As the last of AG Club’s set reverberated in the bowels of Low Library, JID appeared backstage just ten minutes before he was set to perform. After a meet-and-greet moment with Bacchanal members, a briefing on the meaning of “Bacchanal,” and filming his iconic Varsity Show cameo, he wasted no time settling into the chaos—but you would never know that when he stepped onstage minutes later. The show was electric from the second the mic was on.
Donning a graphic screen-printed button down, baggy cargos, a generous collection of jewelry, and the stage presence of a seasoned music vet, JID strolled onstage and got the crowd pumped up before rolling into the opening song, “Never”. Campus responses to the headliner announcement had ranged from ecstatic to lukewarm, but visible jostling in the pits confirmed a presence of a pro-JID majority. Barely anyone in the audience heard as he charmingly relayed the board member’s explanation of Bacchanal’s ancient Greek etymology.
The setlist spanned everything from old to new JID, with a focus on songs from his most recent, critically acclaimed 2023 album The Forever Story, as well as DiCaprio 2 and more. Around halfway through his set, JID slowed into a more intimate moment, sitting down at the front of the stage as a saxophone intro carried him into a performance of “Workin Out.” The drama peaked at the iconic chorus—“I been working hella hard, shit ain’t really working out.” Across the board, JID showcased his range as both a witty rapper capable of hype, loud bangers, but also a talented singer and multi-genre artist with more melodic tracks.
Ending while energy was high, JID said his goodbyes and slipped off just after 2:40 p.m., leaving a crowd roaring. But minutes after the show ended, murmurs of confusion spread on the lawns and across social media; the set had gone on a little over 30 minutes, and students began to raise the complaint that he had left his set early. The concern was valid—nowhere had official set lengths for each artist been circulated, and JID’s departure was apologetic and somewhat hasty. As he stated, he had to catch a plane to North Carolina shortly after for his set at Dreamville Fest later that night. But the rumors were dispelled as it was clarified that JID was only paid for a half hour—meaning he had in fact played for longer than he had to; the same went for AG Club, who escaped the same kinds of complaints that dominated Sidechat that evening. Meanwhile, JID posted an Instagram story at the airport, captioning it “I hate PJs” (presumably referring to a private jet en route to Dreamville Fest).
Regardless of the confusion about set times, the general sentiment was positive. As students grappled their way out of the pits, wrapped up their picnic blankets, and poured out the dregs of their borgs, the euphoric atmosphere of a successful Bacchanal took its time dissipating; while the stage started to get deconstructed before the sun went down, the feeling of excitement and community remained, permeating the lawns throughout the weekend. Even Public Safety was game to let people linger on the lawns beyond the prescribed time, despite additional staffing costs. This Bacchanal felt different—maybe, because it’s finally started to catch up to what it was before COVID, maybe because the return of real, bonafide sunshine and warmer weather coincided with the event, maybe because there was some secret sauce baked into JID’s performance.