My Experience at a Post-Pandemic Music Festival
Plus vaccine passports, San Francisco, and legal-but-technically-not-allowed marijuana.
February 2020, Long Beach, California. My wife and I were attending One Love Cali Reggae Fest, a three-day music festival. Under the shadow of the Queen Mary, we enjoyed some uplifting reggae music and the energy of the crowd. The weather was warm (at least compared to my home state of Utah) weed smoke filled the air, and for the moment we had nothing to worry about. I would’ve never guessed that very soon events like that one would almost become a thing of the past.
Fast forward to March 2020, not even a full month later, and life was already starting to seem much more complicated. Even though Covid-19 had been in China for months, and was currently moving through other parts of the globe, including certain areas in the U.S., it hadn’t really affected my life or the world around me. That all changed on March 13 when then-governor of Utah Gary Herbert announced there would be no gatherings of over a hundred people for at least two weeks. Not long after that, the several concerts I had tickets for, and all the ones I was hoping to go to, either got canceled outright or got postponed only to be canceled later. The era of lockdowns had begun.
For the record, I understand that there are far worse aspects of this pandemic than live music being put on hold. More than 4.9 million people have died worldwide, including over 700,000 U.S. citizens, according to Worldometer. I personally had many coworkers, friends, and family members contract the virus, some of whom almost didn’t make it. I’m very fortunate to have felt such a light impact compared to so many others, and I am in no way conflating the loss of life with the loss of live shows.
However, I also acknowledge that every hardship we’ve faced over the last 19 months deserves recognition. The industries deemed nonessential took most of the hit when our brilliant politicians decided to close half our economy. Many people took to ordering take out and delivery not just out of an attempt to avoid going out, but also out of a desire to help struggling restaurants. Unfortunately, other than donations and virtual performances, there wasn’t a lot we could do for the entertainment industry.
Most people probably picture wealthy rockstars and comedians who could’ve easily survived the economic turmoil. Fewer people think about the roadies, sound engineers, bus drivers, the people who sit in a hot booth all day to sell you a $12 beer, or even the artists who haven’t gotten to that level of success yet. Anyone who claims to care about the working class but also approved of the lockdowns seemingly misunderstood who the lockdowns hurt the most.
Nine months after the initial cap on gatherings, it was beginning to feel like concerts would never return. I had a list of over 20 shows I was hoping to see, and the year came to a close without any of them being able to happen. I did however catch a couple of comedy performances, albeit at limited capacity and constantly masked unless you were eating or drinking, and that helped scratch the itch I had for live entertainment.
That’s when I first saw the lineup for Aftershock, a rock/metal music festival in Sacramento, California. My heart leaped out of my chest. Could it be? Could live music really come back, in a festival no less? The lineup consisted of several artists I hadn’t been able to see yet, a few I didn’t care for, one I had a ticket for back in March, and many I had never heard of. The headliners were Limp Bizkit, Metallica, My Chemical Romance (before the pandemic they had announced their reunion tour), and Metallica again. How could I resist?
If I put $20 down, I could lock in a couple of tickets and pay off the rest in the months ahead. It was December, and the show was in the following October. I had the $20 and I felt confident I could make those payments and still be able to pay my bills. I confirmed my wife would want to go, and then I purchased two 3-day tickets (the 4-day tickets were already sold out). Even though the state of the world was dismal, and the future was uncertain, I took comfort in that transaction. For the first time in almost a year, I had a concert to look forward to.
In May, the lineup changed. Several bands dropped out (including Killswitch Engage, one of the bands I had a ticket for before the pandemic) but the biggest name to change was definitely My Chemical Romance. They postponed their tour until 2022, which upset my wife because they were the main band she was hoping to see. They were replaced by The Original Misfits, an iconic 1970s punk band. To me, that seemed like an even trade. Despite the changes, I felt the lineup was still definitely worth seeing. In the following months, the lineup changed several more times, with Limp Bizkit being replaced by Cypress Hill. That, along with Anthrax being taken off of Friday’s lineup and put onto Thursday, made me really wish I had been able to get a 4-day ticket.
As the months went by and vaccines became more widely available, I began to speculate that I might have to get one to attend the festival. I was never against the vaccines, which have plenty of evidence to support their safety and efficacy, according to Johns Hopkins. I personally, however, didn’t feel much of a need to get vaccinated. I’m a young, relatively healthy 25-year-old, and I felt that Covid was much less of a threat to me than Anthony Fauci or the CDC would have me believe. I also assumed I had some antibodies already, considering my wife and I were in large crowds in Long Beach in early 2020 and we found out the virus was in the United States much sooner than we first thought. I had also been exposed through coworkers, friends, and family members on several occasions, only to have the test come back negative every time. On top of that, the festival was set to take place outdoors, which significantly reduces the likelihood of catching or spreading Covid-19.
I decided to bide my time and see what happened. For all I knew, a lot of restrictions would cease to exist by the time of the event. Over the summer, that seemed more and more likely. Vaccines were available to everyone who wanted one, and mask mandates and lockdowns were ending all over the country. The pandemic was almost in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, along came the delta variant, making it feel like 2020 never ended.
It was August of 2021 when I got an email informing me that in order to attend Aftershock, I would have to provide proof of vaccination or a negative test result within 72 hours of the first day of the event. Even though I saw it coming, I was still disappointed; I was hoping for a return to normalcy, and getting a vaccine I didn’t think I needed, to go to a music festival, did not feel normal.
I believe in freedom of association. A private organization has every right to require me to wear a mask or get a vaccine in order to do business with them. My problem is when a government forces private entities to align their policies with what politicians and bureaucrats decide is best. At the time of getting that email, as far as I’m aware, the decision to require vaccination happened without any government coercion. I felt like I could still attend and keep my principles intact. I did have the option to provide a negative test result, but given the money I’d spent on tickets and hotel rooms, that would’ve been a bit of a gamble.
My wife and I decided to get the jab not long after that. We had to be fully vaccinated by September 24, a deadline we easily met. We made an appointment at Walgreens which ended up seeming pointless. We could’ve just as easily walked in without an appointment, and even with one, we ended up waiting long past our designated time. Even though I didn’t think the vaccine was filled with microchips ready to be activated by 5G technology, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. Though rare, side effects, including myocarditis and blood clots, do exist. I’m in the demographic most at risk for the former, and my wife, the latter, according to the CDC. Fortunately, other than our arms being sore the next day, we were both fine.
At that point, we were just running out the clock. We were fully vaccinated, our tickets and shuttle passes were paid for, our hotel room was booked, and we had requested the time off from our jobs months before. We were ready to rock.
San Francisco
When we first planned our trip, we thought it would be fun to see San Francisco, since we were only going to be a couple of hours away. I had seen it once before when I was a kid, but my wife had never had the opportunity. It was the first stop on our nearly week-long trip.
San Francisco is one of those cities that’s notoriously liberal, and I would say there was plenty to criticize about it long before Covid-19 and the corresponding policies; so it wasn’t much of a surprise to me when they became one of the several U.S. cities to implement what could essentially be considered a vaccine passport system. We live in a federalist society, where each state can decide its own rules, and each city within each state can more or less do the same. However, I was still disappointed. The very notion of a government-mandated vaccine, and having to show papers to prove your compliance, is antithetical to the ideals of freedom of choice, freedom of movement, freedom of association, and other basic liberties.
Even though my wife and I were both fully vaccinated, it felt wrong to engage in a system I strongly opposed. Yet, out of curiosity about how the vaccine passport actually worked, we decided to keep San Francisco in our plans. I joked that if I got into any trouble for not wearing a mask, I would claim that I felt the spirit since it worked so well for San Francisco’s mayor. We entered the city from the Bay Bridge, after a 12-hour drive from Orem, Utah. As we crossed the bridge I noticed several cargo ships out in the water, and I wondered if they were part of the massive backlog of ships that are unable to be unloaded due to disruptions in the supply chain. Currently, the problem seems to be in Los Angeles and Long Beach, but the Oakland port had its fair share of issues earlier in the year.
We made our way to the hotel, following a self-driving car for several blocks. As we entered the building, I begrudgingly put on my cheap disposable mask that was, though maybe not entirely useless, unlikely to prevent many particles from exiting my nose and mouth. We walked up to the counter, and a very friendly receptionist greeted us. I found it amusing that throughout the interaction, she pulled her mask down several times so we could hear her speak to us more clearly. The security theater was on full display.
After we dropped our luggage in our room and freshened up, we went for a little walk around our hotel and the surrounding area. We bought a couple of slices of pizza from a restaurant and a bottle of wine from a liquor store and made our way back to the hotel, where we watched several episodes of South Park and enjoyed our view of the city. During our walk, I was surprised to see as many people without masks as I did. Although there was no shortage of masked faces, it was encouraging to see so many people assess their own risk and make their decisions accordingly.
The next morning we had some time to kill, so we took another walk around the city. We got some pastries and coffee from a Chinese cafe and found a nearby park to sit and enjoy our breakfast. From there we decided to see some of the tourist attractions; so we drove down to the Fisherman’s Warf, where we bought some souvenirs, saw some World War II ships, and got a decent view of Alcatraz. We still hadn’t been asked to show proof of vaccination, but then again, other than that cafe and that pizza place (the entire transaction took place through a window) we didn’t really patron any bars or restaurants.
With half the day gone we left San Francisco, exiting the city by the Golden Gate Bridge. Our brief stay there had come to an end, and it was on to the main event of our trip. Unfortunately, one night wasn’t a whole lot of time to get a feel for the effect the vaccine passport system had on the city.
We made it to Rancho Cordova, a suburb 30 minutes outside of Sacramento, with a little bit of time to spare. We found a local burger joint and got some lunch. The burgers were great, rock music was playing on the radio, and none of the employees were wearing masks. I felt at home.
Day 1
Friday, October 8, 2021. The day had come at last. Even though I had seen a few concerts in the months leading up to it, this was my first music festival since the beginning of the pandemic. It was almost surreal as I slid the wristband over my hand and tightened it onto my wrist, where it would stay for the next several days. The wristband was my ticket. It contained an RFID chip that would let me scan in at the entrance.
That same chip would be my wallet for the weekend. I had activated the wristbands the night before and during the process, I had the option to set up cashless payments by linking my debit card with my wristband. I had to think about it.
Typically, I prefer cash. It’s not that paper money has any more value than the numbers in your mobile banking app, I just like to see the money physically leave my hand. It’s easier for me to keep track of what I’ve spent and how much is left. So the thought of just scanning my wrist made me nervous. After all, I was on a budget; I at least needed enough money to be able to get home in a few days. However, I could see how it’s a convenient option compared to pulling out your wallet for every transaction at a crowded music festival. I ended up choosing convenience.
The idea of an RFID chip on my wrist being linked with my debit card also made me uneasy for another reason. Most people have probably heard conspiracy theories about governments injecting microchips into their populace. I even alluded to a version of that theory earlier. While many conspiracy theories are certainly unfounded and baseless, sometimes there might be a shred of truth mixed in; or the belief itself stems from a genuine concern.
A few years ago, I couldn’t have faulted you for disregarding the concept of the government forcibly injecting a microchip into every member of society. Even as I write this it sounds absurd; something out of a dystopian sci-fi movie. Yet once you take into consideration the recent proliferation in contact tracing, vaccine mandates, health passports, and social credit scores, compounding onto an already thoroughly equipped surveillance state, the whole idea starts to seem less outrageous.
Governments abuse crises to seize power. Covid is just another example in a very long list. I don’t think it’s unreasonable, given what we’ve seen over a year and a half of pandemic policy, and the increasing influence technology has had over our lives, to speculate that one day, instead of a smartwatch, you’d get a chip implanted into your wrist. That’s not to say that it will necessarily emerge through force, just that the concept isn’t that far from reality, with several examples already existing. Once the technology is accepted, I think it’s naive to think it won’t be misused (not unlike cell phones, for example). I know it’s a far leap to go from music festival wristbands to microchips being forcibly inserted into people; I just think it’s a useful thought experiment. Today it’s vaccines, is it really so crazy to think it might be something else down the road?
All of that was going through my head while I waited for my wife to finish getting ready. She had outfits planned for each day. I was wearing a band t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. I had been ready to go for some time.
We had about a 30-minute drive from our hotel to the designated parking lot. From there we would take a shuttle to Discovery Park, located in downtown Sacramento. Before getting in line to board the bus, we each got another wristband (it was called the “Fan Health Wristband”). That one was our proof of vaccination or negative test. It was the one and only time on the entire trip that we actually had to show someone our vaccine cards. It’s not something I want to make a habit of.
After a short ride on the shuttle, we were finally making our way toward the entrance. We had a full day ahead of us. It was around 1 pm, the doors had been open for about an hour and we had already missed the first group, Contracult Collective. I didn’t know much about them, but prior to the event, I had discovered a Hole cover of theirs that my wife and I both enjoyed.
We rented a locker for the weekend, grabbed a drink to start the day, and got a feel for the festival grounds. As we walked from stage to stage, we passed several large art installations of album covers. Almost all of them were dedicated to Metallica, with one of them being for The Misfits. They were just some of the many art pieces scattered throughout the park.
The first artist we saw was Ayron Jones, an up-and-coming singer/guitar player from Seattle. I knew a couple of his songs before I had heard of Aftershock, and they were some of the few songs on the radio that weren’t already overplayed, or that I just plain didn’t like, so I was excited to catch his set. It was a great way to start off an entire weekend of live rock-n-roll.
The great part about music festivals is you get to see a lot of bands in one day; the downside to that is their set times overlap. You’re not necessarily obligated to catch every single band that plays, however, I thoroughly enjoy live music. I also wanted to get my money’s worth.
With that being the case we had a full schedule. Each band had a roughly 30-40 minute set and it was a 5-10 minute walk between stages, depending on which one (out of three) we were going to. We averaged about nine miles of walking each day.
The next band we saw that I had prior knowledge of was Pop Evil. I had seen them a few years earlier at a concert in Salt Lake City. After that it was a couple of groups that I had found out about through the festival, ranging from alternative rock to theatric heavy metal.
A little after 4:30 pm we made it back to the stage near where we had entered to see Skillet, a Christian rock band. I’ve known about them since middle school when a friend of mine introduced me to their music. I had also seen them once before.
After a few more drinks and a couple more sets, it was time for one of my favorite bands: Seether. I’ve seen them several times, one of them being just a few months before Aftershock, but they never disappoint. One of the hardest parts of the whole weekend was leaving their set to catch Suicidal Tendencies, a hardcore punk band from the 80s-90s, on the other side of the park. I’m a bigger Seether fan, but when would I get an opportunity like that again?
From then on the sets no longer overlapped, which meant we got to see Rancid, Volbeat, and finally, Metallica play their full sets one after the other. They all put on a great show, (even though we were waiting in line for a grilled cheese sandwich and loaded tater tots for half of Volbeat’s set) but I think the best part for me was being in the crowd, near the stage for the first part of Metallica; followed closely by being farther back, but having a great view to see them perform one of their classics: One. So far, Aftershock was living up to my expectations. Unfortunately, we left a little early to beat the traffic, so we missed the end of Metallica’s set. We exited the park to the song Master of Puppets.
Day 2
We started off the second day more or less the same, except instead of thinking about RFID chips while I waited for my wife to get ready, I was attempting to use an app on my phone to place an order to get a pack of prerolled joints for the festival. Aftershock had partnered with several dispensaries; one of them, Kolas, even had a stage named after them. The other two stages were dedicated to Jack Daniels and Coors Light.
Technically, weed wasn’t allowed at the festival, so I wasn’t quite sure what they meant when they talked about the “off-site delivery location”. According to their map, it was right next to the festival grounds. We found out later it was by the rideshare drop-off, near one of the entrances. We had already paid for the shuttle passes, which took us to the other entrance on the opposite end of the park. If you left you were not allowed back in, so we never actually used their delivery service.
The whole situation showed how marijuana use is still stigmatized more than it should be, despite more and more states legalizing it in some form. Officially, we festival-goers weren’t allowed to bring weed in with us, which begs the question: why would you set up deliveries right outside the entrance? Obviously, no one really cared, and the laws clearly still lag behind public opinion. If I can drink a beer and smoke a cigarette during this festival, why can’t I smoke a joint? Fortunately, we had an oil cartridge that we got in with ease. Vape pens were not prohibited.
Once we had gotten through security we followed a similar pattern as the day before. A quick stop by the lockers, then hopping in line to get a new 21+ wristband and a drink to go with it; we also bought a couple of water bottles and filled them up throughout the festival at the free hydration station. Then, drinks in hand, we headed toward the first performance of the day: The Black Moods, a rock band from Phoenix, Arizona.
Earlier in the year, back in Utah, I had seen them open for one of the bigger names to come out of my home state for a while, Royal Bliss. The Black Moods were one of several bands to play that night and when they announced themselves on stage, I thought their name sounded familiar. A few minutes later I realized where I recognized them from, the poster for Aftershock. I even told the lead singer I’d see him there as he walked past my table, so I felt somewhat of an obligation to catch their set. I was impressed with them the first time I saw them, and even more so the second time. We were off to another great start.
Over the next few hours, we caught five more bands. Naturally, throughout the time we were there when groups we weren’t familiar with were playing, we would stop in and check out some of the booths or shops. We ended the trip with quite a cache of free stickers, lanyards, bracelets, and other promotional merch, as well as random things we thought we needed and decided to buy from the general store. That’s also when we would try to get food or drinks, although that wasn’t always possible. We tried to be near whatever stage was being used though, that way we could stand in line and get a glimpse of the show at the same time.
At 3 pm, August Burns Red began their set on the Jack Daniels Stage. If the original lineup had never changed, it would’ve been Killswitch Engage instead. I mentioned earlier that I had bought tickets to see them before the pandemic; I didn’t mention that August Burns Red was also playing that same show. So even though I didn’t get to see Killswitch Engage, I was still making up for that lost concert.
Their set was definitely one of my favorites. Not only was it great to come full circle from March 2020, but I also got to jump into a mosh pit for the first time in roughly four years. I emptied my pockets into my clear backpack (which is a great example of dumb shit we bought from the general store). We picked a spot to meet up in case we lost track of each other, and I made my way to the pit. People unfamiliar with moshing probably don’t see it as a very appealing activity; even being someone who enjoys participating, it’s hard to put into words what’s so great about it. There’s a certain energy to it. Not only is it an adrenaline rush but there’s also a sense of community. A constant theme throughout the entire festival was: if someone falls in the pit, everyone helps to pick them back up.
I continued to mosh for several songs; occasionally hopping out to catch my breath or to prevent myself from losing one or both of my shoes. Eventually, I got out for good and met up with my wife; tired, sweaty, a little bruised, and a smile on my face. Beer and greasy food were rattled around in my stomach and I definitely needed to hydrate, but I didn’t regret a thing.
We caught several more bands and at the very end of Anti-Flag’s performance, I got to mosh again. I stayed in for a song or two until they closed out their set to one of my personal favorites: Die For Your Government. A perfect song for being in a moshpit.
The next set was probably one of the most, er, interesting parts of the weekend, to say the least. Machine Gun Kelly was up, and the crowd was seemingly unimpressed. For those who don’t know, the rapper-turned-pop-punk-star had sparked controversy in the metal community by feuding with Slipknot, specifically when he mocked their masks at Riot Fest where both groups were performing. Machine Gun Kelly played for a displeased crowd at every festival after that, and Aftershock was no different.
I didn’t personally see it, but through the course of his performance, he had several objects thrown at him. I was on that side of the park, however, and I was close enough to hear a very large portion of the crowd booing him after every song. As an Eminem fan and a Slipknot fan, I found it amusing.
The next band I wanted to see was Gojira, but first I had to check out Body Count, Ice-T’s metal band. After those two it was The Offspring, another name I was really excited to see. They’re one of those bands that I discovered through my parents’ CD collection, (that could be said about Metallica as well) so I’ve been listening to their music since I was a kid. The nostalgia only enhanced a great performance.
After that it was Mudvayne. Easily one of the heaviest bands at the festival. They have reunited after a 12-year hiatus, and Aftershock was one of several festivals they played as their first shows back. It was possibly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I didn’t take it for granted.
Finally, Saturday night came to an end with The Misfits, a horror-punk band that formed in the 70s. That was also a reunion, which seemed to be somewhat of a theme that night. We had a great spot in the crowd to watch them perform, which was also conveniently near the exit for whenever we wanted to leave. Although that night it seemed like more people left early than stayed for the entire headlining performance, so even though we left early, we still got stuck in a long and very disorganized line for the shuttle.
They were the only band (as far as I know, it’s possible someone could’ve said something I didn’t hear) to wish the crowd a Happy Halloween. My wife and I both appreciated that; we share their enthusiasm for the holiday. We left about 40 minutes into their set. As much as I enjoyed seeing them live, and even though I appreciate the contributions they’ve made to punk music, as my wife put it on the way out, “Once you’ve heard one Misfit’s song, you’ve kind of heard them all.”
Day 3
Waking up on Sunday was bittersweet. Aftershock had been such a fun experience, and there was still so much live music to see, but it was almost over. Like the last bite of a near-perfect meal, I tried to savor the moment. Despite being sore, tired, and having a constant ringing in my ears, I definitely could’ve kept it up for at least a few more days.
As we rode the shuttle to the festival, over the three days we were there, I had noticed several new developments on our route. I couldn’t help but wonder if those projects had been delayed by any lawsuits rooted in environmental NIMBYism. I didn’t pay much attention to them on that last day, however.
We entered the park for one final time, and I thought that we had already missed the first band (more on that in a second). We had the same routine as before, almost feeling habitual at that point, and again we were off to start another continuous day of live music.
After the first two bands, we made our way over to what I thought was a set by From Ashes to New. Out of all the bands I had been looking into to prepare for this festival, they were one of my favorites. I only knew a few of their songs, but they reminded me of Linkin Park in a very good way.
As we got closer to the stage I could tell that something wasn’t right. Instead of Linkin Park, it sounded more like Sublime. I realized almost immediately what had happened. From Ashes to New must’ve dropped out, so Law, (the band I thought we had missed) had taken their place.
Sure enough, it turned out that several members of From Ashes to New, along with some of their crew, had contracted Covid-19 and were forced to cancel. I was disappointed we didn’t get to see them, but at the same time, I was glad I got to see Law’s set. I enjoy a good reggae/rock band. After all, I did start this article by talking about being at a reggae music festival.
Next was an up-and-coming band: Mammoth. The frontman is Wolfgang Van Halen, son of Eddie Van Halen. I never got a chance to see Eddie live, but I can tell his spirit, along with his talent, lives on through his son.
We caught one more band and then we decided to take it easy for a little while. The next two bands, Black Veil Brides and Steel Panther, we didn’t really care for. One is an emo punk band from the mid-late oughts, the other is a sexually provocative rock band that seems like a parody of 1980s hair metal.
We decided to take that time to do what we hadn’t been able to do before: we sat down for an extended amount of time without the pressure of getting to the next set. My wife got a glass of Caduceus Cellar wine, and we found a nice spot in the shade.
While we were there, we got to witness a couple of artists painting murals onto blank pillars that had been set up in the park. Many of the paintings were already finished; there were several different styles, and all of them were skillfully done. It was an impressive part of the festival that I probably would’ve missed had we not taken a moment to sit and relax, so I appreciate that experience. We even got to watch one of the artists finish their project.
It was the last day of the festival, and there was something I wanted to try. Metallica has its own brand of whiskey, and the festival was probably my best opportunity to try it. Utah has restrictive liquor laws, which makes shipping booze to your house damn near impossible, and I’ve never seen their brand in my local liquor store.
I had gotten a drink with that whiskey in it on Friday, but I wanted to try the whiskey by itself. During the pandemic, I had started a small home bar and developed somewhat of a taste for straight whiskey. For $13, it was definitely worth it. Hopefully one day I’ll be able to get an entire bottle.
The next band we saw was All Good Things. I didn’t know much about them going in, but their performance really impressed me. Not only did I enjoy the music, but I also thought they had a remarkable stage presence. I walked away happy that we had caught their set.
Next was In This Moment. I’ve known about them for a couple of years. In the original lineup, this time slot would’ve been The Pretty Reckless, which my wife really wanted to see. Luckily, she seemed to appreciate In This Moment’s witchy display, as well as their unique brand of metalcore.
We caught the next few bands but we didn’t make it a point to rush across the park. After three days, we were starting to get tired. The next artist I made a priority to see was Yelawolf, a rapper from Alabama. I had been listening to his music since he signed with Shady Records. I mentioned I’m an Eminem fan right?
After that it was Social Distortion, another band I probably won’t ever get another chance to see. Luckily, we had a great view of their set while also waiting in line for a Hops Valley draft beer. One thing you learn at a music festival is how to multitask.
Up next was Rise Against. More music from my teenage years. Their fast-paced style of punk rock seemed to make their set fly by; fortunately, they played many of my favorites. We were approaching the end of an amazing weekend.
Last but certainly not least, was once again, Metallica. I had heard whispers before the festival, so I sort of knew what to expect, although I’m sure most everyone else did too. Their set that night consisted of The Black Album, in its entirety. However, they played it in reverse, meaning that because we left early like the days before, (we had to be up by at least 5 am to make a 10-hour drive home). We didn’t get to see them play Enter Sandman. That is one of my only regrets from the whole experience.
We did get to see some classics, like Nothing Else Matters; and there was something strangely fitting about leaving the festival to the sound of Don’t Tread On Me in the background. The night, and the weekend, had come to an end. After a day of driving, I would be back in my heavily Mormon-influenced smallish suburban Utah County town, and Aftershock would just be a mere memory.
Conclusion
Overall, I would say the experience was worth it. Worth the money, the time, the effort to get there and back; worth the hard decisions and the trade-offs. I imagine not many people there were thinking about the implications of providing papers to confirm your vaccination before entry, RFID chips on your wrist being linked to your bank account, the impact the drug war still has on legalized marijuana, frivolous environmental lawsuits, or anything other than enjoying the festival and having a good time. However, considering the 145,000 people in attendance, I won’t say I was the only one.
Throughout the entire event, nearly every band mentioned something about the last two years and how amazing it was to be able to be back doing what we all love to do. For many people, it was their first concert, or even their first large event, since the onset of the pandemic. The weekend at Aftershock proved to me that we can go back to normal. We can live the lives that we put on hold for so long. Venues, artists, and organizers can choose their own policies and manage their own precautions, but there is no reason for the government to butt in and tell us what decisions we have to make.
Live entertainment can come back. You can eat out at a restaurant or have a family gathering. Schools can fully reopen. Life can go back to normal. In many places it already has, and in some places, it never really changed. Vaccines are available to anyone who wants one, and individuals are capable of making their own risk assessments and should be free to do so. There’s no reason to hide from reality any longer. Covid-19, though a serious risk, is just another disease humanity can learn to live with. I would argue, we kind of already have.
Aftershock was one hell of a time. A weekend full of greasy food from strangers in tents, too much booze, technically not allowed THC, moshpits, headbanging, live music, and talking to strangers about where I got my Black Sabbath t-shirt, and what bands we were there to see. After nearly two years of life under a dangerous pandemic and oppressive public health measures, Aftershock was, for me, and probably for many others, a much-needed event. As well as being a release from all of the stress and tension we’ve all been carrying, it was also a reminder that despite our many differences, music can help to provide the unity this country so desperately needs. I will definitely be attending more music festivals in the future.
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