Bonnaroo sure knows how to press your fucking buttons. Sweltering heat, herds of glistening bodies and unwashed hair, a pervading stench hanging in the air that wavers between noxious Port-o-Potty fumes and fried corn dogs ... oh, and then there's the eight-hour, 2-mile drive just to get in and experience all this delightfulness.

Needless to say, my patience was wearing thin when our caravan arrived at 5 a.m. Thursday morning. Gates opened a night early, on Wednesday this year, so we figured we’d beat the stress of waiting an eternity to get in on Thursday morning and set up shop a night early on Wednesday.

Smart, maybe. Original, not quite, as seemingly everyone else had the same plan, too.

An optimistic "we'll probably be there by midnight at the latest" turned into a "well, maybe we'll get in by 2," then a joking "the sun's gonna be coming up by the time we set up our camp." The sun did, in fact, start rising as we finally unloaded our gear.

Ever seen a group of sleep-deprived 20-somethings at their wits-end trying to assemble camping tents in humidity you could slice through? Watch from far away if you do.

"Dude, that piece right there."

"No, no, that one."

"This one?"

"No, that one! Right there! No. There. Right by your fucking foot!"

"Geez, ok, I see it."

Rinse, don't wash, repeat...

I'll spare you any prattling about how the healing power of music made this all just so worth it, man, and get to the good stuff — the artists who rocked the tents on Bonnaroo's opening night. [Photos and tour journal after the jump.]

THURSDAY, JUNE 9

Wavves

I don't think anyone's made apathy look as cool as Wavves has in the last few years. Bong ripping, slacker extraordinaire frontman Nathan Williams reinforced the shit out of this notion Thursday night with a distorted, brain-rattling set just at home under the This Tent as it'd be at some filthy, basement keg party.

Being a three piece in a live setting, Wavves sacrifices a lot of the subtleties, bells and whistles if you will, that make their debut full-length, King of the Beach, one of the most balls-ily creative pop punk albums in years, but even so, the music held up and good vibes were enjoyed, finally.

Best Coast

The first thing I realized about Best Coast when seeing them live is how downplayed frontgirl Bethany Cosentino's vocals are on their first album, Crazy For You. Chalk it up to their lo-fi aesthetic or brazen humbleness, but it's a shame because she's got dexterous pipes comparable, and (subjectively) better than a number of chart-topping artists today.

Live, she doesn't hold back an ounce on the vocals and it's quite refreshing; a crystalline eye in the middle of Best Coast's fuzzed-out, surf rock hurricane. By the fourth or fifth song, however, their single, "Boyfriend," was played and the rest of the songs just felt kind of dull on the instrumental end. "You guys look a little bored," Cosentino remark half way through the set. She might’ve been right.

J. Cole

Leave it to an up-and-coming hip-hop artist to play one of the most electric, engaging sets of the night. Backed by a menagerie of keyboards and turntables, J. Cole spit from the heart like he had no other choice. Every syllable, every word, the gestures, the stories, it all melded and became a testament to how much J. Cole wants you to hear how a young, black male gets by in the world.

J. Cole's in an interesting position because the critical accolade is there, especially with his latest Friday Night Lights mixtape, but he's not exactly packing the arenas yet. He is rubbing elbows with the likes of Jay-Z (who's Roc Nation label he's now signed to), Wale, and B.O.B., but the brazen egotism definitely hasn't come to a head yet.

"You know in college it's like, cool to be broke," Cole remarked. "But then you get out and it isn't anymore. You gotta succeed." Right at this point, you're expecting some ego stroking about being the best in the game, but he said something along the lines of "I graduated, but I'm still a broke-ass nigga trying to make it, so I'm glad you're here with me right now.”

He went on spitting over tracks like "You Got It," the Drake collaboration "In the Morning" and a slew of freestyles over beats by artists ranging from Tupac to Kanye. The notion that it takes brains to make a hit never felt like more bullshit after the J. Cole set. It takes brains to masterfully express yourself. J. Cole does this. Hopefully the hit that rockets him to the top is just a byproduct.

Sleigh Bells

This might be is cheesy, but you kind of realize why they called their LP Treats when you see Sleigh Bells in the flesh. With a smidgen of alcohol in the bloodstream and a penchant for buck-wildness, Sleigh Bells tracks are most definitely treats when you're in the right mindset. Thursday night was no exception.

Cranking out a veritable carpet bomb of distorted club-bangers, Sleigh Bells was a two-headed monster captivating, likely, the largest audience of the night. Hits from up and down the tracklist of Treats were played with force, violence, and LOUDness. Frontwoman Alexis Krauss looked possessed by some crunked-out, flailing spirit while guitarist Derrick Miller chugged out the overdrive from his wall of Marshall half stacks like none of us had eardrums. Totally worth it, though. What?!

Childish Gambino / Deerhunter

I split my time between Donald Glover's rap project, Childish Gambino, and Deerhunter for the end of the night.

Glover was a force bouncing around while his backing band rocked the backdrop tracks to his raps. Honestly, I've never listened to Gambino before. Glover's quite the funny man so it was probably hilarious if you knew the words. Otherwise, just an animated Donald Glover hopping around the stage in short shirts and a weird, cowboy shirt was entertaining enough.

The second half of Deerhunter's set was an admirable venture delving into minutes of blissed-out psyche and sunny 1960’s pop. It's pretty amazing how frontman Bradford Cox can capture the essence of different eras of music with seemingly little effort judging by his enormous discography. Live and amplified, the Deerhunter tracks were a bit more present and beefed up than the albums in the best way possible.

FRIDAY, JUNE 10

The second day of Bonnaroo brought heat, heat, a little more heat, and some extra heat on top of that. Throw in a little dust, herds upon herds of sweaty bodies, enough alcohol to forget how delightfully disgusting you feel, and you've got a solid day two.

Conditions aside, the lineup of bands on Friday night could easily be the most eclectic and captivating I've seen in my two years attending this thing. Win Butler put it well in the middle of Arcade Fire's late night set" "Any festival where you can see My Morning Jacket and Lil Wayne in the same night is alright with me."

Hate if you want, but Bonnaroo is not messing around when it comes to serving demographics across the board and it shows. Frat-tastic bros rubbing elbows with dready deadheads, old wizard-y looking men puffing on the peace pipes, the frenetic ravers gyrating, glow sticks in their clutching fingers; they're all here, and it's pretty awesome just to see all these characters existing in one place.

Here's what I saw yesterday…..

Kylesa

Bonnaroo organizers seem to have a penchant for throwing the metalheads a tiny bone with the lineup. Last year was Clutch, Gwar, and Baroness. This year it's Kylesa, the Sword, and Opeth. Kylesa was the only full set I caught out of the three, and, as standard procedure would dictate with this band, they cranked out tracks from their latest, Spiral Shadow, and four other LP's that toe the line between dexterous, math-minded metal and a ton of audible bricks.

It's kind of weird seeing Kylesa play a huge fest like this (in the middle of the day, mind you) when they were just blasting out the speakers of our dingy little Brass Mug less than six months ago, but the tracks off Spiral Shadow alone prove they deserve it. Jumping from psych to crust metal, sludge to stoner, the compositions, naturally, were more aggressive and amplified, and less nuanced, than the record. Even so, the face-melting was appreciated.

Matt and Kim

Matt and Kim get the award for the band being the most stoked to play at Bonnaroo. Beaming from ear to ear, they took the stage hyped up on life, or really good drugs, and stayed that way the entire set. You know the sort of people who are so goddamn chipper all the time? The receptionist at your office, the kids' babysitter, whatever; that's Matt and Kim - except they play music and you probably don't fantasize about strangling them on a daily basis.

Matt and Kim know how to worm themselves into your ear, especially in a live setting, which just makes it all the more hard to hate on them. Matt belts it out, Kim beats the drums like Animal from the Muppets, and it just works. If your mood wasn't lifted just a smidgen during this set, man, get some help.

The Decemberists

Even the tiniest wisps of afternoon breeze were savored to the max during the Decemberists 5:30 p.m. set, rolling through all the hits from Castaways and Cutouts through their newest, alt-country foray, The King is Dead.

The Decemberists are a band that seems to cut the bullshit and really just focus on sounding clear, coherent, and engaging in a live setting. Clichés aside, they really do sound freakishly close to their albums in concert and Colin Meloy's dry wit was a welcome change from the frequent "thank you thank you" between-song banter.

My Morning Jacket

It all makes sense now. I always kind of wondered how people could sit, or stand, through their notorious four-hour sets, but after yesterday's somewhat shorter, two-hour set, I get it. Jim James is this distant, enigma of a character on stage and the band, well, killing it would be an understatement.

Friday night, they played through a slew of tracks from as far back as At Dawn and from their most recent Circuital. Jim James, donned in a full-blazer, scarf, and some white, furry moonboots, belted it out with vocals soaring over the vast instrumentation behind him, including the Preservation Hall Jazz Band for a number of tracks like "Holdin' Onto Black Metal" and "Victory Dance."

This is a band with years of live experience (include a few previous Bonnaroos) and chemistry behind them, and it showed in every way. Really, never a boring moment during this set.

Arcade Fire

Seeing them for my second time now, it's become apparent that an Arcade Fire show is nothing short of a religious experience. Even with little or knowledge of their music, it's pretty uplifting watching these (10?) performers pour their all into the music, even if it means just banging a stick on a table or something.

They're still rightfully riding on the wave of their Grammy-winning LP, The Suburbs, playing a majority of the tracks from the album during their set, but it worked just because it's such a varied and, frankly, fantastic album. Win Butler and Regine Chassange trade-off on vocal duties and compliment each other well. Regine's falsetto on "Sprawl II (Mountain Upon Mountains)," then Buter's haunting baritone on a number of tracks, like "The Suburbs," and "Keep the Car Running" gives us the best of both worlds and makes you realize why this band continues to be so great.

SATURDAY, JUNE 11

And now, the delirium sets it. You can only run on fumes so long in this dust-laden stinkhole before things start getting weird. Long walks from Centeroo to camp become adventures in zombie-dom; spaced out kids wandering aimlessly, some not even making it, nestling up to a lone lemonade stand and passing out in some crazed stupor; bands throughout the night become fuzzy recollections in the morning leaving you assuring yourself that yes, that did really happen; and that unavoidable veneer of sweat-spackled dust crust coating your bod to top it all off.

Even so, I can’t help but sit back and admire how twistedly great humanity is at a fest like this. Like, how many of these body-painted topless girls are teachers and accountants when they go home, you know? Weird, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Enough on the lovey end though, here’s what I caught yesterday.

Chiddy Bang

Chiddy Bang is pretty much the forerunners in the whole indie/hip-hop mash-up thing that's been catching on of late. Chop up a song like, say, "Kids" by MGMT, throw in a thick, bass-heavy backbeat, and rap over that noise; it's a simple formula, novelty if you want to call it that, but the right people could make it good.

On Saturday, Chiddy Bang weren't quite those people. Something about their performance was just, tepid, kind of phoned in. Chiddy, the rapper, came on late, and lackadaisically jumped into the first track spitting his verses with a distant, lukewarm energy more suited for someone in the crown than a performer on stage. Guess they call these things novelties for a reason.

Portugal the Man

I only caught about half this set before going to shoot Wiz Khalifa, but man, Portugal goes hard. A tripped out menagerie of 60’s era psych-pop, dizzying lights, and epilepsy-inducing visuals, Portugal’s set was a force strong enough to make a new fan out of a young, snobby music writer.

Wiz Khalifa

Wiz is just, well, Wiz. In the span of the couple months it's been since we last wrote about him, he's shot from rising star to, arguably, one of the biggest rappers in the game today. His production's still, for the most part, pretty top notch, but his schtick is just kind of old now. He's got the energy, swag if you will, live, so it's still kinda fun just watching him mindlessly roll through tracks like "Phone Numbers" off Cabin Fever, "In the Cut," and "Black and Yellow," but you see this guy once and you've seen all he has.

Mumford and Sons

Man, it's crazy how much this band has blown up since playing 'Roo last year. "Little Lion Man" took over the radio, went platinum, and pretty much verified their status as the folk-rock forerunners in the game today. Love 'em or hate 'em, they've got a knack for tapping into that uplifting, inspired vein with their dramatic compositions on heartbreak, companionship, and triumph. Saturday was no exception as they poured themselves into each and every track played for the monstrous, late-afternoon crowd.

To end it, they brought out Old Crow Medicine Show (who played earlier in the day) to sing their take on "Amazing Grace." What was a subtle rendition slowly evolved into an all out hootenanny with like, 20 people on stage banging drums, harmonizing, plucking banjos, and god knows what else in a huge crescendo of foot-tapping folkiness to end the set.

Buffalo Springfield

Was not seen. I wish I could express my remorse a little better, but shit happens, specifically in the form of the broken, not fixable and halfway collapsed Wal-Mart tent we'd been using. Oh yeah, it was about to rain when we discovered this, too. Buffalo Springfield’s set was taken up by us figuring out what the fuck to do in terms of sleeping for the night. Somehow we finagled a dismal sleeping space out of this cheap shanty, but not before missing their entire set. It was only one of their first shows in 43 years, so I'm sure we didn't miss much. (Using heavy sarcasm here to make myself feel better about the whole thing.) Live and learn, friends.

Eminem

Controversy was stirred when they announced Eminem would headline Bonnaroo this year. Something about the mellowed-out vibe people love about Bonnaroo didn't quite gel with the murderous, hyper-masculine, and sadistic nature of Em's music. Who knew?!

It's not like this dude hasn't been walking around wrapped in a shawl of controversy since he entered the game though. That’s what makes him so definitive and thus, one of the biggest-selling artists of our generation.

He really could've just phoned it in, walked around, spit a few verses and left if he wanted, but this dude went all in and didn’t let go for a solid 90 minutes. Backed by a huge band, Em laid his rapid-fire flow over tracks as far back as "My Name is" and as recent as "I Need a Doctor." Rumors had spread like wildfire that Dr. Dre was in the house, but he didn’t make an appearance during the set.

Even so, the show proved Eminem's conviction to his craft and was one to be remembered.

*Sorry for the lack of images today. Big artists like Em are pretty selective when it comes to photo access. But look out for a big picture gallery at the end of this thing

SUNDAY, JUNE 12

Greetings from the after effects of one of the top five most glorious showers of my life. Along with all the dirt, grime, and whatever else falling from my limbs into the drain, Bonnaroo 2011 is now gone, but forever remaining a dusty, distant memory. I feel like I could hibernate in a cold, cavernous room wrapped in pillowy goose down for a week, so we'll keep this brief. Here's some of the acts I caught on Sunday.

Junip

Hype can kill your opinion of a band, just kind of throwing a wrench into the spokes of your perception before seeing or hearing them. Maybe I should've just plugged my ears and screamed "LALALALA" really loudly when hearing friends boast about Junip, but I didn't. Even so, they likely played one of the most intriguing sets of the whole weekend.

Frontman Jose Gonzalez, already known for his solo work, led his Swedish bandmates and audience into some delightfully strange, but quite inventive sonic territories. Soft, classical acoustic plucks tread lightly over bongos, drum samples, Moog tones, and Gonzalez's voice soared over the instrumentation with an unassuming, humbled demeanor perfect for the sounds put out.

Most of what they played was fairly lush and mid-tempo but there were some delightfully surprising, almost hip-hop-y beats thrown in a few songs that really showed they weren’t all square.

Iron and Wine

I mean no offense by this, but Iron and Wine is great music to fall asleep to. It's soothing; Sam Beam's near-whisper conjoined with acoustic instrumentation makes for a great way to clear some headspace and drift into REM-land.

Live, they're a whole 'nother animal. Every hushed pluck or whisper turned into expressive, loud forays into sometimes swampy, southern, and all out folk rock territory. Beam brought some sax, trumpets, trombones, and backup singers on board to round out the experience and it was surprisingly, really great; incredibly different, but really great.

New life was breathed into songs like "Boy With a Coin," "Free Until They Cut Me Down," and "Woman King" with electric guitars, different key changes, and a new sense of presence and aggression I really didn’t know they had in them.

Robert Plant and the Band of Joy

This was just depressing. Opening with a down-south, dumbed-down rendition of "Rock N' Roll" by Zeppelin, the Band of Joy was hardly joy inducing. Robert Plant looked, and sounded, like he just awoke from a 30-year slumber since Zep probably last played in full, and seemingly just did not give a fuck. I'm not even old enough to pine away about how great Led Zeppelin was back in the day, and this still managed to break my heart.

A once sex god who could hit the highs like a glorious screeching eagle is now a sunken-eyed, bloated old man with maybe a smidgen of observable energy on stage. I had to run and catch the Strokes after two songs and couldn’t have been more relieved. Bad day for Robert? Or is he just delusional enough to think he can still hack it? Who knows…

The Strokes

And rounding out the fest (at least for us) was the Strokes. In the now two times I’'ve seen them in the past year, they have not disappointed in the least. The control Julian Casablancas has got to make his oft-unhinged and raspy vocals presentable and non-overbearing in a live setting is pretty admirable, not that'd he'd ever show how much he's probably worked at it. Donning a leather jacket in 90+ degree heat, you know this guy just bleeds cool like a modern-day, doped-out Fonzie and his his oft-deadpan I-don't-give-a-fuck-ness is just kind of makes you laugh and love him all the more for it.

Albert Hammond Jr. and the rest of the band were in full force playing tracks from Is This It to Room on Fire and their newest Angles with purpose and precision. No bells and whistles, little stage banter, and pretty much all the greatest hits were played in this hour and 15-minute set. Simple and efficient. Sometimes that's all you need.

….And that's it. If you've read this far, thanks. It's always fun documenting unique experiences like this and knowing people other than I read it is pretty awesome. See you here next year?