In 2011, I shared a crowded backseat in a Pontiac Sunfire—a cramped, two-door car that was a popular hand-me-down for high school students in those days—and drank a 24-ounce energy drink in anticipation of my first Warped Tour. My accessories included a chunky flip phone, hair extensions (black on top, red on the bottom) and a carefully curated MySpace page. I had planned my Warped Tour outfit meticulously, ignoring all advice from my parents: No, those leather pants will not cause heat stroke, Dad, and you’re wrong–Scranton, Pennsylvania is the perfect place for a festival.
My parents were only half right. Yes, the leather pants were too sticky, but this didn’t diminish my experience. Warped Tour transformed an anonymous post-industrial space into a punk playground. This was back when the tour still traveled with a half-pipe, and had no bulletins warnings against the legal ramifications of crowd surfing—or if there were any, I didn’t notice them. I was always too hyped up on the music to observe much else.
This year, attending Warped Tour in New Orleans, I was still impressed at the festival’ s ability to quickly transform a space into a seven-stage event. Having always attended the festival in wide-open fields, I was surprised to see Mardi Gras World—as opposed to the Fair Grounds—listed as the venue. Having now experienced the thick, Louisiana heat, I agree that Mardi Gras zone was a wise choice. The five outdoor stages benefited from a river breeze, and the two indoor stages came equipped air conditioning.
Still: Air conditioning, at Warped Tour? The part of me that is fading into an older punk couldn’t help thinking that kids these days have it easier, just as those who went to Warped Tour before me thought my generation had it easier. This thought is a natural part of growing up as a live music lover. It’s easy for nostalgia to convince us that the shows we frequented as teenagers were more authentic than what teenagers frequent these days, but what’s important isn’t whether the music was “authentic” (whatever that means), but how it made us feel at the time.
And the performers at Warped Tour make you feel. Watching them shred and scream out their demons was the most rewarding part of the experience. At one point, trailing what must have been a 100-foot long microphone wire like a swimming line, the vocalist from Emarosa half crowd-surfed, half piggy-backed his way through the audience. Despite the bulletins forbidding moshing, bands encouraged rowdiness.
“When I turn around,” said the guitarist from Every Time I Die as he adjusted his gear for another aggressive, energetic anthem, “I better see a circle pit.”
All that catharsis works up an appetite. Warped Tour caters everything my 15-year old self–or my current-day 2AM self–would want: Nachos, pizza and that sublime pinnacle of scientific and culinary achievement, the Oreo churro. You can buy beer at Warped Tour, but I was craving water. I had not learned from my previous Warped Tour experiences, and was once again wearing sticky pants for the sake of fashion.
As bastions of identity, fashion and music have always been intertwined. The crowds at Warped Tour look a lot like the performers. Otherworldly hair colors. Tattoo sleeves. Gauged Ears. Screen-printed shirts that could be bought from the merchandise booths that sprawl the space like an outdoor mall. The singer for Sum 41, Deryck Whibley, must be old by now, but he still has the style and glow of a rock n’ roll Peter Pan. In many ways, going to Warped Tour in my mid-20s made me feel fresh and genuine about music, though I imagine it might exhaust some other older people. The tour is undeniably marketed to a younger demographic with expendable income, though the price of the ticket is amazing considering the number of acts. At forty dollars, it comes out to less than two dollars per band.
Something unique that I increasingly appreciate about Warped Tour is how approachable most of the musicians are. It was my first festival as a teenager, the first time I got an album signed (thanks, Hayley Williams). These bands may have some studio success, but on Warped Tour they mingle and blend in with the crowd. Kids these days may have smarter phones and a wider spectrum of pastel hair dyes, but they still have the same sense of excitement I had when they come face to face with their musical heroes. I predict that it’s this excitement–more than any amount of sponsors–that will keep Warped Tour rolling for years to come.
All photos by Clare Welsh and Emma Dugas. Click here to view the full gallery on Flickr.
Photo by Clare Welsh
