\nThousands of us were clearing out of the festival as screens prompted an emergency evacuation.<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
Despite the drama, the festival\u2019s chill spirit prevailed; nobody seemed all that agitated. If anything, people were bummed that they\u2019d be missing Riley Green, Journey and maybe even Lainey Wilson \u2014 though her set was ultimately just delayed. By the time we got the green light that the show would go on, I had stripped off my dirty clothes, put on pajamas and was ready to hit the hay. (That would be the proverbial hay \u2014\u00a0not the actual hay all over the festival grounds.)<\/p>\n
Gone country(ish)<\/h2>\n
Thanks to the dust storm, I missed Wilson \u2014 who headlined in ab-baring brown leather \u2014\u00a0and Pitbull. But there was no way I was missing Post Malone\u2019s night three set, bringing the festival \u2014 and my Stagecoach adventure \u2014 to an end. As expected, the Texan leaned into his new country sound, covering Hank Williams Jr. and Toby Keith and welcoming Shaboozey onto the stage. I didn\u2019t know the lyrics \u2014 or even, I\u2019ll be honest, the song titles \u2014 of those covers, but I found myself swaying along anyway. It wasn\u2019t familiar \u2026 but it no longer felt foreign.<\/p>\n
Over three days, this Jersey girl found herself singing along to \u201cNeon Moon,\u201d finding new appreciation for country artists old (Brooks & Dunn, on their farewell tour) and new (reigning \u201cit\u201d girl Ella Langley) and feasting on pulled pork in Western wear. I learned what country music fans mean when they gush about storytelling in the songs they love most \u2014 and how that storytelling doesn\u2019t have to sound the same way. And I discovered that the long flight home to New York City is sweeter with Noah Rinker\u2019s folk-pop-country tunes playing in my AirPods.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s too early to say if I\u2019m a country convert \u2014 but I\u2019ve got more scuff on my boots.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n