Bonnaroo 4 :: You're gonna make me spill my beer if you don't learn how to steer

And then there was Sunday... And man, what a Sunday it was. I started off Sunday with some fresh cut french fries in a waffle cone with homemade honey to dip them in. I highly recommend this to any and everyone. Then I went and saw Elvis Perkins who I thought did an admirable job even though I'm not the biggest fan. The only thing I could come up with to describe him was that he reminds me of Donovan. Which is probably completely wrong.

Next I saw a few songs from The Decemberists. They opened with 'The Mariner's Revenge Song' and then the 18-minute-long 'Tain,' both of which fit the festival vibe quite nicely. I've seen the Decemberists before, though, and I must admit that I prefer seeing them indoors. They all just looked so hot in their three-piece suits in the blazing sun. And I'm pretty sure there was something bad going on with their sound.

Then I made my way over to catch some of Wilco's set. I had been wanting to hear them live because I really don't care for Sky Blue Sky that much, but that's the same way I felt about A Ghost Is Born until I saw them perform the songs live. I managed to catch 'Impossible Germany' and, I think, 'Side With The Seeds,' and I have to admit that I liked them much better live than on the record. And their much-touted new lineup is pretty damn incredible. Nothing but amazing musicians who completely gel with each other.

At this point in the day, I should mention that I was getting quite drunk on warm vodka from a water bottle and even warmer Red Bull. I know, I know, not very professional of me as a blogger, but hey, it's my vacation. So a slightly drunk Tug went off to see Feist, and immediately fell in love with her. Put it this way, if her and Regina Spektor had gotten on stage together, it would have been too much adorable for me to handle.

Finally, I made my way to see The White Stripes, and while I must admit that that whole show was a bit fuzzy for me, I do remember hearing the opening riff for 'Icky Thump' and thinking that Jack White must be some kind of genius. It cut through my drunken daze and rocked my ass off. Hats off to Mr. White.

And that's pretty much it for the Bonnaroo coverage. I know that I promised a review of The National show, but honestly, I've tried to write it a couple times, and anything I type sounds like the hype of an over-excited fanboy. I just can't write about that show without gushing like a maniac. And that wouldn't fit my cool blogger persona, would it? So I will just say this - run, don't walk, to the National show nearest you. It is must-see stuff.