These days, music festivals are all the rage; from Shambhala to What The Fest to Coachella, all across the U.S. there are festivals that appeal to everyone’s taste. And why wouldn’t they? With any number of your favorite artists all in the same place, one set price and the so-called “experience” of a lifetime, this is an offer that is hard to pass up. I, too, have found myself at the mercy of the music festival. Spending four days in the Gorge at Sasquatch has been the highlight of my past two summers. I have seen some of my favorite artists and danced with the humans I love the most, and yet, by the end of the weekend, I find myself conflicted about the experience overall.
After dropping over $500 on the ticket, camping, and food alone, one has to ask themselves, how much is an experience worth? When I am forced to pay $10 for a luke-warm bottle of water, or my view is blocked by the latest Budweiser pop-up stage, I can’t help but wonder if any of the money was worth it in the first place.
Now, these may seem like petty things, but hear me out.
Some of my most magical musical encounters have been with the smallest crowds in the off-the-beat venues where you can get up close and personal to the artist. Anyone who has ever had an experience like this can tell you -- it is priceless. There is absolutely nothing comparable to singing alongside strangers who have the same invested emotion and passion for the “experience” of the musician that you do. It is in these moments that the immense gap between you and the other 7 billion people on the planet shrink, even if it is just a little bit.
At Sasquatch, these moments are achievable, but they seem to be few and far between. Not only are you constantly bombarded by any number of sponsoring mega-corporations and the things they want to sell you, but you are faced with a crowd that can be over 1,000 times larger than the average concert that I mentioned above. This means that not only will you have to fight for a spot just to get a good view of the artist, but the intimacy and authenticity is greatly diminished. It is so hard to connect to the moment you are in when you are listening to someone behind you talk about how they would rather be anywhere but here, or when you are being elbowed in the ribs by the too-drunk college kid.
I guess what I am saying is, while these experiences are absolutely incredible, how much are we willing to pay to have them? Are the hundreds of dollars we drop on clothes, booze, and all the other “necessities” of equal measure to the experiences we have? Because I could definitely argue that the $30 I spent to see Ed Sheeran in high school was a night I will never ever forget.
How do we measure the value of an experience? And really, how much are we willing to pay to make that experience happen?
