I'm pretty weary this morning as I write about yesterday's great bands. I was kept awake all night last night by a group of campers who were still keyed up after George Clinton's fantastic set. These folks brought their own karaoke setup and some would-be rapper laid really bad rhymes on us. I finally got a couple of hours sleep after security pulled the plug on them after two warnings.
Last weekend I had the good fortune of attending the Mile High Music Festival in Denver, or more appropriately Commerce City, Colorado. This year was the festival's inaugural year, and as far as I could tell, the affair went off without a hitch. And I love festivals. There is something savory about the vibe put off by people at a festival, something uniquely and honestly human. Even though the weather is hot, even though there are lines for the bathroom, lines for food, lines to buy tee shirts, even