Excision
The heaviest end of North American bass music, staged with a wall of subs and a light rig that does half the assault.
Four days of jam, funk and bass under Spanish moss, built around three nights of String Cheese.
Going to Hulaween 2026? Get tickets ↗
The heaviest end of North American bass music, staged with a wall of subs and a light rig that does half the assault.
Jim James's reverb-drenched howl over southern rock that keeps drifting into something cosmic and unhurried — jam-scene trust earned two hours at a time.
Sample-built electro-soul — dusty vinyl crackle and horn stabs stretched over subwoofer-scale low end, the genre's founding document still touring.
Brooklyn kids who started as post-punk revivalists and mutated into something looser, weirder, and far more theatrical — one of indie's most exciting evolutions.
Three nights as Hulaween's resident hosts — bluegrass roots stretched through funk, calypso, and full-blown electronica, costumes strongly encouraged.
A one-off collision: the festival's house band handing its stage over to a guitarist raised on Allmans-scale blues — jam-summit history in real time.
Melodic house built for the emotional peak rather than the drop — synth swells that keep climbing past where you expect.
Big Gigantic and Gramatik pooling their horns and their sample crates into one funk-forward electronic set — a livetronica summit built for instant dancefloor payoff.
High-velocity festival bass designed for maximum impact in the shortest possible window — Ohio-bred drops engineered like demolition charges.
Dusty, hip-hop-rooted electro-soul that would sound at home on a boom-bap record if you slowed it down — Atlanta sample-craft in the Pretty Lights lineage.
Chicago house royalty with a green-haired alter ego and a catalogue of acid-house hooks that never stopped filling floors — 'La La Land' still detonates.
Irish rave revivalism — hard-edged, hands-in-the-air house that sounds like a warehouse in 1994 with better sound, and the crowd control to match.
Trio riding the new melodic-bass wave — riddim with feelings, drops that aim at the chest and the heart at once.
Woozy, organic bass music that prizes texture and space over the drop — forest-floor sound design in the CharlestheFirst lineage.

Sound Tribe's long-running fusion of live instrumentation and programmed electronics, built to unfold over an hour — jamtronica's founding congregation.
Lo-fi psych filtered through Ruban Nielson's guitar tone — woozy, funk-adjacent, and slightly out of focus by design, 'Multi-Love' warmth throughout.
Tokyo cult selector Yousuke Yukimatsu — genre-shredding DJ sets that went from viral clips to worldwide bookings, anything-goes technique with total joy.
Deep, dubwise bass music built on space and restraint rather than impact — subterranean low end and meditative pacing in the West Coast deep-dubstep lineage.


A belter fronting an Asheville rock band that plays like a soul revue — warm, horn-bright arrangements built around a voice that doesn't need the microphone.


Producer-songwriter making dance music that keeps one foot firmly in pop structure — melodic drops with verse-chorus bones.
Angus Stone's hazy side project — slacker psych for a very late afternoon, all languid grooves and heavy-lidded charm.

Younger-generation jam band with real songcraft under the improvisation — melodic, patient jams that reward staying for the full set.
Two String Cheese members improvising entire electronic sets live, with nothing pre-written — dubstep and house conjured on the spot, never repeated.
Sibling duo blowing hyperpop maximalism through a club filter until it stops making sense in the best way — downtown NYC chaos with a wink.
Deep-crate boogaloo and soul-jazz played by a band that has been doing it since the acid-jazz era — grooves aged like good vinyl.
Florida jam quartet leaning into the psychedelic, synth-heavy end of the improvisational spectrum — space-funk explorations with dancefloor drive.
Neon no-wave that turned genuinely poppy without losing any of the nervous energy — DIY-scene veterans reborn as day-glo dance-punk evangelists.
UK bass with a dancehall bounce — the sound of a soundsystem set rather than a festival drop, 'Skanka' the breakout.

Miami duo fusing raw techno with Latin percussion into something both club-ready and unmistakably regional — hardware jams with 305 humidity.
Gentle, wistful progressive house that treats the dancefloor as somewhere to think rather than thrash — melodics in the Lane 8 school.
Instrumental flatpicking pushed into jazz and surf territory by a trio with no singer to slow it down — acoustic velocity with a wink.
A bassist-bandleader playing exploratory rock with the grin of someone who cannot believe this is the job — a jam-scene favorite on pure charisma and chops.
Melodic techno with actual vocal hooks — built for the moment the lights come up over a field, performed as a live duo rather than a DJ set.
An organ-guitar-drums supergroup trading in the kind of greasy instrumental interplay that needs no vocalist — jam-world pedigree, pure pocket.
Berklee-forged funk played with horn-section precision and zero interest in restraint — a groove institution drifting ever deeper into psychedelia.
Sunlit French synth-pop with a producer's ear for a drum sound and a crooner's delivery — Parisian cool at rooftop-party temperature.
Colorado electro-soul that stays melodic and funk-anchored no matter how heavy the low end gets — Denver scene craft with soul-sample warmth.
Soul samples and live instrumentation layered into the warm end of the bass-music spectrum — Chicago electro-soul with a jam heart.

Young Alabama pickers playing traditional bluegrass fast enough to satisfy a jam crowd — flatpicking chops with festival stamina.

Squelchy, cartoonishly funky glitch-hop played with a genuine bass player's sense of groove — New Zealand funk engineering at festival scale.


Liverpool DJ-producer pushing bassline-flecked house — Merseyside heat in the garage revival's slipstream, club momentum rising fast.
Euphoric, garage-inflected house with a melodic streak that lands somewhere between rave and daydream — full-color club joy.

Chicago funk-soul with horns and a frontman working the crowd harder than the setlist requires — party-first, always.
A loose, Dead-devoted side project made entirely for the people who record every set — in-joke as genre, played with real chops.

Instrumental Seattle soul with a horn section that plays like a single instrument — pocket-first funk with zero filler.
Laid-back Alabama five-piece riding breezy, groove-forward indie rock — sun-baked guitars and easy falsetto hooks, Muscle Shoals-region ease in a new generation.