of the words I heard him say were lines from “Rick & Morty”. Earlier he’d repeatedly complained ironically about micro aggressions, while his entire MO was PUA negging and other modes of behavior he probably picked up on the ‘Involuntarily Celibate’ boards on Reddit. And hey sorry for drizzling politicks into a music review, but the fact remains: “Men’s Rights Activists” are pathetic and not something you want in any scene. Alyssa Milano knows what I’m talking about..

So in anycase by an hour after sun up, the less vagabond looking one Derek admits that they’d been doing it on purpose in a very kekistani ‘am I joking about this racism, here have some milk’ kind of way. I growled something to the effect of ‘you do it again and I will tackle you into that fire, I’ve done it before’, which is true. Bitch I don’t front. I considered ‘accidentally’ tripping and spilling boiling water on either of them when they slept, but I didn’t want to escalate it until I had done my work shift and seen all the music I wanted to see. Had to file it away under ‘get the eigenvectors for later’ and never forget that wherever there are people, there will be both great people and awful people amongst the hordes of mostly mediocre.

As the preemie festie children passed out, I woke up to do brekkie and get my coffee on. It was Saturday morning and an interesting young couple had invited me to attend their Singing Crystal Bowl Reiki Tuning event. I showed up a few minutes late, but hopped right into the guided Reiki ritual that Yogi Vish with the sweet handlebar mustache was leading. He was assisted by the lovely Jenna Z. I’d met them the other morning at their Fart bus. Very nice people. Now what’s Reiki? It’s a laying on of hands that is said to heal. Some new agey hipsters would suggest it’s how the mythical Jesus healed people. I don’t believe in such things but I wanted to support their event and see how it panned out. After the Reiki portion everyone laid on their backs for a guided audio attunement. That’s when the giant crystal singing bowls came into play. Jenna, who got the sonics going by spinning the mallet around the rim of the open upright bowls, informed me afterwards that they were special ordered from China and that each was keyed to a different note. It was relaxing for sure. I day dreamed of the Egyptian god Set eating people. No paranormal enlightenment occurred for me. It was however a welcoming loving vibe and I am sure it’d work better for some granola hippies that believe in it.

Photo by: Hollie Turner

I wondered through the Spirit Lake portion of the grounds where I took pictures of various permanent installations. Sculptures and paintings are scattered through this part of the venue; life sized paintings of ogres, giant metal head sculptures, an inflated Lovecraftian beast that you walk through as a tunnel, mirror gardens, myriad paintings and new for 2017 – The Butterfly Dome! Inside this netted dome they decorated the place with candles, plastic skeletons, sugar skull masks, fake spiders and screaming naked Barbie dolls. Thennnnn they brought out suitcases of cryogenically frozen butterflies and slowly awakened them with the light and warmth of the dayball. People took turns sitting in or walking through the dome as two specialists babysat us and the pretty flying insects. I was stoned, exhausted and adrift on childish bliss. One young woman squealed in glee as a butterfly landed on her nose “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me!!” I think she may have been a little rolled out on molly, but good on ya babe, have fun! Maybe the hippie crystal ceremonies opened me up for more cheerful roses kind of vibes. Slutever, I relaxed laughed and met some super cool kids with the Human Being film crew.

From there I went to check out Perpetual Groove for a moment as I considered what I wanted to do & see through the rest of the day. I was also checking in to all possibilities of a ride back to Tallahassee after this all wrapped up in a day. I had never heard of PG, but their placement amongst jam bands fit – the opening song started wayyy slow, but slowly built into a fairly robust jam. I turned down the blunt from the girls next to me cause I’m clean off that tobacco junk for 20 months now. The music fell to the background for me as I started to deeply analyze the whole swagger effect of the ‘17 Hula festie tribe. I’m very into radical style and this place was rife with flashy cool outfits, but the novelty was kind of rare. As I suppose it should be in most contexts. I watched a ripped dude walk by wearing only sneaks, knee high red socks and a skirt made of mini-Superman capes. Or were they Supergirl capes? Either way – mini skirt. There were about twenty-three gals in Louise Belcher costumes for different nights, but not a single Tina, Gene, Bob or Linda. There were, I kid you not, about seventy-two different Grandpa Rick outfits. I only spotted a single Morty costume and he was holding a “Have you seen my Rick?” sign. Think about what that says about the mentality of this diaspora. How desperate they are to be the nihilistic genius/inter-dimensional badass that they forget to include the half of that fiction that makes it human and digestible. #SoundsLegit

Another huge trend was onsies. I was sorta used to some nerd friends being way into the retro onsie thing, but this Fall at Hula there were literally thousands of kids in onsies reveling in the relative lack of adults. Where’s Waldo was a resoundingly repeated outfit as well. There were herds of kids in these cheap looking outfits that would make it look like they were riding the back of something: an ostrich, a velociraptor, a unicorn.. you get the idea. That was hotter than eye holes in bedsheets this year. I saw soft baggy breathable earth tone capris matched with Alex Grey print wife-beater, the same style vegan diesel mechanic elves were rocking at outlaw parties in the Pines ten years ago.. only now the guy in the look was ten years younger as he stomped across the festie and only believed in chakras provisionally, if he thought said belief was gonna get him laid.

And look I’m not saddled up behind this keyboard to sling mud at my least favorite of the millennial kids. I’m just cataloging phenotypes on my way past Galapagos. You do you. I’ll do me. I love seeing people in vibrant neon pop art print shirts that made me exclaim to myself “holy fuck Freddie, you should be inside William Gibson’s novel ‘Virtual Light’ assisting Lucius Warbaby right nao!” But personally I’m not gonna rock their RTJ gear this side of the Camu Tao beef. And I persist that the kids rocking the modern equivalent of a Warhol print, if I referenced the derivative nature of the style, they would think I was referring to a character made up for AHS:Cult this year.

I got up a few songs into the Perpetual Groove set to wander back towards the concept of lunch, and on the way ran across a galvanizing set being done by Tank & The Bangas, a New Orleans based funk/soul band that was raging hard as I walked by. The song I walked in on was more of an R&B harmonization with back up singers supporting front woman Tarriona “Tank” Ball. From that attention grabber they moved into a spoken word piece peppered with horn riffs that played to me as a graceful femme answer to “Spottieottiedopaliscious”. This band now has my undivided. Within the next few songs she had the whole crowd ‘waving side to side’ & ‘jumping’ prompted by her refrains commanding them to do so. Her delivery here was highly reminiscent of a Southern Baptist minister in a revival mode doing his call-and-response to whip up support. I watched a young couple take turns playing with an arm slinky that slid up and down their limbs in a mesmerizing display of quickly flashing thin metal. I mostly enjoyed the funky set, but questioned the ethics of a song that celebrated the ‘miracle of being human’ while completely ignoring that human consumerism is miraculously causing a global extinction in millions of other species. But hey that’s just the Post-Green Utilitarian in me. What a pain in the ass I am, I know.

Photo by: EDM Identity/Bearlosophy

The next big sets I was down to watch were the three String Cheese ones slotted for the night. Set three was to be the centerpiece of the whole Cheese aspect of the event. Listed as the “Night of the Loving Dead”, the third set Saturday was designated to be themed in someway. There’d been speculation they might cover Grateful Dead songs. On previous years they had done a slew of 80s songs one year, 70s songs another. Would it be 90s songs? Tom Petty songs? I was accustomed to this fun sort of speculation on Phish lot before shows. Its the grand adventure of following jam bands that switch up their setlist and renditions every night!

I caught parts of the first two sets while wandering around hustling up beers and meeting with different friends. Being unfamiliar with their music I don’t know what they were playing through most of these sets, but their sound and light show is certainly groovy and tight. Highlight in set two was a stellar cover of Petty’s “You Wreck Me”. For the third set I wandered down with Pirate and Ivana. We were sliding through the crowd when the first drum beat and guitar part started for a song I know best via the RHCP version: “Rollercoaster Of Love”. I instantly started singing the chorus and boogieing down hard. Shit yeah good song! We grooved on over to a spot we wanted to hold in the crowd near a “Baraccoli” totem that bore an image of President Obomber’s face with a healthy head of broccoli for his hair. If you’re not familiar with totems, they are basically just individualized tall-assed poles held up in huge crowds so groups can keep track of their packs’ general location. We weren’t with this crew, but it’s a weird gag of a place holder that helped me keep track of my friends. Out of the opening funk they switched into Stevie Wonder’s “Did I Hear You Say You Love Me” then Al Green’s “Love and Happiness”. From those two into Jackie Wilson’s “Higher and Higher”. This had the whole lawn thrashing in mounting dance ecstasy. The drugs were working, the funk was set to plaid. Next up they pulled out one of my personal favorite’s Beck’s “Think I’m in Love”. I threw my hands up in disbelief and gratitude when that one segued into “The Power of Love” by my favorite band from when I was a little tyke in the 80’s: Huey Lewis and the News!!! Holy fucking shit I couldn’t have asked for a more ridiculous left-field cover of a song burnt into my heart and soul. Bring it String Cheese, bring the love! The next half hour they wound through more love songs by Sting, Bob Marley, Lenny Kravitz, Sublime, The Black Eyed Peas, Beyonce, Led Zeppelin and more.

It was an amazing set and it ended with me hopping up and down like Tigger ready to buzz on over to the Patch Stage where the Disco Biscuits were starting. I’d seen them once before when my homegirl Sera and I snuck in Boulder Theater together four years ago, their light show was face meltingly amazing and second only to one.2 Things were already popping off when I got to that stage and I danced to a pile of hay that was inside a broken cart installation in the middle of the field. Throwing my bag down I got foot fucking loose and danced till I was dripping in sheets of sweat.

Though the Biscuits are known to sometimes noodle in thin airy trance mode for too long sometimes, tonight they were on needlepoint. An aspect of their show that is unique amongst jam bands is their trend of playing songs ‘inverted’. They play the composed sections of their songs out of order, sometimes starting in the middle or at the end. For this set the only trick like that would be the song ‘42’ which they only played the ending of. It’s a weird gimmick but it definitely adds to the variability of their shows. I went nuts the whole time, till I was almost too tired to rage any longer. The next day was the one work shift I’d have to be on the clock for, but it’d be at the Amphitheater and I’d still see two more sets during the shift.

Come Sunday morning I tried to catch Here Come The Mummies, but they were late in arriving so I skipped on that. Along with Pirate, Ivana & our friend Jon who would be working the beer vending with us we decided to catch one more set of String Cheese before clocking in. They started with an apropos to me “Born On The Wrong Planet”; as a living breathing autonomous planet I know how they feel. And at this point I gotta concede, OK, I’m a String Cheese Incident fan now. You can only call yourself bi-curious for so long. Either you sink it or drink it cause ain’t no sitting on the fence. We twisted, spun and laughed, watching flocks of wandering Waldos rage along. To get to our shift on time we left half way through the set during “Freedom Jazz Dance”. Luckily we’d still hear the rest of the set decently from over at our beer station.

The crowd started pouring into the Amphitheater for ‘Portugal. The Man’ a half hour later when the Cheese set ended. I didn’t know what they sounded like, but soon was bopping my head as I poured out Lagunitas beers. Turned out I even knew one or two of their songs from television shows and iPod commercials. They were sharp live and I’d check their set out next festival we’re both at fo sho. We got to sample the beers we were serving after their show and before Ween, who I was super amped to see. I grew up in Bucks County Pennsylvania where they are also from. I was never deep into their full catalog but I loved the consistent weirdness they always had. And in person it was fun, but kind of mellow. Perhaps they didn’t break out all of their strangest musical oddities. But we raged, spilling as little beer as possible. I didn’t really know the songs they were playing but a good time was had by all.

Photo by: EDM Identity/Bearlosophy

When we got off our shift Griz was just about to start so we all mobbed over there with cups full of the beer we’d been selling. I’d seen him with Gramatik at Global Dance a few years ago and was interested in how he’d sound on his own. It started kind of funky working into a drop with a booming “Fuck Trump” sample echoing out to get the crowd in a frenzy. There was some whack Weezy acapella spliced over one of his beats, I could have lived without the rap – the beat was nice tho. From there it went into some more serous crunchy jamming-a-VCR-into-a-Transformer’s-vagina sounding dub step. This was juxtaposed with his sax playing which was incrediballz. The sky lit up in green lasers like so many lightsabers swinging over our heads. This set was the finale for my music viewing and it was a momentous jumbolarge party!

I had a pocketful of ride tickets after working our shift so I decided to try to catch the second 1/2 of this Griz set on the Ferris Wheel. As I stood in line waiting I met a cool photographer and his lady friends. Griz cued some song I didn’t know about burning an effigy. I started writing up the notes on the set, logging how a big chunk in the middle he’d been playing a minute or so of various 90’s club tunes in rapid succesion. I finally loaded in a gondola just for me and was paused 1/2 way up the height of the ride when the last song of the set came on: “We are the Champions”. I watched the sea of rolledout- on-drugs youth sway and croon along in a scene of universal camaraderie, with totems shaped like Cromulons blinking in yellow LED lights over their heads. They mashed together around the giant wooden sculpture spelling out H U L A in the center of the main lawn. It was a sea of lost kids finding themselves.. in cozy K holes, with funnel cake powder crusted around their nostrils. The music is the limit. They are the champions, I’m sitting at the apex of the carnival ride scribbling in my notebook.

The zood abides.

The night was filled with goodbyes after that. So many friendships that had been made or rekindled were being put on hold again for a return to the ‘real’ world. I knew I’d see my friends again somewhere in timespace. Business cards and emails had already been collected from anyone I intended to follow up with later. I broke fast with Metal Mike & Mynx one last time Monday morning then set myself to the task of hitching out. I got kicked down food, beer, a hash oil pen, bud & water as I stood by the exit hoisting a “Going Going Back Back to Tally Tally!” sign over my head. Someone kicked me $20 for gas cash to offer a ride. So I wound up leaving with that $1 which I came with, plus $20.

Sure, OK.

Eventually a young gal named Ashley picked me up. She was riding with George from Colorado who had seen the Mike Gordon stand in Boulder earlier in the month. I was too exhausted to be jelly so I sloughed onto a pile of myself in the backseat. I was Ashley’s first hitchhiker. To assuage her fears, I promised to not strangle her, as that’d be counterproductive. They told me about other festivals they’d been to recently and cued up Nahko & Medicine for the People’s “Mr Washington.” It was a chillaxing ride that would get me back to Tallahassee and the fuck back to work.

All in all totally worth it. An amazing ride all week. Good people. Shitty people. Music that I liked. Music that other people liked. I recommend the Cheese. I recommend Spirit of the Suwannee as a venue. I recommend Hulaween. Thanks for tuning in to PlanetPhoebe. Till next time, hasta la pasta!!


1.While Space Jesus did perform at this Festival I did not get to see him.

2.Chris Kuroda, the light guy for Phish, referred to as CK5 because of how intrinsically his light show is intertwined into the live show of their jamming. Hands down best light guy in Rock & Roll. Ask Bieber.

3.Check us out on Twitter @SiderealApogee, On Comixology, Amazon and more soon via Advent Comics

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