Opinion | How the Head in the Clouds festival made space for Asian self-expression

At 88Rising’s flagship event, artists and concertgoers alike had the opportunity to celebrate their Asian backgrounds through music, art and cuisine. Photo illustration by DANIEL PEARSON, Photo Editor

This wouldn’t be much of an opinion piece if I were simply to say the Head in the Clouds music festival is very, very Asian. It’s practically undeniable.

That’s because the event, which ran from Nov. 6-7, is the product of 88Rising — the music company that recently provided the soundtrack for “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” and whose signed artists are overwhelmingly from Asian backgrounds.

Featuring big names like Joji and CL in addition to more than a few multilingual performances, it’s not hard to see why Head in the Clouds has been called the “Asian Coachella.” The two-day show is the “first Asian-centric music festival in the US” and part of the “pan-cultural hitmaker” that is 88Rising.

So as I stood there at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, with Head in the Clouds back for its third year, I wasn’t surprised to hear Saweetie on stage echoing that same thought. “This is an Asian festival,” she told the crowd, which cheered back at the Filipina Chinese performer. 

Hell yeah it is. But it made me think, “What makes something an ‘Asian festival, anyway?’”

I think most people would agree Head in the Clouds feels Asian in several different ways. The festival’s lineup was very Asian, the 626 Night Market dishes tasted very Asian and the grounds certainly looked very Asian, as they were covered with visual motifs like bonsai trees and various “88” signs, which allude to “double happiness.”

But something about that answer felt incomplete to me. What wasn’t examined much in the media coverage for Head in the Clouds was the way the audience — many from various Asian backgrounds — responded to those specifically Asian aspects of the festival. 

I wouldn’t typically put this much weight on audience coverage when writing about festivals, but I realized that the moments that resonated with me the most, where I wanted to say, “Yup, this is an Asian music festival,” were mainly the reactions I saw and had to the show, and not so much the content of the show itself.

What stuck with me wasn’t Saweetie calling out her “Asian kings and queens” in the crowd, as much as it was my friend and I pointing at each other as we heard her mention our heritage. Our tasty bulgogi lunch didn’t matter to us as much as hearing a fellow concertgoer tell us, “It’s pretty cool, seeing all this Asian food at a festival. I’ve never seen that before.”

To the credit of many music reviewers, I imagine it’s hard to capture the impact these interactions have when you’re likely rushing between sets and trying to get backstage interviews. 

I’m sure this is extra difficult to capture if you’re not from an Asian background. It’s (thankfully) not the norm to walk up to an attendee and ask, “How does this event make you feel as an Asian American?”

But the sad byproduct of these complications, when put into writing or conversation, is an oversimplification of Head in the Clouds and its Asian identity. “Asian-ness” at Head in the Clouds is then boiled down to material things like the venue’s boba stands, anime-esque iconography or the mere headcount of Asian performers.

Granted, those are all valid Asian aspects of the event, but those kinds of descriptions could lead a newcomer to think that the festival is a place where “being Asian” is defined by what’s being performed, on display or for sale.

In reality, it’s the exact opposite. Head in the Clouds proved to be a space where Asian concert goers could express their identities in their own way while still acknowledging each other’s different experiences. 

When NIKI took the stage and said she never expected to become a pop star with her Indonesian roots, it resonated on a very personal level with many of the concert goers, including myself. Her journey to that stage wasn’t just a success story; it was an Asian success story.

It brought me back to a time where I had to explain to an Uber driver (why is it always the Uber drivers?) that I dreamed of working as a writer, despite his insistence that I must be going into computer science or medicine. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

Seeing NIKI on stage, in all her sparkly glory, reminded me those barriers are arbitrary. What she said may have tapped into different memories for different attendees, but it still elicited the same feeling of overcoming the odds as someone with an Asian heritage. 

That’s a distinctly Asian component of Head in the Clouds that’s hard to capture in a short summary of the festival. 

Expressing that “Asian-ness” means different things to different people, and the beauty of the crowd is that you’ll both learn how others define the term, and find others who match your own definition. 

For one newfound friend and I, that meant speaking Japanese to each other for the whole event. 

Why, you ask? Are either of us native speakers? No, and frankly, it was just to add some chaos to our day, as we spoke in very stunted sentences. While those antics may have just been for fun, it all still came from my desire to learn Japanese and connect more with my heritage. 

I’ll admit that I’m usually hesitant to speak the language, even around other learners — something probably tied to occasionally not feeling “Asian enough,” but that’s for another article. I do think my confidence in sharing that with a new friend, of all people, speaks volumes about the kind of environment Head in the Clouds provides.

Similarly, it wasn’t uncommon to see someone’s eyes light up as they heard a song in their native language, or realized the festival featured a certain snack from their childhood.

Not everyone spoke Japanese all day, and I think that’s ultimately what made Head in the Clouds for me: the knowledge that everyone agreed it was an Asian festival, but if you were to ask each concert goer why, you’d hear a thousand different answers.