04.12.16 — 6:35PM Eastern — Boston Logan Intl. — At the gate

The flight before my flight, or maybe the flight before the flight before my flight — one does like to get to the airport early — seems to be running late, so the place is packed. A constant murmur bleeding through the quiet moments of the Spotlights album, which, despite that, is pretty good. Whenever my time comes, I’ll board the plane and fly redeye-style to Reykavik, which may be the coolest thing I ever get to say in my life: “Yeah, it was a redeye to Reykjavik.” No big deal. I do it all the time.

Nothing, of course, could be farther from the truth. This doesn’t happen all the time. This happens once a year. After connecting in Reykjavik, I head on to Amsterdam and then — maybe a car, maybe a train?; not sure yet — to Tilburg for what will be my eighth attendance the Roadburn Festival, third as editor of the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch daily ‘zine. I am no longer able to convey how special this time of year is for me, nor can I accurately describe the clawing I’ve done through the last several weeks to get to this point. Last year, I walked onto the loading dock behind the 013 venue, where Roadburn is held or at very least based, and said out loud it was good to be home. That space has been redone in the interim — so have I, to an extent — but I know once I get there and figure out where the stages are it will be the same feeling.

An ultimate escape from real life, and right now particularly, one sorely needed. Having gone back to work full-time has drained me past a comfortable point of the parts of me that I consider myself, and as I’ve been squirming in my seat for I don’t even know how long, this is precisely the kind of okay-go-play I need to make me feel alive again, like I’m something more than a commuter with short hair or the office weirdo who always takes his shoes off at his desk. I need to not be that, I think probably even more than I realize I need it.

If you’ve read this site’s Roadburn coverage in previous years, then you know how it goes. Each night, after the day’s events are over, I will update with a wrap up of that day. It’s not quite live-blogging, which would be me tweeting that Neurosis are awesome while Neurosis are playing and offers in my view precious little substance (though I will probably post some stuff on Instagram as well), but I hope to capture a fraction of the vibrant, creative mania that drives this event and, in my view and my experience, makes it different from everything else out there and, yes, special as fuck.

Let’s say each day’s review will be up before the next day starts, at the latest. But unless a piano falls on my head, that means late-night posts all the way.

Hours to go before I leave, and from what I hear I have a middle seat on the flight — of the exit row, but still — so I don’t expect too many favors from the universe on this one, but at the end of this slog is Roadburn, and if Roadburn is anything at all, it’s worth getting to. This is the start of my calendar, a retreat for mind and what in my pitiful case passes for a spirit, and I can’t wait to be surrounded by the music, the people and to be in the place itself. There isn’t a doubt in my mind it will be incredible. Not one.

Thanks in advance for reading if you do and for being a part of this.

Tags: Boston, Massachusetts, Roadburn 2016, Roadburn 2016 Trip, Roadburn Festival

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 12th, 2016 at 5:54 pm and is filed under Features. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.