Why can’t San Diego keep its rock music festivals?

If Salt Lake City can do it, why can’t we?

Please note that the North Park Music Fest is going down this weekend, and this newsletter is not indicative of my feelings toward that. In fact, the idea for this newsletter came about after attending the a good music festival in Salt Lake City last weekend, and the timing is purely coincidental.

AWKSD fully supports the North Park Music Fest. Please go and enjoy the many talented San Diego musicians who are playing it. 

*****

Springtime in Salt Lake City is perfect. There’s a dryness to the air, like the entire city is a sauna turned to low. The sun stays out until 8:00 p.m. and twilight lasts forever. It’s like the last day of school, where the prospects of doing everything or nothing have equal weight. Everyone sheds their winter-weary selves—a gleeful transformation that people who’ve always lived in season-less California will never understand. 

At the Kilby Court Block Party music fest, it’s easy to fall in love with my former hometown. Four stages have been set up inside Downtown’s Library Square, which is a shining example of urban design unto itself—a mix of stunning architecture and open space. The festival’s lineup includes big names and local acts (including some legendary Utah bands that have reunited just for this occasion). There’s beer, but nothing fancy. No hazys, or triple IPAs. That’s not the draw here.

The first thing I notice is how young everyone looks. I look around and see so many awkward teens. There’s also a heartening amount of young queer, trans, and nonbinary folks (mostly white, of course, because this is Utah). Groups of friends sit in the grass and eat pizza. Like, there are actually places to sit! About every fifth person is wearing a shirt of tonight’s headliner, Phoebe Bridgers. 

My friends, my brother (who let me tag along on his tix [thanks, Ben!]), and I watch Bridgers’ set from a distance, but the chorus of her fans makes it feel like we’re near the front. They’re singing along to every word. 

I can’t remember the last time I felt this way at a music festival. Granted, Covid really kind of killed that buzz for the past two years. But even before that, what did we have? Street Scene? Kaaboo? San Diego Music Thing? All of these are gone.  

Why can’t we keep our music fests? We’re good maintaining art/cultural fests, literary fests and (sigh) beer fests—but why hasn’t San Diego been able to develop a lasting popular music festival?  

There’s no sense of curation

I arrived in San Diego at the tail end of 2009, the last proper year of San Diego’s only long-running popular music fest, Street Scene (let’s not speak of the shitshow that was 2010’s bankrupt iteration). Looking back through the lineups from past Street Scenes, I can say that some truly great bands played, but they also seemed to be curated by people who only knew what was popular (and who apparently were big fans of Social Distortion). Street Scene lineups had that throw-everything-against-the-wall energy, much like big radio shows that will book, say, Public Enemy and Modest Mouse back to back. This might have been okay 15 years ago when radio and popular music was in a state of flux, but we’re living in an era where curators should know their audiences—a strategy that still seems to be a challenge in San Diego. 

There’s a reason that certain festivals invoke such a visceral reaction in music fans. Take this year’s Riot Fest, for example (a highly subjective example). When that lineup dropped, I nearly spit up my tangerine La Croix. How could it be that 90% of the bands on a festival bill are bands that I would want to see?  

The answer is that Riot knows its target audience (over-the-hill punks/me) and doesn’t waste time trying to appeal to everyone. Even Coachella, despite its annoying commercialization, has a good handle of who their audience is, and books a diverse set of large and small acts that fit well together. Psycho Las Vegas is another festival that does a very good job, and knows how far they can veer from their primary focus on metal to create an eccentric-yet-cohesive experience. San Diego’s EDM-focused CRSSD, while not a rock festival, is a great example of successful curation. And even if you’re not a fan of the bands that played Kilby Court’s Block Party, there’s no denying that a lot of thought and consideration went into this lineup 

If I were to put a theme to this, I’d go “Happy music for sad weirdos”. 

But every attempt since Street Scene is like, “Here are the biggest names we could get. Enjoy! Also, we tried to get P.O.D. and Switchfoot, but that didn’t work out.” 

Successful curation means knowing the community, and having an interest in their interests. Which brings us to the next point... 

I’m pretty sure the people who previously booked these things don’t actually listen to music

One reason for this dearth of curation is that the people who bankroll these kinds of things have little-to-no interest in music. I know this because I used to work for the person who was in charge of many major San Diego music events (including the SD Music Thing). During the seven years I spent working in the same office as him, not once did I hear him listening to music. He didn’t go to shows. He knew about artists, but only to the extent by which he could make money off them (he was very interested in Wavves after they blew up, for example). 

On the other hand, I know that the Kilby Block Party was booked by people who like music. Will Sartain and Lance Saunders—co-owners of the beloved all-age SLC venue, Kilby Court (which gave the festival its namesake)—came up through the Salt Lake City music scene, and played in bands long before they were club owners, and their enthusiasm for music shines through. They know the people who come to their shows, are knowledgeable about Salt Lake City’s music legacy, and are reverent to the scene from which they came, as well as the community they continue to foster. 

There’s little youth appeal

God, remember Kaaboo? Imagine, in this age of $6 gas and devastating inflation, spending money on a “luxury” music fest? I can’t think of anything more repellent to youth than paying exorbitant prices for a massage while some nostalgia act performs for a bunch of drunk rich people. 

Other things under-agers don’t give a shit about: craft beer. I’ll angrily fork over $11 for a festival hazy, but only because I’ve passed my peak years, and any spark of youthful hope within me has extinguished, and life from here on out is just one endless slog til death.  

Generally, when people are excited about the bands, it makes for a much better festival experience. And you know who gets excited for music? Young fans. 

We don’t use our spaces well 

How many San Diego festivals have been held in a, uh, parking lot? Or on a closed down street with zero tree coverage? Allow me to throw a little shade at the North Park Music Fest, because last time I checked there is literally no shade at the North Park Mini Park. 

We have a world-renowned park at our fingertips. We also have the Embarcadero. Liberty Station has done festival-type things, and they should do more! I don’t know why we don’t use these spaces instead of forcing people to stand on sunbaked asphalt and concrete. (Btw, the best music festival I’ve been to in San Diego was the Smooth Jazz Festival, which is held on the Embarcadero). 

I mean, if Salt Lake City can do this, why can’t we? 

Thanks for indulging this rant from a guy with very specific and subjective tastes. Please go support the North Park Music Fest this weekend. I hope it sticks around for a long time.  

---

AWKSD GUEST LIST

The Guest List gives AWKSD subscribers the opportunity to see live music for free. Just reply to this email and let me know which show you want to see, and I’ll hook you and a friend up.

Thursday, May 19 

!!!, Dante Elephante @ The Casbah: !!! (pronounced chkchkchk) pretty much set the standard for all electroclash and dance punk of the late 2000s, and for that, I will always love them. I think I listened to “Heart of Hearts” at least once a week between 2007 and 2009 while walking to work. 

Sunday, May 22

Author & Punisher, Mutant, D.WREX @ The Casbah: When Author & Punisher’s Krüller dropped earlier this year, it instantly went on my Best of 2022 list. Although it’s still as punishing as previous albums, there’s a new melodic sadness to the music, and I love it. Also, if you haven’t seen singer/songwriter Tristan Shone play his handbuilt instruments (which look more post-apocalyptic weapons), you’re been missing out. 

PREP, Wake The Wild @ Soda Bar: If you’re looking for something a little more dancy on Sunday night, head over to watch PREP, a UK band that sounds like the heir apparent to Hall & Oates. I love how hard they lean into yacht rock on their song “Turn the Music Up.” 

Tuesday, May 24

Diamante Eléctrico, Marujah @ The Casbah: Goddamn, Colombian band Diamante Eléctrico are cool. Their live performances have that je nous se qua element only found in bands like Spoon, Raveonettes and other effortlessly hip bands. 

Rivers of Nihil, Fallujah, The Zenith Passage, Alluvial, Warforged @ Brick by Brick: Rivers of Nihil are essentially a death metal band, but then they’ll drop a prog break-down, a saxaphone, or a cosmic interlude into their song and you’ll be like whaaaa? It’s fucking weird in the best and most beautiful way. 

---

Got a tip or wanna say hi? Email me at ryancraigbradford@gmail.com, or follow me on Twitter @theryanbradford. And if you like what you’ve just read, please hit that little heart icon at the end of the post.