Identity in college is a tumultuous abstraction for anyone, and I am no exception. But if there are three things I know about myself, they’re that I love music, I love dancing and I don’t do well in crowds. About one year ago, I found a wonderful exception to that last descriptor. During NSU spring break, I flew back to my home state of Louisiana and attended BUKU Music & Art Project, an annual New Orleans music festival. I was lucky enough to experience high energy performances, heavy bass, new artists and awesome people.
Before college, parental restriction and lack of an automobile kept me from enjoying the live music scene, but after seeing The Wonder Years live in Fort Lauderdale, I acquired a thirst for more. A friend from back home encouraged me to join her at BUKU, and with the unquestionably rich lineup, I couldn’t say no. I rolled up my pennies and splurged on a plane ticket and two day pass.
I’ve always been into fashion and art, so even before I entered festival grounds, I was already loving the culture. Lots of music festivals, especially ones that heavily feature electronic music, draw in attendees who create stunning costumes, similar to what you might see at a dance performance. Groups of friends might craft costumes around themes like “circus” or “ocean”. My friend and I didn’t stick to any particular theme, but we “matched” crazy patterns and sparkly tops, slapped on googly eyes and glitter and headed in ready to rage.
Entering the festival grounds was like walking into another world made entirely of art and color. Since we arrived before any act we wanted to watch, we wandered around looking through the art booths, which we were well-stocked with wrapped crystals, pashminas and paintings. The artist Spag Heddy was my first set, and I found myself feeling out of place. Despite my wild outfit and sparkly skin, it seemed like everyone around me was so much more comfortable with themselves than me. I didn’t want to dance because I felt like everyone would judge my awkward, rhythmless movements, so I stayed in my head and just enjoyed the music. After staying near the same stage to catch the beginning of White Night Ganja’s set, my friend and I headed over to another stage to see MGMT.
I felt a little better there — the previous stage was indoors, and this one was outside. The sun was setting, and I could sing along to songs I knew seeing a band I’ve known for years. Still, I couldn’t get everyone else out of my head. I tried to have full-out fun, but I kept hearing these guys next to us trash talking MGMT’s new music and criticising the show. The next acts, SNAILS and SZA, went by without much incident, and I was elated to find a new artist I liked with SNAILS. I let loose a little more when I saw Alison Wonderland, who is now one of my favorite DJs. Towards the end, I started to forget about the people around me and just feel the music.
The second day, I was determined to make my experience more like the energetic end of the day than the anxious beginning. I heard Hippie Sabotage’s music for the first time with my friend, but since I didn’t know the music too well, I didn’t go all out dancing. Then, exactly what I needed to happen, happened. My friend separated from me to see Lil Uzi Vert with her boyfriend, and I found my way to Emo Nite LA, who described themselves as neither a band nor DJs but party-throwers for those who love angsty music. Hearing remixes and throwback songs like “Mr. Brightside” and “Build God, Then We’ll Talk” gave me a sense of belonging I’d yet wholly felt the whole festival. I forgot about everyone around me and jerked my body around without sense of time or humility. I carried that feeling with me through the last two acts of the night, another two of my now-favorite artist: Bassnectar and REZZ.
It may have taken me a full day to let go of my self-consciousness, but I certainly left it at the festival. Now, I jump at the chance to attend any concert or festival, and I hardly think of anything but what an amazing time I’m having while there.
