The fifth and final festival has come and gone, but its effects reverberate
By Kyle Marie McMahon. Photos by Jessica Bratton.
When Dreamville Festival returned to Raleigh this spring, it brought more than music—it brought a sense of connection that felt both familiar and fleeting. This was the fifth and final installment of the festival in its current form, and while the news felt bittersweet (the word most often used), its impact on the city and community was undeniable.
Photographer Jessica Bratton and I attended for our second year in a row. Last year, we showed up as fans—with me only having been with Midtown for two months. We met for the first time in the Lyft on the way to Dorothea Dix Park. The traffic and roundabout journey our driver took meant we had a little extra time to get to know each other. I was happy to learn we were the same age, “elder Millennials” is the term I like to use, which made me feel a bit less awkward. We both had no idea what to expect, and while we had a great time, I think we both left feeling a touch overwhelmed.
This year, we felt like veterans. We knew the best time to arrive, where to go to cool down, when to capture the best images, and when to just enjoy the experience. Not only did she and I grow closer as colleagues and friends (ask us sometime about our golf cart experience), we left feeling like part of something bigger. From the early Friday arrivals to Sunday night’s closing set, the crowd pulsed with joy, style, and hometown pride. We found ourselves not just capturing the event—but connecting with it and each other.
“I’ve been with Dreamville since day one,” says rapper Damon Coleman, better known as Omen. “I’ve known Cole since he was 15. I knew him since it was an idea he had, to call something Dreamville, to a whole label, to a whole festival. It’s amazing to see the power of belief in an idea.”
Charlotte’s own Luther Nicholson, who goes by Lute, echoes the sentiment. “It has been a way to set a foundation for the community. Dreamville Fest was to Raleigh what CIAA was to Charlotte. It generates revenue for the city and community and gives Raleigh a chance to build something. Dreamville Fest has Raleigh bubbling at the moment, and I think that’s fire.” CIAA is the Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association basketball tournament, which Charlotte hosted for 15 years and brought in over $600 million in economic impact.
While the economic impact of the festival can’t be denied, over the course of its run, Dreamville became more than a stage for music and revenue. It became a platform for culture, for togetherness, and for community. Vendors and festivalgoers from every corner of the state (and far beyond) came together to celebrate. This wasn’t just a festival; it was a family reunion—backdropped by beats, creativity, and unmistakable style.
The performers weren’t the only ones feeling the community spirit. Attendees turned out in bold fashion—cropped jerseys, oversized sunglasses, flowers, gold teeth, crocheted bucket hats, braids, and personal flair—and supported local makers, creators, and causes in the process.
Every year, Lute hosted Gold Mouf Garage, one of the many free events in the days leading up to the festival. An active member of his community in Charlotte, it is just one of the ways he gives back. “I do Gold Mouf Garage for the folks in the city who didn’t get a chance to get into the festival or got to the city early and wanted a place to hang out. I also want to give my fans and the people of Raleigh a little taste of who I am and a little bit of Charlotte,” he says. “I remember where I started and where I came from. I give myself grace in that and I always want to give back because I know how it felt when I was in those positions and that space. I’m for giving back, knowing I’ll get that energy back.”
Both Lute and Omen would love to be a part of the new iteration Raleigh has planned to replace Dreamville. “Obviously, it being Dreamville, it means more to me,” says Omen, “but any festival that would be similar to this, I’d want to be a part of, because it’s such a positive vibe. It feels like a community environment. So it’s bittersweet, but I’m still grateful for the years we did it. I’m glad it’s going to continue in a different way. It’s really good for the city.”
Even though this may have been the final Dreamville Fest as we know it, the energy it stirred isn’t going anywhere. As Lute says, “Whatever is in your heart, just do it.” In Raleigh, Dreamville gave us something lasting: a vision of what music, unity, and creativity can do—together.
