Every year, I attend at least one big-shebang music festival. And at least one time per festival, I hit a mental wall and wonder why I ever submitted myself to such rock 'n' roll torture in the first place. Whether I've been wellie-deep in Glastonbury mud or melting into a Wicked Witch-style sweat puddle in Coachella's 105-degrees-in-the-shade desert heat, I've suffered all sorts of indignities and inconveniences in my quest for festival fun, and sometimes I've pondered if it was all worth it.
But of course, I still wanted to hit up a rockfest this summer. But which one? Chicago's Lollapalooza and Pitchfork would be too muggy. San Francisco's Outside Lands, too windy. New York's All Points West and Seattle's Bumbershoot, too rainy. It was a rock 'n' roll conundrum of Goldilocks-like proportions...
But then I found the festival that was juuuusssst riiiiight: All Tomorrow's Parties in upstate New York's crumbling-yet-charming Catskills area. I mean, just check out this press release
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