Gov Ball memories

Words and photos by Sam Singh 

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Before Sunday night’s downpour turned the fields of Randall’s Island into a sodden marsh, before streaks of lightning illuminated thunderous skies in a show wholly Nature’s own, before a curtailed bill and frantic mass exodus… the Governors Ball Music Festival was alive, bright, and pulsing.

The first day of the festival opened under ideal conditions, attendees shuffling into the sunny compound to the sounds of alt-rock group Deal Casino at the GOVBALLNYC Stage and pop songstress Njomza at the Honda Stage. Stretching out on unfurled blankets, denim jackets, and dry patches of grass, laid back festivalgoers prepared to bask in the afternoon’s euphonious rays. Meanwhile, at front-of-stage barriers across the grounds, revelers stood by to witness their favorite (and new favorite) acts.

Just beyond the entrance, I stopped at a picnic table to apply sunscreen. From a nearby food stand, the undeniable aroma of french fries wafted. Sitting for a moment to enjoy some, I sunk into the energetic chatter around me, the pounding speakers just around the bend, the distant cheers. The camaraderie between attendees and shared excitement evoked memories of summer camp, only this late-spring three-day fling seemed to promise so much more than a hike and a jump in the lake.

After taking a turn around all of the major attractions to get my bearings, I wandered over to the Bacardí Stage in time to catch South Carolina rock band Hundredth, whose chill vibes had the crowd swaying. Over the course of the next few hours and into the weekend, following the breeze from stage to stage, I would encounter a slew of fresh and familiar faces making an impression, artists not simply performing but also managing to form a strong sense of togetherness among fans and curious onlookers with as little as a gesture and a feeling.

From the determined fans leaping over (and into) mud puddles in pristine sneakers during Hippo Campus’ set to those beaming under The Voidz’ lasers, chanting along to Tyler, the Creator, twirling to the tones of The 1975, and bawling in evening mist to Florence + the Machine, in every scene of 2019’s Governors Ball, the efforts of the festival and musicians are present, but the energy of the crowd is just as prominent.

I was toward the front of the GOVBALLNYC Stage on Sunday night following Nas’ performance when the initial evacuation notice was given. Festival management had been monitoring weather reports all day tracking the movement of a storm, and it was about to hit Randall’s Island. Headlining indie-rock legends The Strokes would not be able to play. I saw the expressions around me turn from joyful and expectant to disbelieving and angry. The first stages of grief. But then, from somewhere in the chaos, a voice rose:

“LAST NITE–”

Others joined.

“SHE SAID–”

Line by line, the chorus grew. I felt my own lips forming the words. It seemed every voice in the crowd had become one. Onstage, a crew had already begun disconnecting and removing equipment in preparation for the inevitable. Above, thick clouds churned, obscured by nightfall. The Strokes could not play, but for a moment, we didn’t need them. Our spirit enough, rising to meet the sudden rains.