The location - a scorched, downtown industrial park surrounded by chain link fences and a nightmarish, Great Gatsby-style all-seeing billboard of the chief creep from that upcoming Facebook movie - was a dystopian joke. Limited shade led to the comic sight of skinny rock fans collecting under a thin, dead strip of tree for relief. The advertised description of food trucks was misleading...nothing much worth buying and eating (excepting the excellent brownies provided by a tentful of vegan women for a reasonable price of I think three dollars). The event quickly became known in long lines as the WTF Fest, not the FYeah Fest. Sadly, an ATM machine stationed alone on a plot of ashen grass like the monolith from '2001' said it all. Later on, thick clouds of golden dust rising into the air at sundown from the stack heel boot tracks of thousands provided some environmental beauty. Were it not for the exceptional bill - 7 Seconds returned with vengeance, assorted bands in the daytime were routinely excellent, with Sleep finally providing a power surge strong enough to reboot the people's cooked and mistreated operating systems - all would have been lost.