18.5 Hours of My Life that I Will Never Get Back

Only two things in life are worth sitting in a car for 13.5 hours in mostly standstill traffic: a pet monkey or a Smiths reunion. Unfortunately, the Vans Warped Tour had only mud and bullshit.

My Day at Warped Tour '05

As far as I am concerned, only two things in life are worth sitting in a car for 13.5 hours in mostly standstill traffic: a pet monkey or a Smiths reunion. Unfortunately, the Vans Warped Tour had only mud and bullshit waiting for me at the Three County Fairgrounds in Northampton, MA. The day labeled “a fiasco” by The Boston Herald and “a fucking mess” by me was poorly organized and unsuccessfully executed.

Punk rockers, teenyboppers and emo kids alike look forward to Warped Tour like a young child counts down to his or her birthday. Warped Tour is an annual celebration; it is where all that is fun - loud music, free stuff and great crowds - combines to create the most spectacular day of your year, assuming you avoid those bands that carry the stigma of suck (and there are always at least two). 

This particular stop of the 11th Warped Tour was not the festival that so many expect and rely on to cap off a great summer.  Few concertgoers saw all of the bands that they wanted to see and most were stuck in an average of six hours of traffic because the town could not accommodate such a large event.  And then there were those who got in car accidents, broke down on the side of the highway or were denied entrance to the town when cops decided it was at its full capacity.

First off, I would like to emphasize that I have had nothing but positive experiences with Warped Tour in the past. Without the tour giving me a shot back in 2001, I would not be able to be doing what I love (taking pictures and writing about music and stuff that pisses me off for an audience of about six, including my mother, for free).

Secondly, all of the bands that I did get to see play went out there and gave 100%. Funeral for a Friend, Motion City Soundtrack, Fall Out Boy, Thrice, and the Offspring all put on stellar, energetic shows free of the last-day-of-tour malaise that usually strikes a handful of bands in Massachusetts each year. It’s too bad that their performances were overshadowed by the fairgrounds’ non-accommodating accommodations.

Location, Location, Location

Most of the day’s problems were caused by the Northampton, MA location, which was likely booked without being researched or checked out first. The only New England stop of the tour was closer to Albany, NY than Boston, MA. As a New Hampshire native, I was not pleased. But this faux pas extends far past causing me an inconvenience. It is simply a bad idea to send excited and distracted young drivers across the state in their busted-up old Buicks to a town they’ve never heard of. On our trek alone, my friend and I spotted 13 cars involved in accidents and even more cars broken down – all of which left groups of punky looking teenagers huddling nervously in the breakdown lane.

Now obviously, shit happens. Forrest Gump said so, so it is so. But this year, auto problems were excessive and avoidable to a certain extent. Traffic and parking woes as well as safety can be improved simply by holding the concert at a venue that has access to public transportation. The MBTA has extensive commuter rail service that hits up most major Massachusetts destinations. A round trip is cheaper than a tank of gas and won’t leave you with road rage or a headache.

Additionally, the venue, the town and its police force could not handle the massive amounts of concertgoers. The one lane road to and from the site backed up traffic for 20-miles and about six hours. Leaving the town was only slightly more pleasant than arriving there. Rather than directing the traffic (which was coming from four different directions, with none of the lines moving for over an hour) from the parking lots to the highway after the show, Northampton cops thought it would be a better use of their time to pair up with flashlights and look through each car’s window for drugs. Amazingly the punk stereotype lives on, even though punk itself does not. 

And so we sat for nearly two hours waiting to leave the venue.  Meanwhile band and crew buses were cutting off concert traffic and causing more delays. Shouldn’t they have their own exit? And what ever happened to the barbeque and after-parties? I’ve never seen the bands and crew so eager to leave. W

Get the press shit together!

I arrived at the press tent remarkably late to find an impatient band member waiting to be interviewed and an alternately pissed off and understanding tour employee. Apparently, I had been automatically signed up for interviews, one of which I “missed” while stuck in traffic for hours. The Warped Tour press guy confused me with his tirades and friendly conversation, angrily telling me I should be timely and prepared then apologizing (“Sorry, I’ve had to deal with 14 year-old girls asking about My Chemical Romance all day, every day”) only to launch into the cycle again. I feel his pain, but I wasn’t exactly having an awesome day either. 

This is how I understand what happened. To gain passes to the tour, press must fill out a form complete with a section on which artists you would possibly like to interview.Nowadays, in the age of the Warped behemoth, press must fill out these forms in March to guarantee passes. I don’t remember what I ate for breakfast, much less what I wrote on a form five months ago. This year, they decided to take the press forms seriously, automatically signing up interviews before press arrived. This new policy defied all logic. I paired off the waiting band member with another writer and left without interviews thinking things couldn’t get worse. They did.

Unfortunately, loyal Sound the Sirens readers, I do not have many photos from the show for you to enjoy. Although I had a legitimate photo pass, main stage security did not choose to honor it. Instead, I was attacked by one of the men hired to keep me safe. One guard waved the second group of photographers into the photo pit where we were shoved several times by a 300 lb man who would not allow us to take photos. My back was turned to him as I was leaving, yet he still felt that I was enough of a threat to security that he had to twist my arm, pull my shirt and shove me twice more. Perhaps he thought my camera was a grenade, or maybe he just had a mean case of ‘roid rage. Regardless, it was simply wonderful to travel eight hours only to be refused the right to do my job in an unnecessarily violent manner. Part of me was flattered, as I stand at 5’4” and can only lift 8 lb dumbbells, but the other part of me finally snapped (how I lasted this long is beyond me). I disappeared into the crowd to do what any college-age professional would do in my situation: I proceeded to chuck plastic bottles and other garbage at the offending security.Nobody messes with me and gets away without an onslaught of criminal mischief.S

Proceed With Caution

I left that night with some shots of Motion City Soundtrack and a rage problem. It was hardly worth it. Between the time I left New Hampshire (7 am) and the time I finally got home (1:30 am), I had wasted 18 ½ hours of my life that I will never get back. I did, however, learn some valuable lessons:

Lesson 1: The Three County Fairgrounds should never, ever be used for a concert again. If you live in New England or New York, stay away from this venue at all costs.

Lesson 2: No matter where you live, make sure the venue is a logical choice for the event it is hosting and be confident that the benefits of the show will outweigh any disaster potential.

Before you pack up and go to Warped Tour or any other outdoor festival, I urge you to consider my case. It just might save 18 ½ hours of your life.