You could ding the festival on a number of fronts: an almost total lack of hip-hop (or, hell, country for that matter), data deserts that made coordinating with friends (or tweeting, or anything else) impossible, camping options that ranged between $$$ and $$$$. But Sam's millennial grandkids Steuart and Tom Walton, and their OZ Brands venture, pulled off an event that was at once completely novel, psychically unmoored from any known reality, and yet could have only existed in Northwest Arkansas, where middle-of-the-road curatorial tastes meet Mariana Trench-deep pockets. For about a hundred bucks a day, audiences got to see what sort of toys real money can buy.