Writing about an experience tends to come second-hand to the experience itself. Certain moments escape me when I sit down at a desk and attempt to recall time because time has no clock when soaking in every aspect around me. I tell myself that I will keep a journal of my days, but canít help but ignore sitting down when I could be out with people and enjoying life. The often clichČd term of carpe-diem comes to mind, but does not suffice. Instead of seizing of the day, I went out to seize every moment.

Cornerstone seems to be frowned upon by those who find Christians in music unworthy (namely indie-elitists and rock critics). I can understand their sentiment. A good size of the music put on at Cornerstone this year (and in some years past) is unoriginal, boring, and does not completely live up to the counterparts theyíre so desperately trying to emulate. These bands, yes, make the festival less inviting. But hasnít that been going on for years anyway? Why should there be any new argument? I do wish that more Christians could make more original music (and many have proved to do so and even shock the mainstream), but thereís more to this festival than music.

Sunday, June 30- Monday, July 1: Driving
Tif, Brandon, and I left my home at six oíclock and embarked on what would become a very long night. Our differences in musical tastes were quite apparent. Me: indie-rock and pop. Them: punk rock. I would often have to pull out the harder releases from my collection to keep the car happy since my music was in the minority. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise because my Starflyer 59 albums would have put us to sleep (which I actually did most of the trip despite the punk rock) and we needed to drive through the night.

One Waffle House, several caffeinated drinks, and a few rest and gas stops later, we slowly drove the dirt road to the Cornerstone Farm. The grounds looked completely different to me since I had been in 1997; therefore, I was no help in finding a good camping site. Eventually, there was a nice open space next to the Art-Rageous tent where we disembarked. I set up the tent with Brandon without a hitch (thanks to Dad for showing me how to do it) and headed for the showers. The putrid, sulfur-smelling water somehow cleansed my body and hair. I thanked God for reminding me to bring flip-flops to avoid any sort of fungus growing on the floors of the shower houses and walked back.

The rest of the day proved to be quite boring. I slept, made food, and tried to familiarize myself with the area again.

Everybody and his brother decided to form metallic hardcore bands and overtake the first unofficial day of Cornerstone. I have seen many bad hardcore bands opening up for my favorites; however today seemed to be devoted to every horrible to less than mediocre hardcore Iíve never wanted to see. Maybe thatís why Cstone didnít allow DIY stages back in 1997. They knew crappy bands would take them over. But this year, there must have been at least five of these ěDIY Generatorî stages and they were around all week.

The day redeemed itself that night on the Steelroots Stage by satisfying my new found interest in punk rock due in part to bands like The Hives, and The Blamed. The Culprits played old-school punk as someone signed the lyrics below. A battle of the water bottles ensued as the band egged the audience on. The Deal came on next with their old-school hardcore influenced punk rock. I had always blown them off because Iíve never been a fan of Facedown Recordsí roster, but they put on quite a rock n roll show. One-21 ended the punk show playing material from their newest recording. Theyíve turned more rock n roll punk since I saw them in 1997, but they got back to their roots for ěJohnny.î Itís amazing how I remembered the lyrics when I havenít listened to In the Year King Uzziah Died in a long time.

Later that night we checked out the Impromptu Stage (which can always be a risk). Priority R.A.G.E. reminded me of old Embodyment and Still Breathing. Perhaps the latter comparison is cheap, but the female screamer sounded very much like Still Breathingís Dacey and the band had a similar sound. Granted, the girl was awfully cute (and relied on that too much to flirt and keep the audienceís attention), but she could not sing to save her life.

Tuesday, July 2: Tooth & Nail Day (Still not Cornerstone)
Ahhh yesÖ the day of self-glorification for the Almighty Nail. While T&N has managed to put out some great albums as of recent, I still cannot justify the existence of Tooth & Nail Day. In its third year at Cstone, the day showcased its massive and diversified roster of bad punk and unrecognized talent (unrecognized by the kids attending All Wound Up instead of Me Without You, but the latter bandís hype would soon be realized). If Cornerstone really wanted to add another day to the event, the real stages should also be open to other bands, but enough bickering (yes, my first two days at Cornerstone were quite cynical).

The Blamed opened the day with ěThe Lonely Zagrebî bravely shouting, ěOur songs have no meaning, if youíre not listening.î The Blamed played as a trio for a few songs and invited Emil Nikolaisen (Silver, ex-Royal, ex-Extol) onstage to play guitar. All the material was from their last two albums (my favorites). Bryan Gray took a moment to address Christianity and rock n roll by putting out a cry for Christians to take a stand in music and not hide behind their instruments. While I do not necessarily agree with all his statements, Bryan stood up for a belief thatís not all too common these days and for that, I respect him.

Not long after The Operation played a set of new material sounding like early 80ís U2 (quite refreshing even though I enjoyed There Is Hope for a Tree Cut Down), Aaron and Michael Weiss (both of The Operation) had an hour to rest for their performance in Me Without You. Aaron put on an energetic set behind the drums for The Operation, so I was curious how much more of himself he could put into his vocals for Me Without You. Not only did he put on an impressive show, but he did it in a suit and turtleneck (as did the rest of the band). He screamed with white roses in his hands and threw them to the audience. At one point, he exhaustively hugged his brother in a moment of emotional release. Aaron humbly asked the crowd not to clap when he shared testimony and seemed perplexed that the people were shouting along to some very personal lyrics that he had written for [AB] Life. He explained that he had completely fallen in love with Jesus and that left an impression on me. I hear that all the time, but his meek honesty made his words so real and I realized I wanted to have that same overwhelming love for Him. That show quickly became the hype that would grow over the week.

The pretty boys of pop music, Fine China, sweated it out amidst the hardcore emitting from the DIY stages, but played well nonetheless. Rob Withem strummed his guitar coyly and even rocked out aggressively on a few numbers. Itís funny because the people I saw at Fine China, I saw many times over at the pop shows. We really should have formed a club or something.

I donít claim to have much knowledge about Havalina (or own any of their releases), but I know good music when Iíve heard it. The bassist, Orlando, astounded me with his paradoxical situation. He loves metal (even his bass sports a Crimson Thorn sticker), punk, prog, was trained on upright, but plays with Havalina. However, his vast musical background provides for incredible bass lines and a great stage presence complete with leg kicks and ěshootingî kids with his instrument of destruction. And of course, Mercedes Stevens looked absolutely stunning in her short, black and white dress as she danced to a Latin-influenced number mid-way through the set. I just might have to pick up their latest from what they played (too many albums, so little money).

Iím sure I had dinner at this point. Most likely beef stew.

The crowd at Underoath proved to be more violent than I wanted to deal with, so I stuck around the sides. A kid was dragged out of the tent from being trampled on. I love how the pit kids are such geniuses. I do like metal, but I canít stand the immaturity of the kids at the shows. Metal is how I get my primal energy out (that and dancing), but I donít swing my fists around and knock someone unconscious.

It seemed slightly wrong for Two Thirty Eight to be playing in front of so many people, but rocked out anyway. ěThere Is No Danaî sounded even more heart-wrenching live than I expected (especially the guitars at the end). Their new material sounds promising. The song Chris Staples introduced as their ěrap songî certainly was the best with its poppy, and yes, hip-hop-ish rhythm.

I caught the tale end of Squad Five-Oís set which mainly consisted of danciní songs, then headed over to Starflyer 59. SF59 is well-known for their boring live shows, but somehow rose above that preconceived notion with the help of Andy Pricket (Cush, The Prayer Chain) on guitar. They played a relatively short set, but maybe it seemed so because a shortened ěTraffic Jamî took up most of the time. The surprise of the night was the redone version of ěBlue Collar Loveî with a Leave Here a Stranger-influence. It would have been even better hear the wall of distortion I fell in love with on Silver, but this new version would have to suffice.

Wednesday, July 3 (Day 1)
Denison Marrs really shouldnít play outside. Thatís just my opinion, but their music is made for small to mid-size venues with white Christmas lights hanging around the stage (perfect for photographs). Despite the sweltering conditions, the boys rocked through World Renown for Romance songs, ěSend Me An Angelî (always a crowd pleaser), and the new single (ěWhat Life Hasî) from their upcoming album, Then Is the New Now. Denison Marrs even played an old favorite (ěBetter 3/4thsî) much to the audienceís (and my) delight. Iím glad to see that theyíre using vocal harmonies every now and again, too.

The hardcore Fine China fans knew about the 4:30 show at the New Band Tent (bassist Greg Markov called us ěthe few, the proud, the Fine China fansî). While hardly a new band, Fine China filled the vacant spot perfectly drawing in wandering kids otherwise unfamiliar with their Smiths/New Order pop goodness. Keyboardist Joshua Block kept the show interesting by tipping his instrument forward in rock fashion. For the old school fans, the China boys played ěRialto Bridge.î

As soon as ěRialto Bridgeî ended, I booked it over to the Indoor Stage to see Starflyer 59ís second set of the week. While not as wonderful as the night before, Jason Martin surprised the crowd by totally rocking out the end of ěPlay the C Chord.î I didnít know he could do that (well, of course he can do it. Itís his song, but I didnít expect it). Jasonís short sense of humor made me laugh. He only said ěThanksî after songs and when someone would request a song, heíd reply, ěItís coming.î The funniest moment came when somebody shouted something to the effect of ěHey Ronnie, play ë[insert old song title here]!íî ěIím Jason.î

Chili.

Luxury is just too good to have only one last show. They have to have four or five of them. Iím sure some of the members thought that night was the last, but there will be more. I guarantee it (even though Lee Bozeman now lives in Kansas City). Lee strummed ěTo Those Who Gave Me Hope and Were My Lightî as his brother, Jamey, improvised in the background. It was as beautiful live as it is on recording. His voice is just so reaching, passionate, destructive, and sensual and it comes out even more onstage with his stellar stage presence. Other favorites such as ěPink Revenge,î ěVanity,î and ěFlaming Youth Flames Onî had Lee destroying the mic stand and hanging from the wooden pole in front of him. The new songs sound awfully incredible. That Luxury/Piltdown Man split EP will be Luxuryís best material no doubt.

Four years ago, I met a girl named Bre at a Starflyer 59 show at the Greenhouse before it was even called the Greenhouse. Barely anybody came (most likely the reason SF59 has never come back to Atlanta), but we stood right in front of Jason without a crowd pushing us out of the way. Fast-forward to June 3, 2002 and I had been seeing a strangely familiar face at the majority of shows Iíd been to that day. I was standing not too far from this girl at the Ester Drang show about to commence, so I tapped her on the shoulder and thought, ěPlease, dear God, donít embarrass me in front of someone I might not even know.î God heard my prayer and the girl was Bre. Amazing how things like that happen.

Ester Drangís Goldenwest was one of last yearís most incredible releases for me. The beginning of the title track itself made me realize that I was going to love this release and after the first song performed that night, I heard that inspirational piano line begin and felt immediate peace. I experienced a sense of weightlessness as guitars soared, keyboards cascaded, bass lines sung, and the night climaxed to incredible volumes of splendor.

After never wanting to leave those moments, I walked over to see the end of Viva Voce. I knew their days of dreamy pop/rock were gone, so they hardly played anything remotely old (even from the Weightless EP). The new music was hard to receive at first, but Anita Robinsonís wonderful guitar playing and Kevin Robinsonís new found love for keyboards actually sounded very alluring. Viva Voce seems to be experimenting with their style and is trying to define themselves outside indie-rock. Iíll be interested to hear it all on CD.

The rest of the night was spent meeting Breís friends, watching Mikemake balloon animals (my favorite being the monkey in the palm tree), and making fun of the kids at the Skillet show (ěThose youth group kids smell worse than the kids in the pitî). I think this night was when I really began to enjoy myself. Itís not that I didnít like the people I came with, but I had found kindred spirits and their kindness was more than I could possibly ask for.

>>>part two