Frightening Night for a Festival

By Sam Bruns

It’s the pumpkin onesie that your mom picked out for you at Target when you were less than a year old. It’s the first twist-tied plastic bag filled with Jolly Ranchers and Laffy Taffy that your teacher handed to every child in your Kindergarten class. It’s the first year that you’ve successfully convinced your parents you were responsible enough to go trick-or-treating without them, and the first year that you’ve successfully lied to them, reciting cleverly rehearsed plans to still peruse for candy, when in reality you would be at pitifully-costumed get-together in some kid named Dalton’s basement. It's when you’ll soon spend one day a year pretending to be scared by a seven-year-old’s zombie make up while you hand them a Twix Mini and for some of you, it's when you will pick out that pumpkin onesie, send a child to school in costume, know when you can trust them, and pretend to know they are telling the truth.


Halloween is one of those few holidays that has a vital role for all ages, but what about us? What do you do on Halloween night in your twenties? You could bounce from party to party, or bar to bar admiring the extravagant and costly ensembles of those around you. Yes, you could go to parties for a few hours, or you can go to one for seventy-two.


"Party," not "concert," is the best possible word to describe Chicago’s Freaky Deaky festival. The three-stage, three-day celebration of all things dance drew a crowd of twenty-something party people who seem to embrace everything millennials hate about other millennials. At times it was a gathering of debauchery. Too many drugs and too much alcohol was dispersed among a sea of Native American headdresses, Osama Bin Laden masks, and other culturally offensive Halloween costumes. However, the weekend did have its redeeming qualities.


Friday night came and with it, emergencies that removed high-card performers Action Bronson and Tchami. However, Halloween day itself brought the festival back into some sort of swing, but it was Sunday that truly brought the fest to a tolerable level. Hip-hop acts like GoldLink and Chicago native Vic Mensa were both crowd-engaging and soulful on a level that some could almost consider thought-provoking.


Alternatively, acts like Mac Miller gave a trivially weak performance of already weak music. Established producers A-Trak and Oliver Heldens performed on a level that most festival DJs could learn from, and headliner Pretty Lights reminded an audience of anxious fans why he is just that: a headliner.

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Halloween is a time of year that is used to celebrate. To celebrate the cultural figures whose masks you purchase from a costume shop, to celebrate the friends that had to endure the same crappy high school as you, or to celebrate your children getting to experience the same thing that you did. In your twenties though, you don’t really get any of that. If your twenties are that mess of fear, excitement, hormones and substance that everyone says it is, then what better place to go for your Halloween then a music festival? It was dirty, crowded, and one of our cameras was stolen, but it was a perfect way for a twenty-year-old to spend their Halloween.