Button-downs and neckties transformed to shorts and tie-dyes. Like a reverse mullet, the moment wrapped itself around my head: Business was behind me; the party was up front. Life got better. Three days at a stage by the river, no concerns. I've tried but cannot gather it into words. The closest I ever approached to doing it was by horse-slapping my keyboard as I typed, "ahhPffbbbtt-shOOOOOOO ughhh--WOWW". What a weekend.

Here’s the story as I know it. Louisville's Forecastle Festival has steadily grown for seven years before exploding in its eighth year, last summer. Last year hosted two nights of Widespread Panic, along with a supporting cast of the Black Crowes, The Black Keys, Pretty Lights and Umphrey's McGee. Invading the Belvedere near the city's downtown riverfront in July 2009, packing the concrete outpost, themed after Lewis and Clark, with more than 10,000 music fans, travelers and home-skillets, all sweaty, all nourished, all in good spirit. This set the stage, wait, four stages, for this year's spectacle on July 9, 10 and 11. This time, the pirates of Forecastle upgraded the venue, leaving behind a scenic, concrete slab overlooking the river, for land-ho at a larger, greener spot upstream, in a 45-acre gem of a city park.

Waterfront Park's lush landscape, chiefly a long, open, grass field, is offset to the east with knobby hills freckled with new trees and tall pines. A playground sits near a soon-to-be-finished pedestrian bridge that stretches across the water toward the opposite bank on Indiana soil. Jutting lines of concrete walkways and a series of cascading waterfalls the fountains all work together to anchor the center of the park in an aquatic symphony, crowning a majestic throne of man-made greenery and a triumph of urban renewal. I first attended events at Louisville's Waterfront Park more than 10 years ago. Not until this weekend did I see that cozy downtown spot realize its potential.

Photographer Alisha Eli and I salivated at the lineup as soon as we crossed the turnstile at the barrier gate. Widespread returned on Friday, followed by Umphrey's on Saturday morning. The Smashing Pumpkins, Cake, Devo, Spoon and Bassnectar joined them, along with EOTO, the New Deal and an army of local and regional talent. The Flaming Lips closed the main stage Sunday night, almost stealing the show and nearly leaving me with nothing to write.

My workplace became a Pluto-sized memory upon our entrance. Delicious sounds grooved alongside delicious foods. Fair-priced, high-quality concert dining options like gyros, gumbo, portabella burgers and organic beef were washed down with hoppy local microbrew (BBC) and green tea. Plenty of environmental groups set stage near the vendors, wanting a cleaner Earth filled with people who are more responsible about their use of it.

This Forecastle ordeal has an enough of an urban hint to resemble Lollapalooza coupled with the downhome Southern charm of Bonnaroo, yet it’s roomier than either and still has room to grow. If the shows ran a little later, until almost 1 a.m., water was more abundant, one free fountain across the entire venue and $3 bottles to supplement the demand and camping was on site , which is situated a couple miles down the road. Perhaps the best music festival in the country would take place in my hometown.

FRIDAY
The Great Lawn that houses the main stage began the festival in somewhat of soggy state. The warring rain clouds from early in the day laid down arms and surrendered to the early-evening sun. Things began to dry for the rest of the weekend. As we walked to the stage, the Drive-by Truckers strummed and swayed upon it. Heads in the vast field bobbed as blues-rock with an earthy grit-pop tint flowed from the amplifiers. The Truckers sometimes disappoint me, simply because I confuse them in name with the Derek Trucks Band, realizing only after I rechecked my schedule that my craving for shredded guitar will instead be met by mere twang and mellow melody. Other than that, they are pretty good. The Truckers remind me of something precious but dirty, Tom Petty perhaps, fused with the Black Crowes slowed down by a fistful of Xanax bars. The rather-thin group of early attendees warmly received the set, and it laid out a good pace for us.

Soon after, Manchester Orchestra took to the main stage ahead of Widespread, ripping fiercely out of the gate with a rendition of “I’ve Got Friends.” An ambient rumble of static enhanced and extended the song’s coda in Jimi Hendrix fashion. As I stood between a grey-haired couple and a mohawk teen sporting a camo-camelback, I enjoyed the next barrage of songs, generally hung in the realm of crunchy, ‘90s-esque rock paired with animated lyrics, the warm-gravel aura of stoner rock.

Being the locals that we are, Alisha and I did not want to pass up the chance to catch part of Louisville’s own Arnett Hollow performing on the North Stage. The fellas drew a larger crowd that I expected, given the location, though it helped they were playing to hometown fans.

In turn, the band tuned in and turned on with a funky blend of bluegrass that many Phish phans would say has a scent of a mule. Locals who know the outfit, along with the disco nomads who discovered them while awaiting WSP, danced, clapped and hooted at the high notes, while the sweeping fiddle scales swayed around the May Pole of bubbly guitar punctuation, carrying all those present to high tide and green grass forever.

As dark set in, so did the strangeness. The Sustainable Living Roadshow, lead hitters of the activism tribes, and a nearby BMX exhibition donned strobe lights and small laser flares. Techno pumped out of a jam box somewhere. Flames spewed from the Cirque Bezerk tent at the front of the park as performers contorted bodies and swung from ropes. The Great Lawn filled up. The moment drew near for John Bell to step out and grunt, “Evenin’ good people.” A cloud of mysteriousness seemed to be culminating. I could almost taste the collective excitement of the ensuing panic.

Slightly upwind from the park, the city’s baseball team wrapped up a victory, leading to fireworks minutes before the set start. Fans roared as the sky lit up and explosive percussions shook the riverbed. Separate pieces of two individuals events webbed into one. Sports fans, music fans, we all had something to cheer together in rhythm that night in the Derby City. It felt six degrees better than good.

Opening with "Holden Oversoul", it proved to be a night of staples and steady groove for Widespread Panic, though at times it seemed as if they were merely going through the motions ahead of their All Good performance. The set picked up strong about 20 minutes in with a marathon of "Angels on High" > "Junior" > "Cotton Was King" that eventually led to a replication of a key part from the Sunday night show in 2009 at Forecastle, as drums overtook any hint of a set break. A 20-song set list surely testifies to something strong, and the Spread Heads loved every note of it. Maybe by missing a bit, I missed something more.

As risky as it was to leave an almost guaranteed good remaining show performed by touring legends, I didn’t regret my decision when we did. I honed in on the performance by The New Deal erupting from the electro-centric Ocean Stage, and my night went to a different level. These late-night legends had the ground bending and people moving like a neon subway system. The stage rested in a dip in the ground, flanked tightly on each side by tree-lined ridges. Bass guitar met the strikes of drum heads and rumbled beneath Jamie Shields’ brilliant, always-live, never-looped synth. Sound was a coal mine and the air was electric.

A lengthy, winding version of “Technobeam” set the grass dance floor on spiritual fire as handheld glow sticks gyrated like milkshakes in blenders. A slammin’ UFO night club hovered in the middle of my hometown park, and it was grandflash-tastic. I didn’t want to leave, and it didn’t want to end. It felt like a first kiss.

SATURDAY
A parade atmosphere greeted us upon arrival early in the afternoon. The drums, whistles and trumpets of the March Madness Marching Band thumped through the shakedown row of food and activist booths. Psychedelic band geeks belted out renditions of the White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army" and an early taste of Devo's "Whip It." It felt like New Orleans in the scene of Easy Rider, where everyone was on acid in the Big Easy. We felt at home.

Shortly after 2 p.m., Umphrey's McGee took to the main stage for a devoted crowd somewhat bigger than the one amassed by late afternoon the day before. Blues and jazz streamed together in the opener of "Professor Wormbog," which led to a space-voyage version of "Resolution" that teased (and later went into) "Second Self" following a clever, fun jam of Ozzy Osborne's "Crazy Train". Shorty after, a version of "Nemo," well worked after dozens of shows, lifted up a thorough jam in its syrupy harmony for all to drink deeply and sigh in awe. The set scorched us like the summer sun above. Umphrey's again proved why they may be playing the tightest jam-band music on the festival circuit this summer, churning out an epic "In the Kitchen" that went into "The Fussy Dutchman", then The Beatles' "Dear Prudence" and "Uncle Wally" with a jam of Michael Jackson's "Wanna Be Starting Something" mixed in for good measure before it dived back into "In the Kitchen" as fans erupted in wild cheers. It was another Forecastle watershed.

After that hot mess, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals brought the pretty and the witty to the stage, complete with a powerful cover of Jefferson Airplane's "Go Ask Alice" and a cappella "Nothing But the Water" that brought down the house. I almost shed a tear; then realized it was because I was spilling bourbon.

Cake took to the main stage near the outside world’s supper time, opening with an energetic "Comfort Eagle" to a sea of camera phones and keeping-the-time hand claps. Fans packed the Great Lawn by this point, grooving to Cake’s instrumental cover of the Jay-Z and Lenny Kravitz collaboration "Guns & Roses" and, as the Ozzy themes continued into the day, a cover of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs". "Well, we're all out of songs," frontman / vibraslap virtuoso John McCrea joked with the eager crowd before jumping into a trove of the band's classics, including "Sheep Go to Heaven," "Short Skirt / Long Jacket" and "The Distance."

Following Cake, Devo marched across the stage before a giant video screen of doodles and graphics in a scene that felt as if it were pulled from a 1980s live-action video game. Fans in plastic, blue Lego-looking hats, an icon of the band, danced as Devo shuffled around in yellow suits looking like an acid-infused road-work crew amongst their boppity new wave. I arrived as a skeptic to their style and remained so afterward. Devo was, well, devo-licious, running through "Whip It" and covers of the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" and the Johnny Rivers' TV theme song "Secret Agent Man." It was fun for the people who thought it was fun and lame for the people who thought it was lame. You want a good time? Have it. A band cannot make you do it.

As dusk settled upon the festival, the electro and jamtronica artists again moved the masses and threw down stellar sets in what is becoming Forecastle’s signature. Last year it was Pretty Lights who wowed everyone; it was Girl Talk and Z-Trip in years before. This year it was Bassnectar.

An intense blizzard of techno-psychedelic images blazed across the giant screen on stage as the long, dark hair of DJ Lorin Ashton whipped around behind his stacks of wax (or digital version of such). Heavy, pulsing drum-and-bass flowed in and out of gaping tempo changes throughout selected cuts from the Beastie Boys, Nine Inch Nails, the Pixies and Metallica. Audience members devoured it as arms bounced madly to the rhythm in the muggy air. The party atmosphere and deep subwoofer rolls created a definite Forecastle highlight, perhaps the best of the night.

Nearby, We Were Promised Jetpacks jammed "Quiet Little Voices" on the East Stage, though it seemed a funeral compared to the rump shaking at Bassnectar. Shortly afterward, EOTO took to the Ocean Stage, where the crowd started small then grew exponentially as throngs of dancers boogied over from the Great Lawn. But, sigh, just as things started to get hot and heavy in the dance pit at the front of EOTO’s stage, we left to catch the Smashing Pumpkins. Decisions, decisions, it was tough to make a bad one.

As one of the founders of the grunge era, a keynote period in music history, one expects a first-rate show from the Smashing Pumpkins. Anything less is a waste of world-class talent. At times this was delivered but, compared to other acts that shared the stage, their act deserved top billing in brand name alone. A clean, well-replicated rendition of "Today" kicked things off, followed shortly afterward by an emotional and intense "Ava Adore," as venomous as it was when released. Two fan-shaped pin wheels littered with disco mirrors sat on the back corners of the stage, with a series of large, square strobes running between them. They erupted with light during a perfect, rage-filled "Bullet with Butterfly Wings." Late in the set, Corgan's screams of "Revolution!" counterbalanced sweeter, mellow moments, perfectly encapsulating the career span of the Pumpkins.

Corgan had fun with the crowd. "When I wore this shirt, I didn't know I was going to be a target for the glow sticks," he said mockingly, enticing those up front to pelt him with plastic capsules of Day-Glo liquid as he laughed and deflected them with his guitar. A late set combo of "Tarantula," complete with a little noodling that showed Corgan can share the stage with jam acts, and "Tonight, Tonight" iced a pretty tasty cake. The latter, though pleasant, could have used the orchestral instruments that made the studio version so beautiful but came off just fine the way it was.

The only real disappointment came at the end of the set, which seemingly was aligned perfectly for a standard hit-happy, veteran-band encore of "1979" and/or "Zero." However, the band played neither and instead laid down a heavy, longwinded "Gossamer" that sounded like a dirge slapped in the face of fans, ending an otherwise fabulous night on a somewhat down note.  


SUNDAY
Music stopped for a moment Sunday afternoon as keynote speaker Rob Caughlan addressed the festival from the main stage. Activism always has played a crucial role at Forecastle, but the growing pains of the larger acts and larger crowds has made it somewhat of a challenge to work in without overdoing it. Not everyone can get along on issues, and the music certainly packs a louder punch than the politics.

This year, as Caughlan spoke of empowering a group of West Coast surfers to fight water pollution, just as many people faced him as there was turned away from the stage, watching the World Cup Final match on a Coke Zero semi-truck’s TV screen. As long as there is entertainment, the masses will seek it first.

As unfortunate as it was to see, music and activism took opposing sides at times during the weekend. Whether it was the fans, who littered the grounds with decomposable beer cups  rather than placing them in bins, or the performers themselves mocking the actions of the festival that signed their paychecks, irony was as much of a theme as was sailing the seas.

“Don’t be wandering off to the activism section,” Cake frontman McCrea instructed his fans. “Stay with the music.” On the other end of the musician-activism spectrum, the Flaming Lips’ Wayne Coyne urged the crowd to lift hands formed into peace signs into the night sky as a haunting “Taps” blared on trumpet. “Now imagine that you are shooting beams out of your fingertips,” he said, “broadcasting to every nation to end every war.”

OK, enough schism, let’s jam. Gawkers, rather than fans, packed in tight Sunday for She & Him, probably trying to catch a droplet of Zooey Dechanel’s sweat, err, glisten-drops, to sell on eBay. Closing covers included “Rollover Beethoven” and “I put a Spell on You.” Sure, the duo is super cute and fairly talented, but without the cuteness and star power, they never get booked here or Bonaroo.

The day featured many buzz bands. Among them, Minus the Bear. We listened to a few tracks via YouTube during breakfast before arriving. I expected over-produced glee and hipsterism, but I was walloped with something more soulful, more real and full of good guitar groove. These guys surely get the Pleasant Surprise of the Festival award.

Spoon showed up with a horn section comprised of locals and delivered spot-on performances of “Written in Reverse” and “I Turn My Camera On” in addition to a cover of “Love Song.”

Beforehand, local bands The Pass and The Fervor mimicked each other by pulling large crowds to the North Stage, though the two couldn’t be more different. The musicians in The Pass have taken their jazz fusion backgrounds and melded it into a fresh sound of alternating songs of strings and keys that will remind you of Yeasayer and Cut Copy. Do not be surprised if these guys become the most successful outfit from here since My Morning Jacket.

The Fervor brought a veteran style to their Band of Horse-like alt country set complete with the feel of a Kentucky Coalmine. On-point bass lines and playful harmony make this group one of the city’s finest, and Sunday’s set made for a nice sitdown in the grass.

It goes without saying that the Flaming Lips were the highlight of the night and probably the entire festival. In fact, why are you reading this? Go find the next Flaming Lips show and feel it for yourself. Lights, Confetti, “Do You Realize?” that you missed out big time? What a cap to the weekend.

Although I am not old enough to know better, I know of no show in this city since Pink Floyd in 1974 to melt as many faces. Mine is still plastered to the Great Lawn. Hopefully I will find it in time for the 10-year celebration of Forecastle next July. And, to quote Coyne from the final set on the final night, “I hope this festival continues for another 100 years.”