Camp Bisco Recap

Friday started out beautiful until the rain clouds started drifting in during the early afternoon. The festival goers didn’t seem to mind though, as Dr. Dog played to an increasingly large crowd for the duration of their extended set. The bands’ grassroots psych-rock was a fitting start to Friday, as the lineup got increasingly more electronic throughout the day. Next up on the main stage was K’naan, a Somalian world musician who also turned out a great set. I ducked out of K’naan a little early to catch BoomBox, a rising electronic jam band fronted by the flamboyantly dressed Zion Rock Godchaux (son of Keith & Donna Godchaux of The Grateful Dead). The duo put on a stellar set heavy on material from their debut album Visions of Backbeat, but also threw in a hypnotizing cover of “Shakedown Street” by The Grateful Dead, much to the audience’s (and my) delight. Friday also included a set by Twisted Records’ all-star group Younger Brother (Simon Posford aka Shpongle), Benji Vaughn, and the Disco Biscuits’ bassist Marc Brownstein. I enjoyed the set for the most part, despite some slight sound issues. Nas & Damian Marley also performed Friday evening, but the torrential rains drove us back to our campsite before we got to see much of their set.

A major observation at Camp Bisco was the amount of cross-pollination between the jam band and electronic scene going on these days. It’s spawned a new breed of followers, a combination of hippies and pseudo-gangsters, many of which control the drug trade at these festivals. Whether they’re beneficial or detrimental to the scene depends on who you talk to, but I saw/heard of a ton of really gross drugs while there…aka not the kinds of drugs you necessarily want to be around. Shit, I was surprised when I actally heard kids selling pot. We were even “fortunate” enough to wake up Saturday morning to our next door tent neighbors shooting heroin while mixing cutting agents into a mystery powder that they were bagging up to sell. Not an idyllic way to start up your Saturday morning at a festival, that’s for sure (and enough to make us pack up our shit and split, immediately). 

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not bitching about the state of festival culture, or the people who keep it alive. I know what I’m getting myself into each time I choose to attend one of these, but it’s sad seeing these kids (as young as 15-16) buying gross cut-up drugs off these shady neo-hippie junkies. I dunno, maybe I’m just getting old, but I remember attending these festivals 10 years ago, and the scene was way more pure back then. So yeah, after waking up to our neighbors shooting up Saturday morning, we decided to take off. That was enough for us to choose to skip the day’s festivities. Wish I could report on how the late night, DFA-curated tent with Holy Ghost and the LCD Soundsystem DJs was, but alas, I can’t. Thank the junkies, folks. 

Here are some additional notes on my time at Camp Bisco…

• High Point: Hanging w/ Dr. Dog’s dog (a super cute Golden Retriever) 
• Low Point: Tent springing a leak during Friday night’s monsoon, which resulted in me sleeping in a pool of water
• Weirdest/Scariest Point: Being searched by the Biker Gang every time we entered the grounds (the Bikers rented their compound to The Disco Biscuits for the festival AND were “acting security” …yikes!)
• Grossest Point: Waking up to the neighbors shooting dope, hands down.
• Epic FAIL: Damian Marley staring at me while using my rolling machine to roll cigarettes.
• Quote of the Weekend: “What the fuck, Dr. Dog only played one song!” – confused kid (probably on mushrooms) who caught Dr. Dog’s soundcheck and thought that “that was it”