Can you dig a gig flashback?
Rock fans are abuzz with the announcement of a local tribute to the 50th anniversary of the famed Woodstock music festival.
Woodstock South will take place at a farm in the Motueka Valley on August 15-19, coinciding with a similar event in the United States. Promoter Michael Cashin said the Kiwi edition was no second fiddle.
‘‘It’ll blow your mind, man. We’ve got a top lineup of bands, workshops and ‘happenings’.’’
Cashin told the Mail the new Woodstock would give a nod to its original baby boomer fans.
‘‘We’ve trebled the number of Portaloos, for starters,’’ he laughed. ‘‘And they all have night lights.’’
Other facilities will also be upgraded. ‘‘Times change. Camping under sodden tarps is a bummer. It’s
all glamping now. Safari tents with queen beds and chandeliers. Each tent is secured by a two-metre-high ‘privacy’ fence,’’ Cashin said.
‘‘We’re talking serious acreage so, regrettably, site fees have to rise. The good news is we’ve capped them at $10,000 for the three days, because we want to remain inclusive.’’
Most festivalgoers would stay in their motorhomes anyway.
‘‘We’ve leased the surrounding farms for the mother of all car parks, with electric bicycles to ferry fans to the concert amphitheatre.’’
Cashin said this city on wheels would be totally inclusive for anyone with a seven-metre-plus campervan, regardless of race and creed.
‘‘We also want to extend a special invitation to the LGBT community – lumbago, gout, back pain and tinnitus sufferers. Our on-site ‘MASH’ hospital is fully equipped.’’
If fans tire of the music, they can ‘‘expand their consciousness’’ in workshops covering topics such as spirituality (Cocktails for Happy Hour), practical skills (Zen and the Art of LED Strip Lighting) and ‘‘financial permaculture’’ (Grow Your Nest Egg).
‘‘Dig it, man. Three days of peace, music and wealth management – what’s not to like?’’
Cashin is expecting half a million punters at the festival, although he admits that with parking for only a fraction of that number, the ‘‘peace’’ edict might be tested.
He pledged that the music would start at 10am, once crosswords are done, then take a breather midafternoon for naps, and again from 5pm to 7pm for The Chase and news bulletins. Amplifier plugs will be pulled at 10pm. No exceptions.
Drugs are available – from the wellstocked on-site pharmacy – but nude mud bathing has been vetoed by the regional council, to avoid polluting downstream dairy herds.
‘‘I’m cool with that. If mud is your bag, Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools is travelling up with a mobile spa in a marquee. Face peels, dermabrasion, seaweed – it’s a blast, man. I did a ‘famil’ – feel my skin.’’
Lovely, the Mail agreed (awkwardly). How’s the music lineup shaping?
‘‘Rad. Totally rad. We wanted to bring back the old bands, but most are unavailable for mortality reasons.
‘‘Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young are a prospect. There’s just a little matter of internal death threats to work through,’’ Cashin said.
‘‘The Jimi Hendrix Experience (Reborn) is auditioning a new frontman – some kid who won the air guitar comp at the Riwaka Tavern at New Year’s. He’s good, I hear.
‘‘Otherwise, I dunno. Joan Baez is not returning calls, Jefferson Airplane has been permanently grounded by the FAA with ‘metal’ fatigue, Melanie suffers from chronic emphysema contracted while lighting candles in the rain, and the Grateful Dead are gratefully alive, though two-thirds of the band can’t remember they were ever in a band.
‘‘But hey, Country Joe and the Fish – they’re booked. Groovy, man. ‘One, two, three, what are we fighting for?’ There’s a slight marketing hitch – they’re now called Lifestyle Block Joe and the Sustainably Harvested Salmon Company.
‘‘Their famous chant has changed, too: ‘One, two, three, what are we fighting for? Resource consent to plonk six more cages in Kenepuru.’ It doesn’t scan, but that’s rock’n’roll.’’
Cashin conceded that thinking outside the square with fresh acts had been a challenge.
‘‘Dylan – OK, he’s long past ‘fresh’, but he’s super keen. Thing is, he can’t perform his big hits any more because he’s sold the rights to advertisers.
‘‘Mick and the Stones have offered to live-stream a performance from his hospital rehab suite. If his surgery is pushed back, though, we’re stuffed.’’
So who exactly is headlining? the Mail asked. The reply: ‘‘We’ve signed the hottest act in the biz.’’ Really. Adele?
‘‘Too potty-mouthed.’’ Fleetwood?
‘‘Pah, support act. No, man – I’m talking the big W.’’
Stevie Wonder?
‘‘Wiggles, dude. The Wiggles.’’ Get outta town, the Mail choked. A children’s novelty act?
‘‘I know – huge. These baby boomers will rock up in their hundreds of thousands with the grandies in tow, and some greatgrandies, I’m guessing. The Wiggles will kill. And their colourful outfits – very psychedelic.’’
That might be a hard sell, the Mail sniffed. You’ll need some pushbacks.
‘‘No way. Music’s just a part of the deal. We’re talking an Aquarian Experience. Soundtrack and movie rights locked in – T-shirts at the screenprinters.
‘‘Can you dig it: singalongs, food, painkillers, fellowship, discount knee replacements, sudoku – and the chance to rabbit on for decades about being there?
‘‘We’re even seeding the clouds for a few thunderstorms to recreate the original vibe. It’s the weirdest thing, man, but misery makes excellent compost for growing nostalgia.’’
We wanted to bring back the old bands, but most are unavailable for mortality reasons.