Governors Ball, Day 2: Who’s the Governor?

[Note: If you missed Day 1 of Governors Ball, feel free to click here.]

Festival Tyler got to the festival a little bit late on Saturday, because Tyler Lauletta had class in Central Park. He had a couple of adventures…

He took pictures of his classmates with Balto.

Balto and Nunu

He had a Bloody Mary Oyster Shot courtesy of some Mississippi Festival that was happening.

Mississippi Festival Tyler

He downloaded Vine to his iPhone, and recorded his first Vine sideways because he had adjusted to recording horizontal video on his iPhone, prompting him to delete the video from Vine out of embarrassment.

It was a big day.

But then class ended, and Festival Tyler sprinted for the M79 bus, threw Vampire Weekend on his headphones, and raced to Governors Ball to ensure a spot in the crowd for Kendrick Lamar.

Day 2

Crossing the bridge, Vampire Weekend comes to an end and I begin fantasizing about Kendrick’s set. I’ve scribbled his lyrics on countless legal pads, and now he was mere minutes away. The sun was out, and the misery of yesterday felt many miles away.

Until you entered the festival.

The mud had sat overnight, and was now being trampled through by an extra amount of Governors Ballers whose One-Day Friday passes had been accepted to see Kings of Leon’s rescheduled set. It was a mess. But a beautiful, sunny, barefoot mess.

I had arrived about an hour before Kendrick’s set, and extra the time is spent attempting the first interviews of my whatever-this-is career.

The plan: to lull people into a false sense of security with simple questions they might hear at a festival, and then ask them who the Governor of New York was.

These were the results:

It was a lot of fun; I wish I could’ve done more. But Journalist Tyler’s phone died and Festival Tyler was eager to get to the Honda Stage.

Kendrick slays it, but that may have only been because of personal infatuation. I mean, just look at him.

Photo by Amanda Hatfield of Brooklyn Vegan

I wasn’t too far away, but the crowd around me was not as into the show as much as I had hoped. I was the guy yelling all the words to the hit songs and annoying everyone around me. Festival Tyler didn’t care. Finally hearing “Backseat Freestyle” play into “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe” live and in person felt like some sort of release.

He closes, thanks the audience, and I ponder my next move. The headliners tonight are Guns N’ Roses and Nas. Unfortunately, Guns N’ Roses is now just Axl and a guy who dresses up like Slash. Nas is a legend, but one that I admittedly don’t know very well.

I end up outside the Skyy Vodka Tent still indecisive. Thievery Corporation begins their set. They have been one of those bands that people told me about but I never listened to for about a year now.

It was the craziest party I’ve ever seen break out at a festival. It was what I ideally imagine the atmosphere to be at a Roots concert. I mean, they have a fucking sitar player jamming onstage.

Lost in the music, I borrowed a guys poi and spun them around for a while. During the last song of Thievery Corporation, fireworks went off on the Main Stage to announce the arrival of Axl Rose, and Festival Tyler snapped back to Festival Reality.

I decided I would start at GnR and make my way to Nas as soon as it got sucky. The second song of the set was “Welcome to the Jungle”. It was alright, but kind of sucky. I left for Nas.

Arriving back at the Honda stage, I settled in a spot set behind a miniature lake that the storm had created. A man named Guy from the UK sparks a cigarette and I join him. We discuss the festival and music in general as Nas rips in the background. He expresses his disappointment in what I will call here “Rave Girl Culture,” for lack of a better term. Essentially, he was tired of worrying about small girls doing too much molly and falling over while he was trying to have a good time at a show. I can’t say I totally disagree.

He asks why I’m there alone, I say “To write about it,” hoping it to be an acceptable yet quick explanation.

There are a lot of reasons I’m here alone.

Just then, his friends begin to head for the exit. As he leaves, Guy encourages me to “Write the hell out of it.”

I told him I planned to.

Just as things are about to get sentimental, Nas breaks into “Made You Look” and I freak out. Festival Tyler sometimes tends to burn through emotions swiftly.

Don’t say my car’s topless. Say the titties is out.

And out of a movie, there in front of me were those two girls from yesterday who didn’t tag me on Instagram. Can you remember their names? I took a stab in the dark.

“Remy?”

Nailed it.

“And Joanna?”

Two for two.

They freak out and start Instagramming again. They are excited that I am still barefoot, and go on to take pictures of our feet.

Joanna leaves, and Remy and I begin talking. I cannot believe the crazy amount of fate-esque things that led to this reunion. I ask her what her plans are for tomorrow. She intends to watch Game of Thrones.

A girl after my own heart.

We end up talking about Game of Thrones for about fifteen minutes, again all while Nas is killing on stage in the background. It was a unique experience. I am confident that I am one of maybe 38 people in the world (Remy included) that have had a discussion on the merits of Robb Stark’s reign over the North while one of the five greatest MCs of all time was onstage.

I begin to wonder if Tyler Lauletta would talk to this girl, or if this was Festival Tyler just doing his thing. Would Tyler Lauletta still want to talk to Remy? Would he still find her attractive? Would they have met in the first place? Further, was I talking to the real Remy, or Festival Remy? And did any of this matter?

No. What mattered is that we were there and Nas was playing and we were talking about Game of Thrones. Everything else is Tyler Lauletta looking too far into things that Festival Tyler could simple let be and enjoy.

She kisses me on the cheek and wanders off seemingly into nothing. Call me, maybe.

The trudge home is long and tiring. I pass out almost immediately. But first, I check Instagram.

Sweet. They tagged me.