You’re probably not reading this because you’re probably off writing graduate-level Taylor Swift songs and doing something profoundly British, but I just wanted to tell you that I saw almost every show at Hangout Fest, and you were basically my everything. Also, I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s kind of a sausage party around here. No shade to Tom Petty or Kings Of Leon or Afrojack or Bassnectar… or you, Trey Anastasio, but to quote the late, great 702, where my girls at? In my humble, unsolicited opinion, there weren’t enough ladies on the bill, but Ellie Goulding, your Hangout Fest set, and your Vocoder, and your extremely cool creepers (so underrated) and your warm, wool blanket of a voice that sounds like the holy trinity of twinkling stars, pixie dust, and the gospel put a woman’s touch on an otherwise dude-dominated festival. No shade to Macklemore, because his set was the truth, and seeing Tom Petty do “Running Down A Dream” with a drank in my hand, the Alabama breeze blowing through my hair, and, like, 40,000 of my closest new Southern friends was better than that time Demi Lovato drew a peen on live Internet TV. Your set was like church, and I needed “Lights.” I needed “I Need Your Love.” Not in a weird, complicated way that like Kanye needs Kim, but in a wholly, self-actualized, post-Shania Twain man-I-feel-like-a-woman kind of way. I know you know how that goes.
Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for that at Hangout Fest. I promise I won’t stalk you, but if you see this and there’s still time to get fried pickles at Gulf Island Grill or a Bushwacker and seafood tower at The Hangout, I’m only a tweet away.