Editor
Adrian Roberts is an event promoter and DJ, and the publisher and editor of BRC Weekly, an alternative weekly-style newspaper distributed around Burning Man. From 1995 to 2007, she was the publisher and editor of Piss Clear, an extra snarky Burning Man alt-weekly. For more information, visit www.brcweekly.com.
When I was going, Piss Clear was a great publication, and I was such a fan. But I’m way less familiar with BRC Weekly.
Thank you! Basically, we had a 13-year run. Piss Clear published from 1995 ’til 2007. It started off as literally a zine—because, hello, mid-’90s, that’s what we did back then. 1997 was our first year on newsprint—because I worked for an independent alternative newsweekly—a gay newspaper, an LGBT newspaper called the Bay Area Reporter, so we ended being able to print on newsprint, and we kind of became like a legit alternative newspaper. But, by 2007, [sighs], Piss Clear was pissy and snarky—a good-natured piss take on Burning Man. But after so many years, especially after multiple issues over the course of a week, it just felt like we were bitching about the same things. I was all bitched out. … If I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t be going, but I needed to take a break from the snark. Like I said, I was all bitched out. So, we ended it in 2007, because that was 13 years. And the Black Rock Gazette, Burning Man’s official newspaper, had also lasted for 13 years. And, at that point, I had started DJ-ing at Burning Man. Ooh, how original! A DJ goes to Burning Man! But my day job now is that I produce events for a living. I’m a DJ and an event producer. I do Bootie Mashup parties in San Francisco, L.A., New York, all over the world. So, obviously, I wanted to start doing them in Black Rock City. But, I have to say, after two years off, going out there, but then not doing a newspaper—it had become such a part of [my] identity. I kept coming up with things for the “what’s out, what’s in” list, playa lingo—we just kept coming up with funny material. So, I said, basically, “Let’s re-launch Piss Clear.” But, by that point, I had put out a book that compiled all 13 years of Piss Clear, published by Re/Search, and it was the complete anthology. So I didn’t want to relaunch the paper, because then the book would no longer be complete. Plus, I wanted us to be seen as more legit journalism. And, really, the biggest, biggest thing was that we only wanted to do one issue. Let’s just do one issue. Most people only get one issue out there anyway. … Distributing three or four issues over the week was kind of stupid. Let’s just make one really kick-ass issue—all killer, no filler—and produce more of them. Hence, a weekly. … And the very first year, 2010, we made a real stab at being a legit alternative journalism newspaper—and then it only took one year for us to devolve back into snarky, bitchy, sarcastic Piss Clear. … We’re a little light on news, because we can’t get news out there. Any legit news—this camp got busted for drugs or this person died—they keep that stuff on such a clampdown. They’re so controlling of the narrative out there.
How have you worked around that?
Well, in the Piss Clear days, we were producing it that week. So, we were doing a lot of commentary on things that were happening out there. Like, in 2007, our last year, right after the early burn, we ran an editorial—really a rant—a very sarcastic rant about the burning of the man, but trying to frame it in a way—trying to be funny about it, but not, because we know it’s a major deal for the Burning Man org. So there was a lot of tiptoeing around stuff. And when that piece was written, we had no access to information. We didn’t know who did it. We couldn’t get any information. With BRC Weekly, we’ve thrown our hands up and said fuck it. There’s plenty to write about—about the culture and the lifestyle, and the unique world of Black Rock City. So maybe we’re not publishing legit news—we’ll leave that to other people to figure out. It’s a lot of editorializing and things about the culture of Burning Man. It’s turned into more of a Black Rock City lifestyle magazine. And, frankly, the other newspaper out there, the Black Rock Beacon, they’re a little light on news, too. And when I say a little, I mean entirely light on news. They’ll do these fourth grade-style book reports about an art piece out there that read horribly. And there’s so much stuff out there. There’s like a thousand pieces—to single one piece out is almost ridiculous. We actually have an editorial policy that we don’t write about any one single camp or art piece unless it’s part of the infrastructure, like the temple or the man. We try to keep things on Burner culture, as opposed to here’s a profile puff piece on this thing out in the middle of the playa that you might not ever find. I always worry that we’re going to run out of material, but, no, there’s more than enough to write about in Black Rock City, even if it’s not actual news.
But that has to be a little frustrating. It would be for me, anyway.
Yeah. We’re all writers, but we’re not necessarily journalists. We’re not doing investigative journalism out there. The BRC Weekly, like any alternative weekly, is done the week before. It hits the stands—the stands?—the boxes in the center camp cafe on Monday. If stuff happens out there during the week? Well, too bad. You’ll have to wait ’til next week’s issue, which, of course, doesn’t happen because the event is over the next week.
In an essay you wrote back in ’95, you worried about the “Lollapalooziation” of Burning Man.
The Lollapalooziation! Even back then, we were bitching about that sort of thing. It’s getting too big! When it was what? A thousand people?
You said you “don’t think it will ever completely Lollapalooziate”? Do you still think that? Or has it completely Lollapalooziated?
Well, I would say most big festivals like that—you go to Coachella, and there’s a lot of Burning Man at Coachella. But I don’t know if there’s as much Coachella at Burning Man. So, in a weird way, Burning Man didn’t sell out—everyone else just bought in. There’s some crossover and some bleed, but you don’t get corporate branding at Burning Man still, which is good. There’s no main stage or anything like that. Meanwhile, you go to Coachella or Lollapalooza or any big festival like that, and there’s crazy chain art and LED light-up sculptures and interactive things. These bigger mainstream festivals are actually cherry-picking things from Burning Man, which they can successfully migrate to their own for-profit, moneymaking festival.
But it’s so difficult for regular people to get tickets without a lot of effort or a lot of money nowadays. To me, there’s an issue of access to Burning Man since it started literally selling out—tickets selling out.
Absolutely. There’s this “I can’t get it, now I really want it” thing. And other festivals—European festivals, Coachella as well—there’s this “Oh my god! I’m missing out! I need to go.” But a lot of people buy tickets and don’t really realize what they’re getting into. And this is a fairly open secret. You want to go to Burning Man? Make all your plans. You didn’t get a ticket? Don’t worry about it. Figure out who you’re camping with, grab all of your stuff, and literally days before Burning Man starts, tickets start popping up like crazy, because people don’t have their shit together. And they don’t realize that this isn’t like a normal festival. This is survivalist desert camping. … But, yeah, it’s frustrating that the law of supply and demand is very much in effect with Burning Man.
What’s been the biggest change you’ve seen over the years?
Honestly, I think the biggest is the advent of plug-and-play camps has totally changed the game of how people go to Burning Man. It’s now become the gold standard—“I just paid my camp dues and a fly-in.” This VIP experience of Burning Man, which everyone would love to do. It used to be such a huge part of the experience was just getting your ass out there. You know, the struggle was real. And now, there are so many turnkey camps out there that make that experience so much easier. I’m not a hater. On the one hand, hey, you’re a busy person. You’ve got a life. You’re probably rich. You’re the CEO of a company, and you really want to experience this and have your mind blown and hopefully, maybe, bring that vibe back to your day job, wherever that is. And you don’t have the time or resources to plan a whole survivalist desert camping trip. So, hey, just pay 10 thousand dollars and fly in. But that’s now becoming what everyone wants to do. I used to be something that just a few people did, and it was a dirty little secret you didn’t talk about. Now, there are just so many camps that provide this sort of experience. And it has definitely changed the landscape—especially out the real world. You get celebrities—like Paris Hilton goes to Burning Man—and shit like that. It’s like, wow, people think that you can just go do this? Oh, wait, you can!
If you’ve got enough money—which is why I think it’s become a rich person’s party.
Exactly. Well, it is, and it’s not. But if you’re of a certain economic class, you will have an easier time at Burning Man. That is true. And if you’re poor, you can still go, but it’s going to be more of a struggle. You might need to apply for a low-income ticket, that sort of thing. Just like the real world, Black Rock City is turning more and more into a real, modern American city—with haves and havenots. It’s a utopia—but, more accurately, it’s an experiment in utopia, and, you know, utopias fail. And in some regards, Black Rock City has failed. It has become much, much, much more classist.
