Every time I go to a music festival, I figure it’s my last one, but somehow I ended up at the Memphis in May music festival two weeks ago.
My role at these festivals is essentially teen chaperone. What is it about teenagers and music festivals? They love them. I liken it to a herd of antelopes with a smartphone stuck on their horn.
I do like checking out the scene, especially if I have never been before. The Memphis festival was at the Tom Lee Park right along the Mississippi River. Although I have lived in Mississippi all my life, I have never really spent a couple of days hanging out on the banks of this mighty river. That was attractive.
Still, I should have done my research. I was amazed to learn you couldn’t bring folding chairs. They expect everyone to stand for eight hours? Turns out, they ban chairs so they can charge twice as much for VIP areas where you can sit. That’s a big negative.
We were halfway to Memphis when daughter Ruth informs me the main act she wanted to hear started late on Sunday. Thus ensued a running battle about departure time. Again, always better to do your research up front.
I did look into the weather, which was supposed to be dry and pleasant. The minute we got there one nasty thundercloud drenched the park, leaving it a wet muddy mess. When the rain cleared up, the sun came out and the temperature exceeded the forecast by a good seven degrees.
The setting itself was quite nice. The park is beautiful with scenic views of the river all along its length.
The music was all genres, but mainly contemporary. There was soul, blues, country, rock and fusion-type contemporary pop.
Years ago, I bought some very discreet flesh colored earplugs but of course I left them at home. Earplugs allow you to actually understand the lyrics above the distortion caused by too much volume.
Generally, volume control was reasonable. The number one problem at these things is deaf soundmen who crank the music up thinking everyone is as deaf as they are. But, of course, most of us haven’t had our ears stretched out by hundreds of concerts.
The bass drum volume was the worst. You could feel the thumps on your chest, making it hard to hear the more complex bass guitar lines.
Most of the acts I had never heard of, which isn’t saying much. I haven’t been enamored much with modern music over the last decade or two. It is way too formulaic, boring and unoriginal. And that was on full display.
A couple of the acts were just horrible. Two female acts dressed in outlandish costumes and bounced around the stage with enthusiasm, but I could hold a better tune.
Most annoying were the little speeches between the songs, often filled with expletives and life advice that was either decadently bad or hopelessly trite. Shut up and sing! Keep the verbiage to introducing the band if you must.
But the worst is the forced singalong when nobody knows the words or wants to sing along. There’s nothing quite as embarrassing as a band trying to pump up a hot and tired crowd.
Ginny and I were in the top five percent of age. About half the folks our age were teen chaperones. The other half were dyed-in-the-wool music lovers who were snubbing Father Time. Got to admire those people.
By far, the biggest age group was teenagers, followed by twenty- and thirty-somethings.
The crowd definitely looked different from a New Orleans Jazz Fest crowd. Hard to say exactly how, but I can tell a Memphis crowd from a New Orleans crowd. They just look different. Slightly different bloodlines.
Wardrobes were pretty drab by music festival standards, although a few people dressed up in funny outfits. Ginny made me wear my last remaining Grateful Dead T-shirt. Not only did the T-shirt have a Mississippi River theme (Huck Finn) but it was from one of the last Grateful Dead concerts in Memphis. I got 20 compliments!
The prevalence of tattoos on young people was disturbing. I remember one young woman who couldn’t have been out of her teens, covered in tattoos. I cringe to think what will happen in 20 years when she grows weary of this permanent sign of her youthful impulsiveness.
On a positive note, downtown Memphis is happening! Restaurants galore. People on the streets. Beautiful Main Street is a pedestrian street like they have in Europe.
Maybe there is hope for Jackson. Maybe we could make Capitol Street in Jackson like Main Street in Memphis one day.
