Burning Man Full Review // A Desert Disco Inferno

Our Baby’s All Grown Up

Sometimes in life, you need to stand and take it all in.  So, standing next to a dusty RV, outside the gates of Burning Man, perhaps the most infamous festival of all, the Black Rock Desert stretching as far as the eyes can see, Noize stood, contemplating a week long denouement to a summer of festivals, excited but nervous about the freak show that lay before us and the other 50,000 or so assorted hippies, freaks and corporate world escapees, notably many Brits amongst them. 

Burning Man is all grown up these days.  From the humble beginnings of a handful of friends on a beach in San Francisco in 1986, to the monster it is today, accompanied, unsurprisingly, by accusations of lost rebelliousness and spontaneity, and indeed its very conscience and soul.  But while there may be fewer guns and hippies, and less public fucking and general anarchy, the festival is still a far cry from the pop in a field of V-fest fare, where you’re unlikely to encounter a hand job tent, private orgies, mad max style mechanical machines ambling around, constant fire displays and communal chanting in sun bleached temporary temples.   

Rule Number 32: Enjoy The Little Things

This festival, more so than any other, repays close attention and repeated visits, as there’s simply too much to take in at first glance, even with eyes wide open behind tinted dust goggles. Noize took the easy option, our choice of rented RV and steaks and Champagne, unashamedly bourgeois, and the beneficiary of tips from hardcore Burner friends, and although spending 7 days in a tent eating tinned food is still an option though you may need to visit the medical tent for a drip midway through the week. Indeed we found ourselves the norm rather than the oddity. That guy with the long lashes and lame hot pants is a VP at Google, and that girl on the slip and slide is a corporate lawyer. For all its hippie ethos, Burning Man is not cheap, nor are its inhabitants shy of the finer things, and of making no small amount of effort.

Welcome To The Thunderdome

So why make the effort and stomach punching financial hit? Simple. Because Burning Man is THE pinnacle. There is no more hardcore festival experience. Lost Vagueness, Secret Garden Party, Shambala. They all took their cues from here, and Burning Man has more creativity, on a grander, deeper, more engaging scale than any of them.  In the vast expanse of the Playa, the desert area around and beyond the Man, mutant vehicles and fixed art installations seem to reconfigure every night into a new set of experiences.  Giant pink bunnies appear out of nowhere to play music, while epic dubstep sessions launch themselves into the night sky, tempting burners to wander from one experience to the next. Hopping on and off moving bars is the way to travel, watching the fire dancers move in perfect time to the music at Nexus as you amble gently by. When the sun finally rises from below the horizon, in this decumbent landscape, the return to basecamp is essential for rehydration and recovery activities: mainlining Haribo Partymix, racing the slip and slide, a giant plastic sheet covered with soapy water (see Secret Garden Party - The Top Hat Off), showering under water trucks, and drinks at the camp bar, before settling under awnings for some R&R, and shelter from the sun. Rising once again at some timeless age, we spent our time biking around the unfathomable metropolis, doing vodka jelly shots with strangers, whiling away an hour in the Temple, before some ass spanking by Colonel Gaddafi (not the real one), for those inclined. 

Me Casa Es Sue Casa

So what makes Burning Man unique? Its the sense of giving, for nothing in return, except a sense of enjoyment. It’s a week away from the day job, from the buy-low sell-high, dog eat dog consumerist culture. The message is pretty simple and profound. If you give, you create a bond, not an obligation. There’s no “what’s in it for me” rather “what can I give someone else”. The whole festival is really a massive gift exchange. Each little pocket of experienced across this desert landscape, from the mutant vehicles, to the camps, are participant-driven, not curated at best, or at worst, commercially motivated like most festivals. It’s people turning others on to new experiences, sharing their creativity and resourcefulness for the enjoyment of others, with no prospect of financial reward. Truly a unique and beautiful thing.

Words by Simon Owen and E.T.

Photos by E.T.

Even in the desert they have traffic jams

Camp, not an RV convention

Giant lampshade things

Lots of lollies were harmed in the making of this

Who needs facebook

Elton was here

The only way to travel at Burning Man

No, this is!

No, this!!!!!

At Burning Man, you reap what you sow

Now, that’s a party bus

In the Desert, no one can hear you scream

A “Slip and Slide”

Trampolining is back, thanks to Tom Hanks

Water, water everywhere, well, almost. 

Desert Retribution: Gadaffi style. 

Is that sand or is something burning?

Something is definitely burning

A Man. A Man is burning