It’s Only Rock ’n’ Roll
Can a multigenerational family fnd peace, love and understanding
at a 21st-century Woodstock? By DAVID BRILL
We cool Author David Brill and daughters Logan, left, and Challen survey the scene at the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival in Manchester, Tennessee.
T’S 2 A. M. AND I’M STANDING ON WEARY LEGS CAKED IN GRIME,
swaying to String Cheese Incident, a jam band to rival the
Grateful Dead. Liters of dried sweat have stifened my shirt to
cardboard, while the sun has baked my skin to a carapace.
And did I mention I’ve lost my family?
My daughters—Challen, 22, and Logan, 20—are of God knows
where among a tribe of tattooed celebrants of the counterculture. My wife, Belinda, is in thrall to a band of gypsy punks calling
themselves Gogol Bordello.
Music and Arts Festival, held over
four days each June on a 700-acre
farm in Manchester, Tennessee.
Though most of the 80,000 attendees
are in their 20s, many are like me:
middle-aged die-hards tagging along
with their kids for an amped-up blast
of what’s new in contemporary music
Earlier that day, Belinda, the girls