Bonnaroo
I haven't fully recovered from the thirteen hour days we were working at Bonnaroo, hot on the heels of Denver's excesses.

Although I missed Andrew Bird's acoustic set, his electric set kicked ass, as did Bill Frisell's. My Morning Jacket seemed blah to me, but maybe that's just due to the fact that I was tired as hell when they went on. Dungen's acoustic set: beautiful (and surreal, as in between songs Cypress Hill, cranked way up on another stage, rang out clearly).

But I had the most fun with The Streets, partly because the first two albums are still some of my favorite music and partly because I watched them with Kit. Ah, I adore her. "...the last relationship fucked her up - got hurt majorly, finds it tough to trust." There's something to be said for nearly effortlessly understanding and being understood, being able to skip a lot of the dancing around and negotiating that precedes real communication.