#Music

As I told you in my previous post, I survived OppiKoppi 2012. It was challenging at times but totally worth it. For those of you considering a maiden OppiKoppi voyage next year, here are ten tips for a successful experience.

Last night I returned from OppiKoppi, South Africa’s largest and most legendary music festival.

“Oppi Koppie” means “on the hill” in Afrikaans.

About 20,000 of us gathered for three days on a dusty farm in rural Limpopo province. We listened to dozens of mostly South African musical acts of multiple genres; most of them were good, and some of them were outstanding. We camped out. We inhaled massive amounts of dust. We peed in prickly thorn bushes. We danced, and we got lost, and we walked, for miles and miles and miles. We did not shower. We made lots of new friends.

Remember three days ago, when I was sitting on the porch in my pajamas at 7:30 a.m.? Those days are gone.

SNOW. Like, real snow. In South Africa.

As the South Africans say, “Sho!” (Roughly meaning, “Wow!”)

Yesterday there was a festival in Melville called Fête de la Musique. Fête de la Musique, a free festival that brings music to public spaces and gives exposure to both professional and amateur musicians, takes place in more than 100 countries. This was the first fête to hit Melville.

Before this past weekend, the last music festival I attended was the legendary HFStival – sometime around the turn of the millennium in a grimy, beer-sodden stadium in southeast Washington D.C. It was oppressively humid and there were more than 70,000 attendees, mostly suburban kids aged 14 to 25. There was moshing. With the exception of my favorite ska/punk band, Goldfinger, I don’t remember who played.