Music Midtown

Well crap. I was going to write about this forever ago. Let’s see if I can remember anything… This will just be a highlights (lowlights?) post, anyway. I’ll try to keep it short. Ha! Good luck with that one!!

As you know, Mr. T and I went to Bonnaroo this year. Hopefully you know what Bonnaroo is? We had never been before, even though we’ve lived near it our entire lives. People were shocked when she said we’d never been before. “Where are you from?” “Murfreesboro – about an hour away.” “Oh, so you’ve probably come every year, then?!” “Yeah, no…first year!” “WHAT?!?!?!?!” <- That conversation happened a lot. Anyway. Everyone talks about how great Bonnaroo is – the sense of community and all that. I’m not saying that didn’t happen, but I think Mr. T and I were just overwhelmed with the whole “live in a tent, no showers, use port-a-potties for four days” thing and weren’t as aware as we maybe should’ve been. At any rate we didn’t appreciate it enough. Because Music Midtown was a totally different experience.

First of all, Bonnaroo is is freaking Manchester, TN. If you haven’t heard of it, don’t worry – no one has, except for the people that live there and people that go to Bonnaroo. Music Midtown is in Atlanta. It’s also only a day festival – you show up in the late morning/early afternoon and stay until around midnight, then leave. Do the same thing the next day. We have friends that live in Atlanta, so we stayed with them. So we got to eat real food, take showers, and sleep on a fold-out couch. Which was amazing. But that also meant everyone was doing that. So people who can’t handle camping for four days will be there. That translates into older people, younger people, and prissier people than what you see a Bonnaroo.

The first indication that this would go down much, much differently happened as soon as we walked in. Mr. T had to pee (omg that man has to pee every 30 minutes, I swear) so we head over to the port-a-potties. Standing in line behind us are teenage girls and they have this conversation:

“Well, I’m not going to put my hair up until we get at least one picture! Or…I could just take it back down for pictures.”

[…time passes…]

“I wish I had a crop-top!”

“I have a crop-top.”

“You do?! What color is it?? Can I borrow it?”

“It’s pink.”

“!!!!! I can wear it with my black skirt tomorrow!”

[…time passes…]

“Who is Cake?”


There wasn’t much we wanted to see on Day 1, so we just chilled and explored the area. Now, people complained about how commercialized Bonnaroo had become. Since Mr. T and I had never been before, I didn’t think it was all that bad. Maybe it was, I dunno. But it was nothing compared to Music in the Middle. NOTHING there was ad-free. Every booth, every tent – everything – had a corporate sponsor. When there wasn’t a band on the stage, they played ads on the screens. It was insanity.

Cake was amazeballs. If we hadn’t experienced that, the entire trip would’ve been a bust. We got right up close to the action and it was glorious.


After the show we discovered something else about the people at Music Midtown. They’re trashy. And not just the chick that took her top off during the show and flashed her boobs at everyone (true story). These people were hardcore litterbugs. Because we were in the very front, we had to wait until the crowd cleared out before we could leave. Oh, that’s another thing – Cake, a band that has been around for TWENTY YEARS and has a fan base that spans generations, was put on the 3rd stage. The red-headed stepchild of stages. I didn’t see it, but Smithy left about halfway through the show and said the crowd was huge. And they were on a stage with no screens. Idiots. But back to the trash. As we turned to leave, all we could see was garbage. Seriously, there was more litter visible than there was grass. And there were trash cans everywhere! That weren’t even full! People were just lazy slobs. It was so disheartening. We picked up a ton of it on our way out, throwing it in cans as we passed them. We saw a few others doing the same.

This has gone on too long already, so I’ll just hit a few more items of note that happened on Day 2. First of all, it rained. Like…a lot. It got gross. Super gross. But that’s no one’s fault. Here is a list of things that are:

  1. There were not enough port-a-potties. Seriously. If you left to go pee (as Mr. T do) you’d miss half a set, because the lines were just that long. And these things got GROSS. For real. Two days! It was only two days! And there were several hours where no one was there at all!! And these got way more disgusting than the ones at Bonnaroo. The festival that lasted four days and no one could leave. They were out of TP before the end of Day 1.
  2. Speaking of gross port-a-potties… Mr. T and I were in line to use them. He got in one line and I got in the one beside him. We were racing to see who got to pee first. 8} Anyway, I was behind this guy who had a European accent. I’m bad at identifying accents, but he liked futbol and was talking to these two chicks in the line beside us (so it went them, me, Mr. T from left to right) about it. Turns out they were from Nashville! I thought about commenting to them about how we were from the same area, since they seemed friendly. Decided not to, because whatever. Anyway, we got up to the front and they realized their port-a-potty was gross (they were all gross) so she goes. “Okay, this is how it’s going to go.” (talking to the European guy) “We’re going to get behind you.” And, because I was standing so close to him, she could only reach over and put her hand on his shoulder to signify she was next in line. INSTAPISSED. I look over to Mr. T (up until this point I had been winning the “race”) and he could tell. He asked what was going on and I said (very loudly) “These two BITCHES just cut in front of me! AND they’re from Nashville, so we’re probably their neighbors or something!” After that the conversation stopped. But I didn’t take my eyes off of them until they were gone. Super glare for the next 5-10 minutes. Not to mention I was (TMI ahead) on my period, and all my tampons had gotten soaked. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that Mr. T had to leave, buy more, and come back. Which leads me to my second story involving port-a-potties…
  3. When Mr. T finally got back with my tampons, off I went on another half-hour adventure. This was the first time I had gone off on my own, for the record. It was dark and had rained all day. Not to mention they had way over-sold tickets. But I’ll get to that in a minute. I’m walking down the sidewalk when I feel this hand on my shoulder. I’m like “Did Mr. T or Smithy decide to come with me?” But when I look back I see some bro that I don’t recognize. He doesn’t even look at me, just gets me by the hood of my rain jacket and PULLS ME BACK OUT OF THE WAY so he has his slut sorority sister girlfriend can get past me. OH HELL NO. I stand there for a second, stunned, and then go into overdrive. I book. it. to catch up to them and the SHOVE them – hard – as I storm past. It was so satisfying. My heart rate has increased just remembering these two incidents, by the way. Something about music festivals makes me feisty. lol!
  4. Alright, I mentioned there were 3 stages, right? One was way off by itself and the other two were right beside each other. Seriously. So close one band couldn’t start until the other had stopped. Which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. Next to Cake being on the tiny tucked-away stage, anyway. So the final night they have Queens of the Stone Age on the left stage, to be followed by their big headliner Red Hot Chili Peppers on the right stage. Let me ask you something, though. After you’ve seen a band that you really, truly love – they’ve played their set and this magical night is about to come to a close – what happens? Do you just let them walk off the stage, pack up their things, and leave? NO! You demand they come back! “One! More! Song! One! More! Song!” I don’t fault you for this – I do it too! Cake came back for us. And at Bonnaroo Paul f*cking McCartney did about eleventy-billion encores. So did Weird Al, actually. EVERYONE does. That’s the best part!! So I don’t fault you, Queens of the Stone Age – you or your fans. But your show did not finish on time. It went over by a good 10-15 minutes, actually. I get it, you got caught up in the moment. But someone – SOMEONE – from Music Midtown should have had a walkie-talkie and found out that RHCP was about to begin and told you “Enough is enough – your time is up.” Because you played over about half of RHCP’s first song. Which was apparently Mr. T’s favorite song by them. I personally am “meh” about RHCP, but Mr. T was as excited for them as he was for Cake. Between that, the awful sound quality, and all the over-edited footage on the screens, he was ready to leave about 3 songs in. I made him stay for a few more (Me! The one who wanted to leave before they even began!) just because he was so bummed. And it did get better. But not by much.
  5. Let’s talk about those screens. Listen, if I want to watch a music video I’ll go to MTV. Ahahahahaha! Not really – I’ll watch it on YouTube. No one watches MTV anymore. Not for music, anyway. But the point is, those screens are there so people who can’t get close enough to see the band can STILL SEE THE BAND. It’s not for  you to go crazy with your fancy camera’s special effects! Black and white! No, let’s make it inverted! Inverted and blue! Add lasers! Just…no. Tone it down some, okay? At least make sure the people are still recognizable.
  6. Now let’s discuss the crowds. They sold way too many tickets. Way too many. The area for the two main stages was full. Like…totally full. I didn’t take pictures because of the rain. But you know how when you’re up near the front of a show and it’s impossible to move around because of all the people? That’s how it was all the way back to the treeline. Where we were. Sitting. People were tramping through, trying to get closer (Um, way too late, guys – gtfo), stepping on us and all our things. One woman was being extremely nice about it, up until this drunk a-hole stepped right on her blanket. Then she went ballistic. He had like four people following him and she was like “NO!” So he called her an a**hole and things almost got ugly. But holy f, people. Show some respect! Of course when we tried to leave there was absolutely no. way. to get out, so now we were the dicks and people were saying terrible things to us. >.<
  7. What else can I complain about? The crazy prices for the drinks? Beers were $10. We got double-shots of jack and coke. Two double-shots were $30. Not cool. We only ate there once, but it was fairly reasonably priced. BBQ with beans and fries. I don’t remember the exact price, but they had all the condiments off to the side and had plenty of them, so that was cool. The BBQ was almost burnt, though, and there was some fatty bits.
  8. Also, on Day 2 the “scanners stopped working” so they just let people in. At least that’s their story. What actually happened was it was POURING down rain, the lines were miles long because they only had like 2 ticket scanners per entrance for the way oversold event, and people got pissed and pulled the fence down. By the time we got there they had given up and were just “hold your tickets up!” and let everyone through.

I think I’ve complained enough. My word count is over 2k! Go me!! Here are some pictures:

This was on our way to the park on Day 2. We were never this happy again. That’s Hagrid and Sammie – they’re our friends that live in ATL but didn’t attend Music Midtown with us. Even though they could have gotten in on Day 2…

Music Midtown

Smithy and I waiting on Mr. T to pee. It was super rainy so I had my phone in a ziplock bag.

Music Midtown

This is right before the sun went down. It had finally stopped raining, but the ground was saturated, and so were we. I was ready to go home at this point. I think we all were.

Music Midtown

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