Woodstock was a moment in time. A moment that can not, and will not, be recreated. It is the granddaddy of all music festivals because it represented something WAY bigger than just the music, or the “experience” of a music festival.
It was the true culmination of a generation. There, on acres of upstate New York, every possible symbol and behavior, both metaphorically and literally, had conjoined to say farewell (likely unknown to most present) to a care-free way of life and one of the most pivotal decades in US history.
I watched a number of Woodstock 1999 performances online last night. I’m proud to say that’s my generation, but that wasn’t Woodstock.
Woodstock was attempted in 1979, 1989, 1994 and 1999. I am not here to say that there weren’t some killer moments/performances during these post-Woodstock festivals, but magical moments can’t be recreated.
I hope the fortieth anniversary comes and goes in peace, but if someone tries to push it through, I will do my best to be there (because it would be a lot of fun).
Instead, may I suggest Bonnaroo…