The Many Faces Of Hard Summer Festival

Los Angeles is a city to be proud of. 

I tried sticking my head out of the window on the way from Westchester into Inglewood, but my Uber driver quickly vetoed it. Instead, he turned up the radio and the AC, as many are doing in the heat of the Los Angeles summer. A girl in bedazzled booty shorts screamed with joy as she cut us off in a push cart. 

Hard Summer is a distinctly young festival. With roughly seventy five thousand attendees per day, at least half of that number are teenagers who spent their money on live music. But while the festival might be thought of as a place for kids to party outside of family homes, its identity is also distinctly Los Angeles. Planes and helicopters from LAX fly overhead every thirty minutes. In every crowd, people in L.A. caps, Mexico jerseys, and “Ice Out” flags stand elbow-to-elbow beneath palm trees. 

Across five sprawling stages next to SoFi Stadium, the kids were decked out and ready to dance.

Anonymous.

Nathaly, 18, Los Angeles.

Given the scale of the festival, the list of agencies on the grounds goes on; Sheriff, LAPD, Inglewood PD, Hawthorne PD, L.A. Fire. Still, you can’t help but laugh when you see them walking through a crowd of girls headed to Tokischa.

Brooke, 23, Bahrain (Left), Zach, 28, Alabama (Center), Kendall, 27, Alabama (Right).

In an era defined by algorithmic silos and online friends, it’s good to know that young adults aren’t leaving their beliefs at home.

Valentin, 22, California, (Left) Brooke, 22, California, (Right),

Over two days, I both accumulated and lost handfuls of trinkets. My pockets were stuffed with stickers and, randomly, tooth-sized clay dragons. Trying not to be a glutton, I pulled my recently acquired “PLUR!” bracelet over a stranger’s hand. This was a new experience for me.

Through all of the city’s upheaval, best not to forget who makes L.A., L.A.

Anonymous.

By roughly 5PM each day I had a layer of sweat on me, some of which was mine and some of which was definitively not.

I almost passed out at MCR-T, then found my friends on the screens at Shy Girl (Club Shy). Brutalismus 3000 rocked the world, closing out the festival with a cover of “Kids” by MGMT. Maybe a little bit on the nose.

At the end of the night, SoFi stadium neighbors sat on their porches playing Chris Lake at passersby on phone speakers - either making fun or joining in. A man on a podium preached to boys in ripped skinny jeans, condemning them for sinning (dancing, doing drugs, drinking). People laughed at him and walked past, headed to their respective pockets of L.A.. 

Tough shit.

Find out more about Hard Summer Festival, here.