This past weekend, which D spent at the Supernova Ska Festival in Virginia, was pure magic — a 72-hour dream of musical delirium and loving community from which D was rudely wakened late Sunday night by American Airlines alerting him to an eleventh-hour delay that completely derailed his return to Costa Rica. It took two hours of post-midnight phone calls and a scramble to purchase last-minute tickets on another carrier to sort out the mess before D could return to his post-festival reverie. Words and photos don't do the Supernova experience justice, and videos only barely hint at its transcendent joy.
This was D's second Supernova, and while the stacked lineup of amazing musicians spanning the full breadth of ska history was obviously the main draw, the festival is so much more than the sum of its parts. Within seconds of walking through the gate on Friday, D bumped into the guitarist from one of his favorite DC bands, who greeted him with a smile and a big hug. And it went like that the entire weekend: old acquaintances renewed, new friends made, friendships with beloved musicians deepened. One guy who looked familiar reminded D that they had met at another festival in DC some five years earlier; in other instances, the shoe was on the other foot as D crossed paths with people he had met at ska shows in New York and New England as far back as his high school and college years.
In large part because of its history, the ska community is tight-knit with bonds that run deep. Two-tone bands like Madness and The Specials popularized ska in the UK in the late 70s and into the 80s, expanding the genre's reach beyond Jamaica, where it originated in the late 50s. American audiences, however, remained largely oblivious to ska's infectious grooves until the late 80s and early 90s, when the music finally recrossed the pond thanks to bands like the Toasters, who launched ska's so-called third wave. The genre had a U.S. mainstream moment in the mid-to-late 90's with bands like No Doubt, Reel Big Fish, and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones receiving significant airplay for a couple of years.
When the music industry moved on to the next bright thing, the independent artists who had been ska's lifeblood remained to carry on the torch. After the 90s ska bubble burst, many terrific bands folded — some for financial reasons after overextending their budgets to produce albums mainstream audiences subsequently spurned. Fortunately, enough artists soldiered on, touring relentlessly and building a dedicated community that over the last decade spawned another revival wave of fresh new talent.
That sense of community is what truly sets Supernova apart. What stood out above all else was how much the musicians themselves were enjoying the days-long party. D has been to plenty of other festivals; typically, the artists show up, play their sets, and either spend the rest of the day backstage or pack up their instruments and head to their next gig. Not so at Supernova, where many of the musicians have forged deep friendships over decades of touring together, crashing on each other's couches, and helping each other through tough times. Almost every band that played Supernova welcomed friends from other bands to perform with them on stage, leading to new collaborations and unique takes on old favorite tunes. And when their sets were done, many of the musicians either joined the festivalgoers to dance and watch their friends perform or headed to the merch tent to mingle with their fans.
Supernova started small a decade ago: a couple of performers playing a house party that grew so large it had to be moved to a local brewery. In ways big and small, the festival still retains that house party feel, which makes it that much more unique and enjoyable. This year's edition was two years in the making and featured a lineup that even the organizers — a local Virginia couple who have sunk a fair amount of their own money into the festival over the years and have relied on Kickstarter to raise enough funds to lure big-name bands — recognize as being the most impressive to date. D is glad to have made the pilgrimage from Costa Rica; depending on where in the world we might be when the next Supernova descends on the quiet seaside town of Hampton, he will try his hardest to return again.
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