Tyler, The Creator performing on Friday night at Hinterland Music Festival 2025. — photo by Jo Allen/Little Village

This August, as campers and day-passholders streamed into the expanded grounds of Hinterland Music Festival, the question wasn’t just whether the music would be good. The lineups have always delivered — while becoming more diverse and high-profile over the years — and promised to do so again with the likes of Tyler, the Creator, Kacey Musgraves and Lana Del Rey topping the bill Aug. 1, 2 and 3.

The question was how fans would respond to big changes to the rural Iowa festival, and whether the heat, crowding and dehydration that plagued the previous summer’s outing would return. Last year’s logistical headaches hampered the reputation of what has become one of the biggest and best music festivals in the Midwest.

For festival director Sam Summers, the stakes were high. “Our goal was to recapture the trust of people and show that we can pull off an event like this,” he said.

Over ambitious, under prepared

Set in surprisingly scenic rolling hills outside of St. Charles, about 30 minutes south of Des Moines, Hinterland has earned praise for its relaxed atmosphere and dynamite lineups featuring established stars and up-and-comers. Relatively unknown artists at the time of booking, such as Chappell Roan, Tyler Childers, Zach Bryan and Maggie Rogers, would explode by the time the event rolled around, or not long after their Hinterland performances. Fans had grown to love the chill vibe with onsite camping and a single stage that avoided the time management conundrums of larger festivals. 

But the 2024 event muddied the goodwill built since 2015. Extreme heat met overcrowding in an oversold venue, while insufficient water and shade left fans dehydrated and fatigued. Artists stopped their sets mid-performance to wait for EMTs to find fans who’d fainted in the crowd. Thousand-deep lines caused some festival-goers to miss their favorite acts or wait hours for shuttles home.

The social media backlash was swift and brutal, with fans saying the event had become “corporate,” and that organizers had prioritized profit over people.

Staff carry water at a hot Hinterland 2024. — Brittany Brooke Crow/Little Village

“There was a corporate feel last year. It felt different,” said Renae Wickham, a Hinterland veteran from Dubuque who attended this year’s festival. “All of the local touches were gone. It was not Iowa Nice. It had a bad feeling.”

The criticism stung because it struck at the heart of what made Hinterland special: its intimate, low-pressure atmosphere that set it apart from massive festivals like Lollapalooza in Chicago or Summerfest in Milwaukee. Iowans took it personally when visitors to the state left with a bad taste in their mouths, Summers said. 

$2 million in improvements

Rather than make incremental adjustments, organizers sped up a planned next phase that would overhaul the festival layout. They invested more than $2 million in improvements, hired a customer insight team for in-depth research, and physically relocated the entire festival grounds about a quarter mile east to create significantly more space and better accessibility. 

The festival expanded from one main entrance to three. Camping and walking areas were separated from vehicle traffic. Water stations multiplied across the grounds. Natural and built shade structures dotted the landscape. The main stage itself shifted to a larger space that previously served as campground (moving from Madison County to Warren County in the process), providing more room for fans to spread out, and for the festival to grow in the future. 

Perhaps most telling was the shift in attendance demographics. While 2024 drew 70 percent of its crowd from out of state, this year’s festival achieved a 50-50 split between Iowa residents and visitors — suggesting a refocus on the local base. Indeed, when Lana Del Rey asked the Sunday night crowd how many people were local to the Des Moines area, the cheer seemed to fill the whole amphitheater.

Much of the feedback during the event and since has been positive. 

For attendees like Nica Dela Rosa, Tanner Lee, and Jack Lafontaine — three former Kansas State University friends who bought three-day passes with camping — the changes were apparent. “The grounds were bigger, and there were more vantage points to watch the music,” Dela Rosa said. “It was more accessible and comfortable.” She lamented that art vendors were located far from the mainstage and food vendors, saying she hopes they are more central in the future.

The trio, who described Hinterland as a “hidden gem,” appreciated how the new layout felt “more integrated” and “immersive” for campers, who were a short walk from the gates. As Lee put it, “That’s the point of a festival versus a show.”

Making fans feel special

Summers has ambitious goals that go beyond damage control. He wants Hinterland to achieve the seamless customer experience of a theme park, such as Universal Studios or Disney, which have gained acclaim for making logistics fade into the background so attendees can focus purely on enjoyment.

“I want Hinterland to be how I feel when I go to Universal Studios. I feel very special when I’m there,” he explained. 

One new touch is a “90 Degree Guarantee,” promising refunds for any day forecast exceeding 90 degrees — directly addressing the extreme heat issues that plagued 2024. ADA resources were also enhanced based on lessons learned from the previous year’s struggles. 

Claudia Perez from Omaha, who attended despite being “on the fence” due to 2024’s backlash, said the weather guarantee won her over. The experience validated her decision. She described it as “a mini-Coachella in the middle of nowhere,” where “you can enjoy music and don’t care what you dress like.”

Planning for the future

Summers said Hinterland sits in a “sweet spot” of about 25,000 attendees — large enough to book top-tier talent but small enough to maintain intimacy. Still, looking ahead, he is open to additional changes, such as multiple large stages, which would mean growing the crowd size. They have the room. 

He is also thinking about how to use the land outside of the three-day festival, such as creating trails, hosting other concerts, and perhaps building a Frisbee golf course. 

With the 10 hottest years on record all occurring in the past decade, organizers are thinking long-term about sustainability and climate resilience, including planting a diverse tree canopy.

“We want to make this site climate-proof and climate-aware, so we can be producing concerts outdoors in August in Iowa for 50 years,” Summers said.

‘The Hinterland vibes are back’

As festival-goers packed up their tents and headed home from the expanded campgrounds, the consensus seemed positive. The music was strong, the logistics mostly worked, and the community feeling that defines Hinterland was back.

Some hiccups persisted; for example, parking lots for campers closed at 7 p.m., forcing some late-comers to get a hotel or park elsewhere and Uber to the festival — a lot to ask for fans who paid $500 for a three-day pass with camping or $1,000 for a three-day VIP pass. The schedule also ran late on Sunday, with Lana Del Rey’s elaborate house set taking over an hour to assemble after Bleachers’ barn-burning, penultimate performance. (Bleachers frontman Jack Antonoff lavished praise on the festival, telling the audience, “This beats Glastonbury any day of the week. I’d rather be fucking here!”)

In an industry where festivals regularly rise and fall, and catastrophe is par for the course, Hinterland appears to be writing a different story based on accountability, investment and the power of listening to its community. 

As Summers noted, “The only reason we’re here is because of the customer. I couldn’t book these fun bands without people paying for tickets.” After a year of rebuilding, that relationship appears to be healing, one satisfied camper at a time.

The true test of Hinterland’s next phase won’t be measured in a single year but over time. And based on the reaction of fans, they appear to be on the right track. 

Wickham from Dubuque, who has attended five consecutive years, was among those who appreciated the changes. “I’m glad to see what they’ve done,” she said. “It’s better than expected. It feels more like the original Hinterland vibe. The Hinterland vibes are back.”