Maybe a slow start to the second go-around in Georgetown 2013, as the lot a mere mile away from Shadow Mountain Ranch, fills up to the gills up. My photo companion and I sit on the bumper of our car and watch one impatient contender slump by, dragging a cherry kayak several paces behind him. We try to console the eager bro, but he’s determined for Sonic Bloom 2013 to get under way. After revealing his Leadville roots he rambles on, “I’m gonna’ kayak the f*** in, even though I have a ticket; and I’m gonna’ get kicked the f*** out, but I’m tired of waiting”, before hastily dipping in for the voyage. We salute the brave soul from the shore and turn our focus towards our own journey, now on the precipice of blossoming.
Shadow Mountain Ranch teases from the distance as we bounce along the frontage road in a rigged out school bus, lined with couches. It’s been quite a Thursday, but we have only just started after stepping out of the bus. A quick trip up the mountain to the artist tents to set up camp, then back on down to the Bloom Stage (main stage) where the opening ceremonies are underway. So, we approach the stage and I’m floored by what I see. Every person is in a circle, standing perfectly silent, hand-in-hand. Minutes pass as the people of Sonic Bloom decompress in silence; maybe a gentle reminder to forget everything we left behind and mindfully live in the present.
Eight o’clock approaches and Sunsquabi, a Boulderite electronic-blues trio, takes the stage by funky hail-storm. The crowd is revved after the hour long groove-sesh in a “this-is-what-we’ve-been-waiting-for” fashion. As Love and Light get ready for their turn, we hear Papa Skunk at the Codome (secondary/ dance stage) begin to rage a set, sending the sun on a very swift goodnight. What I was yet to discover however, was this; the festival is not in full bloom until the sun goes down and the scene is shrouded in a haze like perfume and smoke. My cohort and I then took a moment to get lost, to see what we could come across. Shortly I fell victim to an abstract structure made from fiction paperbacks, sticks and twigs, intricately placed. To an ant, the structure could have been an ancient Aztechian temple built long ago by their sacrilegious ancestors. Just down the path, we watch as several folk get their souls tamed in a gong circle that can only be described as serene. A couple quick stops to check out the local hat and festival pin vendors, then we truck back to Bloom Stage where Phuturprimitive is locked and loaded.
Phuturprimitive modestly turns the dirt into hot lava before doing an icy remix of the song Teardrop by Massive Attack, that resonates through the forests of Georgetown. After brushing their shoulders off, PP hands the mic over to Minnesota to close out the night at the Bloom Stage. We make notice to dip out for a moment and half-skip to the Hummingbird Stage to pay our respect to Chemdawgz before returning just in time to catch the last dance party of Thursdays sets.
Friday’s sunrise beckons me out of my tent for round two at Sonic Bloom. Coffee is on my mind but the conversation is more stirring at that moment than the darkest brew. A colorful array of people inhabit Shadow Mountain Ranch this weekend and they all have a story to tell of their trips, their falls, and their risings once again. We skip breakfast straight to lunch and watch the wrap-ups of the morning yoga and other appropriated workshops. Then it’s time to prepare for tonight’s chaotic ensembles from the likes of Nunchuck, Mr. Bugatti, The Acidophiles, Goosebumpz, Prophet Massive and Random Rab. As the night beckons my cohort and I, we check out the Codome where we meet up with some painters who use fluorescent paints that can only be seen in the moonlight, on a night like that one. Jonesing for my art fix, we travel up the trail to watch some glass blowers working vigilantly over an open flame. We watch for what felt like an hour, completely mesmerized under the craftsman’s disciplined pivots of the hot glass in his fingertips.
The musical feast is bountiful that night and the crowd eats until they’ve had their fill and then some. We take our time to tread each corner of every trail, to leave not one stone unturned or un-stacked. Across the pond, the Bloom Stage bounces waves of light off the glassy surface of the water, where I have no choice but to throw up my arms up and give in to the resonance of such a rare sight in such a fair place. The night reluctantly turns into day and the crowd has no choice but to subside and scatter back to their nesting holes for a quick nap before round three.
The crowd is slow to rise on Saturday, but we manage to catch some folks on the slack lines, assuring themselves that their equilibriums remain in tact. Reluctant to try myself, we pander on to find some grub and gather ourselves for the day’s shows and pre-cursor interviews with non other than Bluetech, Cedar and Random Rab. Granola Bars are scarfed down and we hit the Media tent a little early to get our mits on some sonic juice and organic fixings. The artists roll in moments later and the interviews ensue in a very mellow fashion. Oregonian Rab, takes a moment to discuss his creative process in a few words; “this is it”. For Random Rab the music he enjoys making is translated from music that he listens to, a lot of which is made by his friends. The Hawaiian bred Bluetech makes the argument that “there isn’t really a scene in Hawaii” and that is what makes his particular style more unique. For Bluetech it’s about more than music as he jokes, “I’ll only stay in music as long as it keeps me in plants”. Further BT believes in the strength of natural food and medicine without the interventions of GMO’s that create unnatural byproducts. A shimmering moment arises when the three talk about how much they enjoy these festivals in the heart of nature, but dislike how the yield can be less than desirable. Although Bluetech is optimistic about the future and political climate, he wishes it were less about group “consciousness” and more so directed at our “home communities”. “I’m glad we have what we have, but unless we share it, it’s not worth anything and it goes away”. Not long after, Bluetech takes the stage and with it, the crowd. He lays down some symphonic beats; a little bit of the old and new for all the boys and girls of Shadow Mountain Ranch to crunch on.
Ah but yet again the night has only just begun with the likes of Zilla, Vibesquad, Mat the Alien, Gaudi, Thriftworks and Random Rab still to enter the stage. One more gulp of sonic juice for courage and back we go into the dusk to feel out the vibes of the night. A quick stop at a hut where fluorescent night-caps were begging to be worn by some heady (pun intended) folk, ready to party til’ sun up. Back to the Codome where Mat the Alien was enticing the crowd to spin around their light up hula-hoops, creating a spectacular array of dancing lights. The night speeds onward at a sonic pace until a glint of light can be seen peaking over the canyon wall. Thriftworks rolls out the red carpet for the morning and sets the table for Random Rab’s three hour sunrise breakfast set. All those who can still stand gather at the Codome and roll to-and-fro with the numbing beats that Rab lays down. With the sun high over head and Rab winding down, we take a nap as it rains over Georgetown, washing the remaining blues away.
With Sunday, the tide withered as groups of the encampment threw in the towel with the rain. Those that remained would be treated to possibly the most diverse sets including The Human Experience, Akara, Robotic Pirate Monkey, Sasha Rose and the Sonic Bloom Orchestra. A light walk around the site was what we needed to feel out last night’s vibes and truly put a capstone on this spectacle of wonderment.
The music seemed lighter that day, but maybe it was just me that was lighter. It occurred to me that in all the time spent at Sonic Bloom I had managed to shed off some layer of sediment that clung to me like Liken to a rock. I then thought of what Bluetech had said. Is all the love and consciousness worth it if we are selfish in sharing it? It’s not a question that dares be answered before you can open yourself up, possibly at a sonic pace.