We Didn't Go To Shaky Knees This Year!

Until this year, we had been to every day of every year's Shaky Knees festival since the inaugural event in 2013 at the then-new Old Fourth Ward Park.  However, even though we had tickets, we almost didn't go that year as we were intimidated by the forecast of 100% chance of rain for both days. But at the latest minute we thought, "Screw it," put on our best wet-weather hiking gear, and endured the elements with 9,000 other hardy music lovers.  Even though the mud got so deep by the food vendors that you sank to mid-shin and it felt like quicksand and everyone was soaked to the bone, there was a sense of camaraderie, of community, that we were all in this together for the love of music. 

In 2014, possibly to avoid sinking in the mud again, Shaky Knees moved to a large, treeless parking lot at Atlantic Station, a mixed-use development in Midtown. It rained again that year, but some people who were at the 2013 edition were back again and wearing t-shirts that proudly proclaimed "100% Chance of Rain" as a point of pride.  Shaky Knees expanded to three days that year and there was barely enough room to move around due to the physical limitations of the parking lot size, and when it wasn't raining, the sun scorched everybody in what felt like a large asphalt solar-powered frying pan.  But we still had fun.

We went again in 2015 when the event was held in Central Park, which felt like the festival had finally found the right venue and the weather for once wasn't a factor.  Although the capacity expanded to 40,000 people, up from the 9,000 of 2013, the park's grassy hills and trees were much more accommodating than the Atlantic Station parking lot.  That was a good year.

But despite the comfort of Central Park, for some reason the 2016 festival was held at downtown's Centennial Olympic Park, it's fourth location in four years.  We went that year with B., our adult daughter, who primarily was there just to see Florence + The Machine (and spend some q.t. with her old man, of course).  The weather cooperated, but downtown everything from the stages to the audience just seemed bigger and louder.  Although in prior years we had bought General Admission tickets and were proud to mix it up with the proletariat masses, that year we splurged on V.I.P. passes as 40,000 were a few more proles than we really wanted to rub shoulders with, and the benefits, from free beer to preferred viewing areas to catered meals, more than justified the additional cost.

The 2017 festival was at Centennial Park again, but in 2018, Shaky Knees moved back to Central Park, where it belongs, in our opinion.  It felt like coming back home again.  We continued to go with the V.I.P. passes, and while we weren't in the frenzied throng of 20-somethings in front of the stage (unless we wanted to be), we were dismayed at the general cluelessness of the predominantly white, suburban audience in the V.I.P. section. "Has anybody even heard of any on these bands, amirite?" and "Hey, at least the musicians in Greta Van Fleet know how to play their own instruments."  

What we had liked about Shaky Knees is that year after year, it had by far the most indie lineup of any of the major music festivals, which is to say it wasn't the mainstream Music Midtown, but the Music Midtown audience was present at the Shaky Knees V.I.P. section.   

So, long story (we know, TMI, tl/dr), but this year, the Shaky Knees lineup was the blandest, most mainstream of any year yet, perhaps as a concession to the big-bucks V.I.P. ticket holders and an understandable desire to make a profit.   No promoter wants to lose money, and even if Shaky Knees still doesn't have big-name rappers and d.j.s as the headliners like most festivals do nowadays, this year's headliners of Beck, Incubus, Cage the Elephant and Tears for Fears are more oriented toward suburban boomers and 90s nostalgists than that audience willing to stand in the pouring rain in 2013 to hear The Antlers and The Joy Formidable.   

We've probably also been spoiled by the outstanding fan experience and adventurous musical programming of the Big Ears Festival up in Knoxville.  I guess in anatomical terms, we've progressed from Shaky Knees to Big Ears. 

So this year, for the very first time, we decided not to go to Shaky Knees.  Too crowded, much of the audience is clearly clueless, you're basically just standing in a field for 6 to 8 hours a day for three straight days, and the lineup, in our opinion, sucks this year.  Sure, it would be great to see Sharon Van Etten again, not to mention Deerhunter and the Oh Sees, and yes, we recognize the irony that The Joy Formidable are back again this year, but after that, the pickings get pretty slim.  For example, right now, right this very minute, we're missing Honne (who?) and The Murlocs (again, who?), or else we'd be waiting to see Caamp (no idea) and Grouplove (we know them at least, but they're too pop for our taste).  That, and the thunder we hear rumbling outside and threatening rain again reminds us that we made the right choice.

And finally, okay, this is just humor - even the suburbanite V.I.P. crowd at Shaky Knees isn't as clueless and vapid as the Californian Coachella fans, but David Spade absolutely nails our objections to Shaky Knees in this hilarious video.