The story takes place on the magical farm of Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival in the secluded town of Manchester, Tennessee. It was the final day of the 4 day event in which a couple of friends and I volunteered to pickup trash after each day of the festival in the mornings. In exchange, we got to attend the festival free of charge along with being granted many amenities over the week such as free showers and meals. Over that extended weekend I saw LOLAWOLF, Goldlink, Cashmere Cat, Vince Staples, Flossstradamus, Tyler the Creator, Tame Impala, Death Cab for Cutie, and many other popular musicians. The band I had not mentioned was Dead and Company (The Grateful Dead with John Mayer) who were headlining the last day of the festival with a 4 hour set!

So that Sunday morning, I eagerly crawled out of my tent to begin my last full day on the farm. As we began our volunteer shift that morning we were assigned to clean up the aftermath of Pearl Jam’s endless grunge set from the night before. This is what the average main stage crowd looked like so you can get an idea on how dirty a venue can get.

During my trash shift though, I noticed a particularly intriguing opportunity that I had once read and seen about in an MTV Documentary “No Cameras Allowed”. Though this film has since then been claimed as fake and unauthentic to the direction it leads its viewers, I took great inspiration behind Marcus Haney’s documented adventures of sneaking backstage at festivals. I peeked over a short fence to get a better glance at what possible security I could run into if I continued to walk back along the edge of the pit for the stage. It appeared as if only a few irrelevant staff members were where I was headed so I quickly began walking as if I belonged behind the stage. As I began moving along backstage, I learned that security was much more relaxed in the mornings. I made it

directly behind the stage and began to wonder where I could possibly get to from where I was and who I could meet. I suddenly became alarmed by a couple of guards as they quickly began striding in my direction with a grimacing look on their faces. Instead of panicking, I just remained still like I belonged and was busy inspecting some random backstage item. I proceeded to take off my volunteer shirt and wrap it around my wrist containing my wristband that was much different from the other people I was around. As the guards moved past me, I decided that the broad daylight was probably not the best place for me to be hanging by myself and that I should get situated in a secluded area to get a plan together. I laid down underneath a random small bridge connecting two areas of backstage and began quietly giggling at the possibilities for the rest of the day. I had no clue what was going to happen or how long I could manage to stay backstage, but all I knew was that I was extremely hungry and thirsty having not eaten since the previous afternoon and it

was now around two or three o’clock. I walked over to a small white tent off to the side of the left wing of the stage and found a reasonable selection of healthy snacks and drinks. I sat down in the shade as sweat poured down my neck and back as the overwhelming, hot Tennessee Summer sun beamed down on me. Suddenly, I was approached by a man in all black who gave me a strange look. He spoke out to me with a crackling, raspy skater voice asking something along the lines of “Hey man who are you?” I quickly answered with the first response my scattering brain came up with. “I’m Tracey’s friend.”I stated. “Tracey? Who is that?” he muttered in a questioning tone? “Oh you don’t know the rapper, Goldlink? I am just used to calling him his real name. We went to high school together.” I quickly responded with a confident grin. I began to learn that the man I thought was security was actually a roadie traveling with a company that put on many festivals and he spent his time with them and doing all things set up and tear down for the many different shows. I began to use his knowledge of backstage festival areas to gain some insight on how I was going to manage to see any shows from the stage. As he began explaining all the rules and dynamics pertaining to the backstage environment of Bonnaroo, another man dressed similar to the roadies approached me. As he got closer I realized his appearance was much more significant then that of the roadies having a stage director credential wrapped around his neck. “Get back to working. I know its hot but we only got eight more hours of this hell hole and we’re on to the next one.” he shouted directly at us. Then the question I was expecting arose again. “Who are you?” he sternly asked. I repeated to him the same backstory I had used to convince the roadie I was where I was supposed to be and to my surprise, the Tracey’s friend story succeeded once again. The man shook my hand and politely greeted me again in an apologetic tone for approaching me in such a loud manner. He then told me to enjoy looking around stage and was on his way. I was set. I had now met many of the roadies and explained to them my real story of sneaking past security to get backstage with hopes of seeing Dead and Company from the best seats in the house in a couple of hours. They quickly rounded up some supplies for what they thought I would need to be convincing enough to remain on stage during such an important and exclusive performance. They gave me an all black outfit to match that of the rest of the stage equipment staff along with gloves and a name badge we had scavenged off of the singer Charles Bradley who had performed much earlier that day on the main stage. As eight o’clock finally rolled around, I slowly began merging onto the very far side of the stage. I continued to inch my way up to the technical booth in line with the performers place center stage. My good luck had not ran out yet, and I managed to get

all the way out onto the stage without encountering any problems. I sat there in utter awe as Bob Weir and John Mayer slowly walked towards the two microphones waiting in the middle of the perfectly lit up, psychedelia influenced stage on top of many vintage rugs stacked along each other. The crowd full of Deadheads from all generations began to let out a ear-splitting roar of cheers for the rock legends as they began to strike the chords for the first song effortlessly. It was these next four hours where I spent my time mingling with members of the band’s family and close friends, staff of Redbull Media House broadcasting the festival live, gave the female vocalist of The Grateful Dead, Donna Godchaux, a massage, and even played around with a remote controlled camera cable system ran by two brothers running their own film and media production company: Beacon Media Group. These guys are extremely cool and on a side note, I have more stories to come including them and a potential upcoming opportunity for Austin City Limits Music Festival. (Ryan and Kris if you’re somehow reading this whats up lol) That night was the first time I got a glimpse into the life I dream for myself and will always be a reminder for me of what I want to accomplish in my life and who I want to be. There was absolutely nothing cooler than standing maybe 15 feet away from multiple iconic rock legends as they happily sang out the countless hits from over the years while the crowd harmonized in unison. It was a night I could never forget, and have hopes that I will be able to do this for a full time career soon enough shooting live music photography. Thanks for reading.

Peace and Love,

Colt