Oh, for a few more days of being under the influence and along-side the influencers.

This weekend, I made my way to the greater Baltimore area for what was predicted to be a very rainy, muddy Virgin Mobile Free Fest. Upon arriving at the airport, though, my driver (Yakov!!! I love you!!) pointed out that: “Is because you here, the sun come out!” And out it stayed! You’re welcome, Free Fest attendees!

After getting cleaned up, my friends and I headed towards DC (on a yellow schoolbus) for a little dinner and dancing, courtesy of the beautiful Mekanism team. The setting was the 9:30 Club, where we were supposed to have dinner and then watch Peter, Bjorn, and John play. But something happened and part of PB&J were injured, which isn’t funny, but is, because A) It’s Peter Bjorn and John..what were THEY doing to get injured? and B) Because PB&J. So, instead of getting a sensitive, light pop show, we got a fucking scorching ECLECTIC METHOD DJ set, rich with mind-warping video mash-up and altogether madness. This was my first EM experience, so forgive a n00b.

The next morning, after a bit of breakfast therapy and party triage, we were off to Merriweather Post Pavilion for Free Fest, and yes, the sun was still out. You’re still welcome.

The day started pretty slow, as the early part of each stage was low-impact. That being said, I was pleased with sets by Bombay Bicycle Club AND Two Door Cinema Club. They were both really fun and motivated and people woke-up quick to enjoy them. For my experience, things didn’t really excel past me wandering around like a sun-dazed Zombie until 3, when the first knock-out of the day came in the form of G.O.O.D. Music’s Big Sean!

Everything I read about the Detroit MC references his “likable personality” or his “friendliness” which to me sounds pretty un-hood. Upon watching his mid-day show on the smelly (seriously, seriously smelly) west festival stage, I totally understand it. Forget that he’s a really good rapper. Forget his simple, powerful beats. Forget his growing stack of radio hits. You just want to be friends with this guy. He’s encouraging, he’s excited, he loves his mom, he wants you to party on it, and he wants everyone to “get rich as fuck.” Now, remember all that I stuff I said to forget. THAT is star potential. He’s Kanye’s protege, but he doesn’t make you feel guilty for liking him. Unlike Yeezy, Sean seems excited NOT to be an asshole! Let’s have a toast for the NON-ASSHOLES.

It was on my way to lunch that I ran into Sir Richard Branson. Out of habit, I said “Oh, hey!” and he said “Hey there” back. He’s a billionaire, throws an extraordinary party, has legendary hair, and probz owns a time machine. Oh…hey.

I didn’t see anyone at this Festival perform badly, but Cut Copy was a sad shadow of the Cut Copy I saw in Chicago in July. In Chicago, I expected kind of a whatever dance show that people sort of nodded along to, and instead got a massive, intense party. This time, ready to party, it was a mid-day nod fest. Sorry guys. ON THE FLIP-SIDE, I thought TV On The Radio were the best I’ve ever seen them this weekend. They were engaging and fun and seemed really interested in bringing their show. At Pitchfork, they were a massive letdown.

Fantastic sets were delivered by The Black Keys, Grace Potter, and Cee Lo, and MAJOR deliveries came in the form of Empire of the Sun (which I expected to be deliciously weird, but not nearly the party it would prove to be) and Deadmau5, who closed the festival in a blinding, deafening, muddy explosion of magic and dry-humping.

The big winner, though, was Patti Smith, who was probably a little too good for this festival. Not that she shouldn’t play wherever she wants, and the fest was for an extraordinarily great cause (youth homelessness), but the poignance and power of her set is somewhat lost on a huge, drunk audience who is popping-in to see her on their way to Cee Lo. Patti played her best loved songs, mixed with a few left-field selections and a dedication to Amy Winehouse. The crux of her set came as she delivered a stirring and gut-punching speech about what 9/11 means, and about remembering 9/10, “when we were still ourselves, and before the government put a camera everywhere we shit.” She was simultaneously lovely and gracious and furious and personable throughout. She smiled one second and then spit the next. So much of the set was lost on the setting, and still it was the greatest point of the day, and a honor to witness. She seemed glad to be there, the fest was glad to have her. I was floored.

I finished my evening hanging out with all my new friends, talking to TV On The Radio’s Kip Malone about the YeeHaw print shop, in my lovely hometown of Knoxville, and watching James Murphy (formerly of LCD Soundsystem) working his DJ magic at a little get together in the middle of the park. Also, I prayed to the moon with La Coacha and almost exclusively talked about Rick Ross at this party, but that isn’t important.

Special thanks to the wonderful girls of Mekanism and the people at Virgin for putting on a Free event with a conscience, and for making sure that Wil Wright had a really crazy time.