E T.
Yelp
At the age of 26, I can say with confidence that I have attended my last music festival (CHBP 2011).
Unless you're ready to throw some serious elbows and shoulder your way through the sweaty crowd, you won't get much bang for your buck at the shows. Stand in the back and you might as well be listening to Battles on a shitty car stereo, but stand in the front, you're putting yourself on the front line. If you're drinking, you'll want to punch 1/2 of the people in attendance. If you're sober, you'll want to punch 3/4 of the people in attendance. Really, you'll probably just want to punch yourself for being in attendance.
The biggest portion of the crowd is only there to see and be seen and they will be ass grabbing, booty shaking and grinding their way right in front of your view of [INSERT BAND NAME HERE]. They will shout over the music, they will dance off tempo, they will suck their partner's face, they will step on your toes. "Ghostland is straight up ladykiller, brah," they say as they high-five over the wasted woman's head and the $8 miller light spills from the plastic dixie-cup sized glass onto your sunburnt arms, but who cares because they're going to get laid tonight. Ugh.
All of this I can pass on. Not to mention, I'm just too old to stand on asphalt for three days straight, especially when I'm all but frisked for carrying a bottle of water that I purchased WITHIN the security gates. CHBP, cheers to you for turning me off of shows for a while. If I want to see a band, I'll see them individually at a venue that's not over priced, not worked by super douchetastic security and not trying to trample me. Before you get any bigger, CHBP, work out the kinks.