BOTTLEROCK NAPA VALLEY CONTINUES FOR ITS SECOND DAY OF PERFORMANCES, INCLUDING LAUREN MAYBERRY, REBELUTION, AND ICE CUBE
Photos courtesy of BottleRock Napa Valley
Though BottleRock Napa Valley ran 3 days, I only stayed for 2. Festival culture has my heart, but I was on a mission this time. My line of work offers niche benefits, including, but not limited to, giving my loved ones the same magical moments that brought me here in the first place. This time, my victim guest was my sister. She had been talking about Rebelution for years; though their classic reggae sound didn’t quite hit the sweet spot for my ska-loving soul, I understood the feeling that a band “gets” you. It’s an unspoken bond we’ve shared since she first discovered their music resonated with her. They’ve been on my radar since I’ve been a music journalist, and thankfully, they finally played a local show. Plus, I secretly hoped that my relatives would get to see all that goes into this job! It’s a lot, and most people don’t get to see the moving parts unless they’re on-site as a plus one.
Sadly, things got off to a bumpy start as we were shoved off to the back staff parking lot. We were placed in Lot 10, a haystack tucked away in a corner next to an apartment complex—we were the needles. She was immediately introduced to the less-glamorous side of things, the non-instagrammable moments that linger like my sunburns and blisters. Still, we were grateful to be there and ready for whatever the day had in store for us. The long tredge back to the car at the end of the night was a problem for us to handle in the future. Until then, adventure awaited, and we were eager participants. We scanned our wristbands and allowed fate to take the lead, first wayfinding our path to the driest chicken tenders and stale fries on the planet. Festival culture is an amusing beast.
After fueling up, we hit “The Club,” which felt insane to do at a meager 2 PM. However, the energy inside BottleRock’s modest nightclub was vibrant as could be. People were breakdancing, a couple was celebrating their nuptials, and the DJ was playing bangers. TikTok hits “WTHelly” blended with “YMCA,” a fantastic way to kick off the day. A responsibly had vodka RedBull charged me up enough as we gracefully exited “The Club” (I got carded. Thank you…) to see what was going on at the mainstage. We caught a few moments of an indie act I didn’t get the name of, and then thought it wise to head to the Verizon stage before it got packed. One of my party tricks is managing to secure a barricade spot with minimal effort, and today was no exception. I grasped that barricade for dear life, knowing that this time, fangirl magic was not mine to be had—but my sister’s.
Our first full set of the day was Chvrch’s Lauren Mayberry doing a solo act. Her solo set is phenomenal; not only is her honed-in stage presence prevalent at a festival, thanks to years of touring with her band, but her resonant indie rock music captivates instantly. She is charming, while still politically charged, and unspokenly so. She may not identify as “punk rock,” but her ethos certainly was, especially as her “Protect The Dolls” t-shirt shone brightly on display across the stage’s big screens. She said, “You can say a lot with three words.” Her impact certainly made a positive first impression on me, as I can recall most of her set from memory, despite being sun-worn and weary by the time she took the stage. Again, I believe music festivals are prime channels for music discovery, especially in this digitally driven age. Mayberry’s dedication to making a statement without caring about potential consequences is admirable.
People came in droves for songwriter Kaleo, who appeared after Mayberry’s set closed. He carried a sort of Hozier vibe, but, surprisingly, their music could not be more different. He was more instrumentally-focused, with plenty of moving parts and a large arsenal of guitars defining his performance. Notably, his vocal range is silky yet sultry, adding a fascinatingly contrasting texture to each song, which gained momentum as the set continued. Immediately, I understood the hype; I had spoken to diehard fans around us before he went onstage, as one of my biggest gripes about BottleRock was the giant gaps between setlists. Though frustrating, I do have a soft spot for community in music, and connecting to Kaleo’s fans added to my respect for him as an artist. His set varied between danceable tracks and slowed-down acoustic numbers, making him an unexpectedly pleasant surprise and one of my favorite acts of the day, as we hunkered down at the Verizon stage for about seven hours.
Finally, the main event (for us, at least) came on, two stacks of keyboards and a horn section in tow. Rebelution has a cult following, but they certainly are passionate. It makes sense, given the genre, which is very culturally motivated. I don’t listen to reggae in my playlists, but I respect its dedication to social movements and community. Vocalist Eric Rachmany appeared in a personalized San Francisco Giants jersey, my sister visibly pleased, since we’re a Giants family, after all. Their set contained a mix of deep cuts and hits, yet fans still knew every word. I was impressed by their undeniably skilled musicianship; each moving part weaved seamlessly with the others, never competing for the spotlight on such a large stage.
Someone from the Rebelution crew caught my sister singing along to every word while wearing their merch, coming down from the stage area to personally hand her a guitar pick. It was her first time receiving one, and she kept asking me, “Was this really theirs?” She was elated from the start of their set to the end, interacting the same way that I do at my favorite band’s show. Music is like food; different flavors touch different souls, but it all digests the same, making us all equally human.
We caught a bit of Ice Cube before heading back to the East Bay. My sister is a millennial; her walls were covered in posters of rappers like Cube, so I was very familiar with his discography. It is vast and intimidating, considering he helped pioneer modern rap music. My most controversial take is that early rap and punk rock are similar genres. They are both politically charged and changemakers who are often unfairly blamed for larger sociopolitical issues. However, I was reasonably reserved about seeing modern-day Ice Cube after his controversial record ‘Man Down,’ which I had intentionally avoided until this point. His engaging stage presence left me hopeful that this was still the same Ice Cube who made me an unironic fan of ‘Are We There Yet’ as a child. Sadly, I was mistaken.
Of course, I do see the irony of being “sensitive” about “So Sensitive,” a song that calls out “woke culture.” I couldn’t help but cringe as the lyrics loudly displayed across the screen. I wondered if it was satire (spoiler: it wasn’t), but felt uneasy after hearing songs like “Check Yo Self” just gotten performed. Ice Cube’s earlier work was revolutionary, a leader of the rebellion against the very machine he is now a cog in. I have so much respect for Ice Cube’s involvement in the early days of rap music, but I can’t look him directly in the eyes and say confidently that his values have grown the way we expected them to. He denies any alignment with individual political figures, but it’s hard not to see him as one of them when the lyrics he writes say the opposite of these PR statements.
We left his set a bit early, primarily due to foot fatigue, knowing our car was parked in the staff parking lot out in the boondocks. So, we pushed through the crowd, a bit disillusioned after the last set of the evening. I bravely hopped in a pedicab sans injury, street hotdog, and camera gear in hand. With the wind blowing in my face as our cyclist drove safely across Napa potholes, I had to reflect on the highs and lows of the day. Sure, not everyone is who we assume them to be, but some are. My sister getting recognized for her fandom the same way I always had was the exact kind of fangirl magic I hoped she would experience today. So, blisters, sunburns, dry chicken tenders, and all—I wouldn’t take any of it back. Live music is the greatest gift given to humanity as a whole.