I’ve attended and covered some of the most highly lauded music festivals across the country. But let’s be real, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all. The Bonnaroos and Coachellas of the world are like those all-inclusive resorts on South Pacific islands with the straw huts and coconut cocktails and “traditional” evening performers and the same damned couple you met at the Fiji Sheraton last year from Topeka. You know, the places where they tell you upon arrival never to leave resort grounds? For
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