At least judging by the press, music festivals are having a tough time. In this economy, they have to court audiences to pay ever higher prices for an ever-more stratified experience; in a post-Beychella era, they’re in a taste war between midlife crisis millennials, Gen Z in their raving prime and the (terrifyingly) ascendant Gen Alpha, the oldest of whom are just old enough to traipse through concert lawns alone. Coachella, North America’s largest and most capital-E Event music festival, failed to sell out its weekend passes for the first time in a decade, prompting premature eulogies and widespread declarations of its flop era.
Governor’s Ball, New York’s much smaller and far less dusty alternative, fared better. The three-day festival in Queens managed to sell out all of its day passes for a lineup that, should you listen to the largely older indie-heads gloating online, was just as disappointing as the west coast’s signature event, and with the same $16 price for tall boys. Not so at Flushing Meadows Corona Park, which buzzed with enthusiasm for a slate of bold, ultra-confident female pop acts: Sabrina Carpenter, Reneé Rapp, newcomer Elyanna, triumphant headliner SZA and, most insistently, pop’s new girl of the moment Chappell Roan.
