Taco ‘Bout It: Dancing Like Nobody’s Watching
by Taco Olmstead
photo by Kindones Photography
I love festivals! I am often asked by those outside of festival culture why I love it so much. There is always the assumption of the party atmosphere, the assumption of seeing rock stars do what they do, but really, it’s so much more.
I remember when I was a kid listening to my uncles stories about the 60’s. He would tell me tales of the counter culture, tossing about names like Hoffman and Ginsberg. He was a combat marine and it struck me as odd that he was so enamored by the peace movement. As I grew older, I understood why as I watched the effects of war weigh heavy on his and my fathers health.
He also would tell me stories about the music, especially the dead heads! This intrigued me more as their rebellious nature made it easy for me to identify with. They were anti establishment, they were anti authority and pro love. The whole view was a declaration of personal independence from the rapidly evolving corporate interests of America. I loved it!
I’ll never forget that first time stepping onto a Grateful Dead lot scene! Tie dyed people running everywhere, the scent of patchouli mixed with sweat, beer and charcoal. Hustlers were hustling, jokers were joking and I was just a kid that stepped into a whole new world that was more of a playground of fantasy rather than reality. You didn’t hear any radios playing top forty mainstream music, at worst some classic rock but at best, if it wasn’t the Grateful Dead it was Phish or another jamband that had not yet come to prominence. It was pure magic!
Then along came the H.O.R.D.E. Tour and all those bands I’d never heard of were playing all together on big stages and in big arenas. It was like the festivals we have today but only one day, and void of the mainstream names we see on all the BIG lineups. This was when Dave Matthews Band could only sell a few hundred tickets and Phish was still an opening act. When Jimmy Herring played with ARU and Mikey was alive playing with Panic! It was wonderful because it was all so new, so fresh and so different while still maintaining that anti establishment, “stick it to the man, don’t tell me how to live” attitude.
Now, years later, decades later, I’m still right there. I love the idea that for three or four days I can still go somewhere, dance like nobody is looking, act with no cares and find fresh new music. Except I can’t do that at any festival, I can only do this at smaller scaled down events. I mean sure, I could go to a 20,000 plus person festival and pretend nobody is watching, but really, they are. I could act like I have no cares, but the security team and often the police, will remind me that I need to take care. I could find some new music but when the headliners have been playing for twenty years on the big stage or are being played on every Clear Channel station across the country, it’s really not new or fresh, it’s likely pretty stale by the time it gets to me, submerged in a crowd of people who care little about my community, my culture or any of our own individual freedoms.
I’ve had some grand times at big festivals. I managed to make it to the first three years of Bonnaroo. Besides the torturous walks, ridiculously overused ports johns and overpriced food and beverages, I did find some great new music and great people, but that was 03-05, before Metallica and Kanye.
Nothing though was nearly as grand as the times spent at Wilmer’s Park or even Marvins Mountaintop. Those small festivals where I felt like I had met everyone there, hugged so many strangers and even shared tears. The electricity that courses through the ground at a smaller festival, the vibrations that shake your soul, that’s why I love small festivals so much.
Now, I’m the guy trying to bring young people the magic that I fell in love with. Once upon a time, I thought that magic just happened and somehow all the bills for that party were magically paid. I never thought about somebody, somewhere, sitting behind a closed door may have been losing his home or his savings to create that magic. If that sounds dark or terrible, I’m sorry, but it is the truth. The temptation to shortchange your vision as a festival promoter is always there because that fear is always there. I’d like to think I’ve managed to walk that tight rope these last few years and make the choices that are best for both you, the attendee and for the sustainability of the festival itself.
At the end of the day, the success of The Mad Tea Party Jam will not be counted in mere dollars and ticket stubs, but by the love created over the weekend. When all of the bands and production have been paid, vendors satisfied and checks written, there is no promise of another year without you walking away with love in your hearts for that weekend, that magic that has brought us all together. While I hope you are all pleased with the musical lineup and the artistic delights we present to you, I hope most of all that we give you the escape you needed. I’ll see you June 16th-19th in Artemas, Pennsylvania at The Mad Tea Party Jam. Bring your dancing shoes, because rest assured, besides me and Elise, you can dance like nobody is watching…
