In the Heart of Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park: A Weekend Spent Traversing the Vibrant Worlds of Hulaween, Where Every Moment Was a Celebration of Sound, Life, and the Cosmic Connection Between Us All.

October 24th -27th, 2024

Settled at camp and connecting with friends, as Hula began to take off Thursday afternoon, so many sounds and scents accompanied the smiles expanding at the Spirit of Suwannee Music Park. Considered home to so many of us, it’s been obvious to the growing crowds that Hulaween has gained some family through the years.

To Moontricks, at Spirit Lake. Western Canadian Appalachia, sounds thick as swamp water, flowed past our ears. Yes, with us all, “I’m going home” to Hulaween.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

Running to catch Hundred Drums at the Hallows before Dirtwire took over Spirit Lake, how SHE took over! Hundred Drums brought dirty, filthy bass to smack the sunshine from our minds, bringing the sunlit crowd to illicit basement (thunderous) vibes. Playing her new “DMT track” after her “year of experimentation,” Gabrielle Watson took us inside her mind, and we let it out on the dancefloor.

Dirtwire began with a mouth-harpy homage to Moontricks, different as tributaries sharing the same sea of sounds.

She She She’s harmonic vocals slowed my pace, on my way back to Hundred Drums, despite how loved and known Dirtwire’s sounds were. There, the crowd bounced like the squeaky mattress her dubby sounds felt like on once soft and pillow-like ears. For her finale, “after a year of experimentation,” she shared her “first DMT-tune,” a fckin’ hyperdimensional banger!

She She She’s guest guitarist shredded as I cut by.

Back at camp, Levity’s catastrophic sounds cut through the trees.

Daily Bread fed nighttime hips’ hunger for dance, blending over 50 years of music, folk rock, and hip hop into a seamlessly digitized patchwork of danceable comfort.

Photo by Tara Grace

Getting our Lettuce on at their regal Amphitheater throne, well feeding our jazzy funk famishment full. Ending with a sweet and savory rendition of Hancock’s Watermelon Man. I’ll never miss a moment of Lettuce at the Amphitheater again, no matter who is playing elsewhere.

Photo by Josh Kolnik

LP Giobbi beckoned, after a nutritive reprieve at camp. Armed with layers for the night ahead, we dove deep into Hula’s first night. Spirit Lake illuminated the artful night ahead as LP Giobbi cut it up on the decks, glowing in her orange halter top.

Trippy underwater sounds and artful scapes led from Spirit Lake to Killer Mike’s set at the Amphitheater. Backup singers swayed as Killer Mike dropped a rippling river of critical lyrics, and lakes of his backups’ harmonies collected us close. Killer Mike rapped like telling a bedtime story, before getting ratchet and rough as hell.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

Clozee brought beats hard. The field before the Hallows was flooded with whirling neon lights; a veritable sea of bioluminescent dancers. Her sharp grooves set hips moving, but my own hips were allured back to LP Giobbi’s more gentle house music. When she said Hula was her “favorite festival in the WHOLE WORLD,” we are all with you, LP Giobbi.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

The jubilance spilled over and out of us all. Smiling, swaying, scintillating souls shone like laser lights, dancing upon our bodies. This is why we came. This was Hulaween’s first night. Like many holy holidays, this was but the first night of celebration.

Back to camp for emergency pasta, near 1 am, had some turning in, and others turning it up.

Day 2 – FRIDAY

A slow morning rising with campfire wisps of smoke and birdsong winding through the sunlight-spackled forest shadows.

Camp QT broke into river squads… made it to Dumpstaphunk at the Hallows before joining the vigorous party MGT threw down at our hallowed Amphitheater stage. Soul-filling funk rock led to clutching trap sounds spun under the Spanish Moss— noticeably thinned with the trees they lived upon for years after the wrath of Milton & Helen, matched only by the unstoppable MZG.

Soul-filling high bpm house— in a surround sound stage— endured tech difficulties to pump the party forth. As lo-fi dubs commenced, I shredded myself away to see String Cheese Incident, past seductive acrobats suspended and the intriguingly vibey reggae-ish groove of the Ries Brothers. Despite appeal, I peeled off for the last shreds of Cheese’s first set.

Photo by Aaron Bradley

Heart-hugging instrumentals. Reliable feel-good rolled over us all. An homage to the recently late and unspeakably great Phil Lesh rang out emphatically through each ephemeral note and percussion-sequenced groove. Like any groove being dug for decades by the adoring fans among us, Cheese went deeper and took us with them, synth-keyed at each step. Errant bubbles burst upon bare skin, cooling hot flesh from the memory of the day’s scorching light. Animals then came to seize the night ahead.

Maddy O’Neil did not fuck around, bringing the grime-laden dubs. The beats made the sea move, so many droplets as we were, awash with sonic drive to move.

Accompanying a friend in need of a break from the tumult of light and sounds, we chilled in the functional sculpture of Charon, the ferryman of Hades, escape from dust and din found on our feet in the crowd…

Photo by Patrick Hughes

Midlife at the Hallows mellowed my equally old bones well with synthy echoes of 70s experimentalism. Though lost from my crowd, this made me feel sound as a baby in utero. Four musicians, bare-chested from the heat of the night, brought such coolness to our ears.

Bittersweet sensibilities met me from the hug of Midlife, past Maddy O’Neil wicked close, to camp for grub and a change of clothes. Failing to find camp and food, but feasting on the bounty of friends found melting at Cheese, there was nothing for want: only having everything worthy of wanting all around. Infected Mushroom intonations, heartfelt reverberations, widespread gyrations, sober and other intoxications.

Cory Wong & guests made good vibes reminiscent of PBS sitcom introductions, sliding into jazzy ear massages.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

Zingara’s glitchy, laser-filled dub, like depth-charged bass bombs, went into Kyle Walker’s rhythmic massage of bass. The absurd array of intrigue there at Spirit Lake—

MPH in Off Limits stage brought fire and bassy fury. English dancehall breakbeat bass, syncopated with explosions above, wubs and whoas throughout the crowd.

Black Pumas at the Meadows for vocal celebrations heard while recovering at camp.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

Making it to Tipper, the field was luminous with electrifying otherworldly music he challenged us to dance to. We were not challenged, finding ways to dance to cuts and dubs. Losing friends (again) and losing all inhibitions to dance the interdimensional devils out, it was beautiful bedlam.

Photo by Tara Grace

At a choke point— waiting to see my friends pass— I watched nearly all of Hulaween flow past. A river of glee, mischievous delights, and a wash of giggles.

Onto Eggy to end the night with jams at Spirit Lake, after Tipper’s spacey trip, we could all use something earthbound to bring us back. Funky, runny Eggy jam grooves had us slurping it like we were swaying with it. Bubbles and laughter illumined in light above our heads. Tight set, well worth another invite back to Hulaween once again. Each sung and harmonized as well as they played their instruments.

Back to Amphitheater to catch Silent Disco vibes before heading back to camp. Trap dub stuck dancers to bounce, all tuned in without interference from the bodies to sound or the chatter of those delighted beside you. Everyone had stereo surround.

Day 3 – SATURDAY

A day spent wandering through everything, rather than focusing on any single thing or event. Just absorbing the smiles and art overflowing from every beautiful face, music, and installations. Away from friends, appreciating Spirit Lake’s visuals, tea ceremony, and gentle conversations with every angel whispering their heavenly glee: Holy-Hula day.

More river vibes! Lovely way to stay cool with so many amazing people. Easy to talk to and meet new people, many veteran Hula-weeners helping those new feel like the family SOSMP cultivates among those who know SOSMP and Hulaween.

Cheese’s daytime set was bright and joyful as the sun itself.

Sculpture of sounds etched into memories, at Guavatron. Like they were chopping sounds away to make music, rather than adding to silence.

How many days since tomorrow’s yesterday? This Saturday seemed endlessly lovely, despite being Hula’s last full day and night of music.

Cheese’s nighttime set, filled with manta-ray and theatric oceanic shenanigans, made hearts overflow.

Finding friends for Sublime, after hours solo-wandering, I’ve never been welcomed with greater love. Cuddle puddle before and after Sublime’s punk-reggae vibes. Not the greatest set of the weekend, but it still brought feels worth savoring in us all.

Photo by Josh Kolnik

Day 4 – SUNDAY

Greensky Bluegrass, leisurely viewed from the shade, watching the throng gathered near in the sun. Scents, sounds of chatter and cheer heard with hearts along each note of the music. Soulful cover of Floyd’s Time, took off rocking in a folky, primordially stringed Appalachian style, gilded with keys like a sunset dappled with colorful clouds; strings surging like the wind beneath the breeze of Hulaween’s last day. Bridging flawlessly until Home, where we all already were.

Photo by J. Strauss Visuals

Watching full-grown adults frolicking like the children we all are, chasing after bubbles or dressed however they may like (as the five-year-old who insists they are a dinosaur, butterfly-fairy princess).

Bobby Weir’s first set was good, but it was the set to follow that hit the hardest.

Photo by Stephanie Port

Bobby Weir chilled the last chillable remains from my being. Totally chilled with a warm smile upon my heart and face. As the set ended in homage to Phil Lesh, the memoriam summoned thoughts of all those dear we have lost. Certainly, the most emotional of the weekend’s sets, I really had to head back to camp to shower the sadness off of me.

New Mastersounds “really slap,” said a nearby dancer we’d been grooving with. A fantastically exuberant and joyful closer, much needed after Bobby Weir’s tear-evoking set that absolutely flew by. None could believe it was 2.5 hours, so captivating as the Muppet-like New Mastersounds were. Singing along on our way back to camp, it was one killer closer.

After some camp cuddles and grub, some of us passed out while others sought final hijinks at Camp Reddit and Wooksville. The next morning, after we cleaned up camp, we were driven to “one last dance party,” and roared like wolves. Others all around, despite the crowd thinning out on Monday afternoon, roared along with us. Animal sounds ripped through SOSMP.

Photo by Josh Kolnik

While some had “more fun” at prior Hula’s, “this Hula really clicked” and left my heart fuller than any Hula past. 10/10, there is a reason we find home at SOSMP’s Hulaween. Heck, I’m already looking forward to Resonate in the spring!