As seasons pass with no king emerging to assume the throne of Bonnaroo nation, summer festivals continue to grow in both size and number. Rural hayfields become more and more bloated with stages and tents, squeezing all the creative juices out of the homegrown fruits that once made regional festivals so ripe with their own unique personalities. The same freakishly diverse temporary families that once convened at those relics of the summer circuit have begun gathering in such large numbers that what once seemed a circus-like freakshow has devolved into just another party.
Those same nomads that make today
