For the past 30 years, the phrase “Sonic Temple” was pretty much exclusively used in reference to the fourth album by U.K. hard rock band the Cult. Sonic Temple, released April 10, 1989, on Sire Records, was produced by Bob Rock, sold more than a million copies and spawned the Cult’s biggest U.S. single to date, “Fire Woman.” You’ve probably heard this song before, deep on a terrestrial rock radio station’s overnight playlist. (If you’re like me, you probably thought it was a Danzig song for a long time.)
The Cult aren’t thought of a ton these days, though they are still a viable touring act, playing reasonably sized clubs and theaters in America. Though there was one date on their most recent itinerary that probably turned a few eyes: The Cult were playing a new festival over the weekend called — you guessed it — Sonic Temple.
Sonic Temple isn’t exactly new, per se; it is a reboot of the long-running Rock On The Range Festival, which had taken over Columbus, Ohio’s MAPFRE Stadium for a weekend in May every year between 2007 to 2018. So why the sudden change in branding?
The answer, as always, is money. Rock On the Range co-promoters AEG are currently suing ROTR creators Danny Wimmer Presents, claiming they tried to buy out DWP for five times the festival’s worth, and instead, DWP ended ROTR and just started a brand new festival without AEG’s input at the same venue, on the same weekend, with pretty much the same bands. (They also did the same thing with the similarly themed Carolina Rebellion festival, which was relaunched this year in a new location at Epicenter.) It’s not clear exactly how much the two festivals combined are worth, but according to AEG, Wimmer tried (and failed) to sell off his stake in both for $30 million in 2015. In 2018, he allegedly offered to buy AEG out for only a fraction of that $30 million sum.
So what kind of music generates eight-figure earnings in 2019? The answer may surprise you: Butt rock. I’d try to define the term for you, but why bother when Urban Dictionary already nailed it:
Butt rock in 2019 not only includes the usual suspects (Guns N Roses, Stone Temple Pilots) but has also grown to include all remaining nü-metal and rap-rock bands (Korn, Papa Roach) and the ongoing plague that is modern metalcore (Of Mice & Men, Asking Alexandria). DWP has a whole portfolio of these butt-rock festivals that run primarily all over the U.S. East Coast and Midwest all year long, booking many of the same acts as a sort of Play-Tone Galaxy Of The Stars.
However, there has been some push to broaden these festivals in recent years — for example, Rock On The Range 2016 had At The Drive-In’s first show in four years (following their initial disappointing reunion run in 2012 that netted them a rumored seven-figure payday from Coachella). The side stages have been loaded with forward-thinking artists in the heavy music realm, from nü-metal influenced hardcore like Code Orange and Fever 333 to prog-metal boundary-pushers Gojira and Between The Buried And Me. So yes, butt-rock pays the bills (just look at your local rib cook-off or county fair for proof — odds are, Bret Michaels is playing right now), but at least there has been an attempt to diversify for the sake of rock music’s survival.
Rock On The Range was DWP’s crown jewel, selling more than 100,000 tickets a year. That type of brand is dangerous to tinker with, which is why Sonic Temple stayed true to its roots on days one and two, booking crowd-pleasers like Disturbed and System Of A down. But day three of Sonic Temple threw a curveball: Foo Fighters. Inarguably one of the biggest active rock bands, they can certainly pack basketball arenas on their own, but given ROTR’s history, they felt surprisingly soft, especially considering DWP’s other spring festivals featured the likes of Tool and Rob Zombie in the headlining slots.
Full disclosure: I like Foo Fighters. A lot! I realize that’s not a cool opinion to have, but goddamn it, if I’m gonna have to listen to butt rock, I’d rather have it involve a former member of No Use For A Name. So I bought a ticket to day three of Sonic Temple, which was surprisingly light of awful metal bands and pleasantly stocked with groups I am into (the Hives, Refused, Basement, the Interrupters).
The ticket, however, was not full price, as Sonic Temple had been running a deal on Facebook for weeks, selling single-day tickets for a mere $20 — a far cry from $79.50 they were asking on their website. Tickets were later discounted even further, from $20 to $1 a day. No, that is not a typo — you could attend Sonic Temple all weekend long for a grand total of $3. It is unclear precisely how many $1 tickets were available, but based on online response, it was at least hundreds, possibly thousands.
Predictably, this made a lot of Rangers mad. Rangers are what Rock On The Range lifers call themselves on the internet. That Facebook group is nearly 20,000 people strong, and they are vocal. They complain about bands, they complain about beer prices, and man oh man, did they complain about the ticket prices. This is this festival’s core fanbase, the type of people who bought $400 VIP weekend passes the second they went on sale. DWP cryptically promised an explanation for the super-discounted tickets to come after the festival’s conclusion, but odds are, you’ll never see anything. My educated guess is DWP made promises to sponsors (among them, FYE, Zippo and Monster Energy Drink) regarding attendance, and when the advance numbers weren’t getting there, they had to get creative to legally say their festival was “sold out.”
All of this is one gigantic preamble to talk about the disappointment that was day three of Sonic Temple. As I drove down from Cleveland to Columbus, I was alerted to news that Basement — the reason I was driving down early — had to cancel their side-stage set due to illness. That should’ve been a sign, but I pressed on.
The weather on Sunday was dreary, with intermittent rain in the forecast and strong winds throughout. The winds were so strong that one of the side stages was “temporarily” shut down before the first band was even slated to go on at 11:40 a.m.:
The stage was officially shut down hours later, after many bands — including Refused — missed their sets. Making things worse, the winds picked up, causing main stage performances to be halted as well. DWP’s communication during this time was nonexistent. The festival primarily relied on social media and their app to send out push notifications, and in the midst of bands getting their sets canceled and thousands of fans wondering what the hell was going on, they continued to post branded content for beer and bourbon. It didn’t help matters that when you put 30,000 or so people in one place, cell reception became difficult to acquire. (As for Wi-Fi, it was nonexistent too. I’m actually surprised DWP didn’t try to monetize it.)
Things were starting to feel a little bit Fyre Festival-esque. Not helping that feeling was the confusion regarding water. Depending on who was working Sonic Temple’s social accounts at the time you asked, you might be told that a sealed water bottle was allowed, or an empty reusable bottle, or none of the above. It turned out that the latter was true — no festivalgoer was allowed to bring in water, instead being forced to pay $5.50 for a 20 oz. bottle. A bottle of Mountain Dew was priced cheaper, at only $5, and many people were choosing the latter. (Those two quarters are a load of laundry, man. You gotta save where you can.)
Regardless of the weather, the pricing, the lack of information and the overall feeling that shit was going off the rails, there was one thing Sonic Temple had going for it: The Hives. Their side stage, on the far side of the stadium parking lot and thus somewhat sheltered from wind gusts, continued to have music, and as such, tens of thousands of people gathered just to see something. The energy was palpable, and the Hives delivered in spades. Crowdsurfers were a constant for their 34-minute set, happening whether or not music was playing. People just needed to left off some steam. This video of the Hives’ new song, “I’m Alive,” proves my point: No one in this audience outside of me and maybe a few others had even listened to this song (it was released last Friday), but that didn’t stop the crowdsurfers:
Note how I said the Hives’ set was 34 minutes. That’s kind of an odd number for scheduling purposes, don’t you think? The band was slated for 40, and when they announced their last song, “Tick Tick Boom,” around the 30-minute mark, I looked to the wings of the stage and noticed Dennis Lyxzen hanging around. My brain ran wild, thinking the Hives were going to cede the stage to their tourmates Refused for the last five minutes of their set, and we were in for an explosive “New Noise” in the rain and wind. Sadly, I’ll never know if my gut feeling was right, as when the Hives were midway through “Tick Tick Boom,” the PA was cut and a recorded message ordering the crowd to evacuate the festival grounds was played on repeat. That was that. Sonic Temple was over.
Only, not really: As tens of thousands of people fled to their cars for shelter (and a not-insignificant percentage of which continued to the exits, giving up on what was a wet slog of a day), Sonic Temple finally updated their social media, saying they hoped to re-open the festival at 7:30, nearly two hours after they cut off the Hives. There was no further information about which bands would get to play (among the sets still up in the air were the Distillers and Bring Me The Horizon), nor any real willingness to answer questions. Take your gruel and like it.
From the looks of it, Sonic Temple eventually reopened around 8 p.m. last night, and Joan Jett and Foo Fighters both managed to get in their sets. The Distillers and Refused were able to organize a last-minute club show at the 300-capacity bar Ace Of Cups, with all the proceeds going to Women Have Options, which goes to show that no matter what record label you sign to or which big rock star you marry, punks are still gonna be punks and put together cool shit on the fly.
It would’ve been cool to see that gig, but by the time it was announced, I was already re-entering Cleveland city limits, still waterlogged and ready to plop on my couch for the Game Of Thrones finale. Too little, too late. Sonic Temple might not be able to control the weather, but they sure can control their contingency plans — and it was clear they didn’t have any.
Today’s subject line is a lyric from the song “Take Back The Power” by the Interrupters, a (possibly Libertarian) ska-punk band with Tim Armstrong’s fingerprints all over them. I also saw them at Sonic Temple, and they were great, sketchy politics be damned (though that’s a newsletter for another time). Listen to the song below, and if you dig it, you can buy the record on Amazon (and by clicking that link, there’s a chance I may make a few cents):
This has been Colors Of Insomnia. Follow me on Twitter and Instagram.