Honey pot stage at Electric Honey on Sept. 26, 2025. (Courtesty, Aidan Barton)
What began as a modest 150-person camping trip in Moab, Utah, with folks listening to a few artists while sampling mushroom honey, has grown into a full-scale festival drawing hundreds of attendees. This year, the Electric Honey Festival reached a cap of 900 people, with about 800 attendees and 100 performers.
The festival has grown organically from a small, intimate gathering into a vibrant community event. Founded and curated by a team of University of Colorado Boulder students and alumni, Justin Hanson, Matthew Nelson and Theo Pagani, later joined by Caden Bienvenue and Bradley Hansen.
This year’s lineup was stacked, with performances starting in the early afternoon and continuing until 6 a.m. across three stages. The main stage, called the Honey Pot, hosted live bands, DJs and yoga sessions, featuring artists like Dirty Turkey and Dennett. The Desert Yacht stage catered to the DJ crowd, while the Aqua Lounge showcased bands such as Santa Ana Rodeo and Bluehouse.
Eating Flowers performing at Electric Honey on Sept. 27, (Courtesy, Aidan Barton)
Electric Honey has also expanded beyond music to include wellness and art. Festival goers participated in yoga classes, wellness workshops, henna, bracelet making, painting and even tattoos, blurring the line between festival and immersive experience.
Bienvenue, shared his excitement about the festival’s growth, “Being part of Electric Honey has been incredible. It’s not just about music, it’s about creating a space where people can express themselves, connect with others and feel completely free,” he said.
Bienvenue attended the first Electric Honey in 2023 as a guest and fell in love with the concept, joining the team the following year.
Many attendees agreed that the festival’s vibe sets it apart from others. Quinn Hutchinson, who attended for the second year, said the weekend was transformative.
“It’s raw, natural, you can be the best version of yourself in a safe place,” Hutchinson said. “I love the community here.”
Zumba class at Electric Honey on Sept. 27, 2025. (Courtesy, Ricardo Goytia)
That sense of belonging echoed throughout the crowd.
“It felt like we just rediscovered Woodstock,” said Sydney Boyd, who attended the very first Electric Honey. “It’s such a close-knit community and keeps growing every year. It really was my first experience in college where everyone was happy and open to new connections. Being disconnected from the rest of the world for the weekend is so healing.”
Along with music throughout the day, a “honey ceremony” was held on the second day. The founders gathered everyone in a section of the land that was closed for the rest of the weekend to share their love for the festival and its spirit. Then, attendees were encouraged to meet new people and exchange small gifts.
The familial energy rippled through the performances, too. Artists embraced the crowd’s openness, feeding off the collective freedom.
Honey Ceremony on Sept. 27, 2025. (Courtesy, Lucinda Saiya)
“It’s so different from other festivals I’ve performed at. It felt like Burning Man,” said Ethan Sandoval, performing as Saxon.
“Seeing no phones in the crowd was refreshing. I played tracks that fit the Electric Honey vibe, more freeing than typical shows.”
With phones tucked away all weekend, conversations flowed naturally into the night, and friendships blossomed.
“Everyone has to talk to each other and have real-life experiences,” said Abby Cannon, attending her second year. “I love this place. It’s definitely one of the top three best experiences of my life. It’s like taking a break from reality.”
Hanson, one of the founders, also performed as a part of the experience.
“Performing at the festival was the highlight for me,” Hanson said. “It’s extremely rewarding creating a massive party with extravagant production, lights, sound, lots of people and then playing. The Dirty Turkeys hadn’t been together or practiced since our summer tour ended in July, so we met in a friend’s RV an hour before the set and ran through the setlist.”
Through the different events, Electric Honey has built a rare place that feels less like a festival and more like a shared dream.
Paraglider at Electric Honey on Sept. 26 ,2025. (Courtesy, Madelena photography)
As the sun rose over the red rocks on the final morning, the desert shimmered with exhaustion, joy and a quiet understanding: Electric Honey isn’t just a weekend, it’s a feeling that lingers long after the music fades.
“We’re ultimately trying to cultivate something revolutionary,” Hanson said. “A movement. Zapping people out of their stressful, work-filled lives and providing a peaceful haven with music, art, creativity, kindness and authentic human connection.”
The small team’s dedication keeps the dream alive and they’re already planning their next event. It might even involve skiing. Stay tuned.
Contact CU Independent Arts Editor Lou Leclercq at louison.leclercq@colorado.edu
