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Voodoo 2010-- Day 3

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Voodoo Music Experience – 2010 – Day 3


I walk to City Park along the Bayou St. John. People in costumes move en masse along both banks, heading for the festival. There are splattered pumpkins in the street.

I’m getting there later today, having come down with a Voodoo-induced cold. Inside the grounds people seem worn down. Everywhere, the fest-goers sprawl on blankets, towels, grass. The grass itself is dry, dying, and dust fills the air.

The Zydepunks go on at the Bingo! stage. The sound tech in the booth strings a sheet up to the tent in order to block the sun, props his feet on the soundboard and takes a nap.

Over at the Sony stage, people sit on blankets and listen to the Airborne Toxic Event. I see three girls that I know. They have each incurred injuries over the course of the festival. One sprained ankle, one lacerated foot, one stress fracture.

Janelle Monae seems unhampered by the third day hangover, though, as she sings and dances around the Soco/WWOZ stage. She’s engendered a large crowd, and people can’t help but get into it. She leaps from the stage and the crowd parts, letting her sashay all the way to the sound booth and back. People jump in behind her, follow her lead.

Big Freedia stops by the Toyota promotions tent. A party ensues, live on WTUL. Afterward, she takes photos with people and says very sweet things to all of them.

I’ve been told that there is an open bar somewhere behind the Bingo! stage, but security continually thwarts my efforts to find it. They won’t let me beyond the work area set up for the media. If there was once a bar here, there is no longer.

I catch the beginning of MGMT’s set. The band members come out costumed as Scooby Doo characters. They’ve pulled a huge crowd and many sing along. A kid asks me if I know where he can find mushrooms. I don’t.

I leave the Sony stage in order to witness the sissy bounce set over at Bingo! Big Freedia returns, along with Katey Red, and a trio of on-stage dancers who turn around, bend over, and make their asses bounce. Some crowd members seem familiar with sissy bounce, make their own asses wobble. Most watch with a mixture of humor and astonishment.

The sun has gone down, and as the bounce set ends my energy for the weekend has waned. I won’t make it to My Morning Jacket’s set. I am not alone. I’ll join the throng of people dragging their feet out of City Park, and I’ll walk home in the dark amid the trick-or-treaters. There is a Saints game to watch, and Halloween celebrations to attend.

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