Dispatches Latter-Day Grunge

By CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY, in Ogden, Utah

The sky is bright and without clouds, the mountains flecked with snow, and mist hangs over the lifeless Great Salt Lake. In this old railroad town near Salt Lake City, the land of Latter-Day Saints has provided a curious backdrop for a latter-day carnival. The Lollapalooza tour -- a festival of determinedly edgy alternative music featuring ethnic food, political forums and 12 bands, including rappers Arrested Development and female grunge rockers Babes in Toyland -- has pulled into clean-living Utah.

Lollapalooza began three years ago as the inspiration of singer Perry Farrell of the now defunct group Jane's Addiction; this year the tour visits more than 20 cities. Today Rage Against the Machine, a thrash metal band, performs first. Many of the 25,000 concertgoers surge to the front, churning up a cloud of dust that will hang in front of the stage all day like a dirty shower curtain. The lead singer is wailing "F you, I won't do what you tell me," again and again and later attacks the price of Lollapalooza souvenirs. "We like this band because they're pissed off," says 18-year-old Jeremy Jones, a Mormon in a T shirt decorated with multicolored marijuana leaves.

Other kids also affect somewhat un-Utah fashions: shaved heads with ponytails on top, T shirts that read YOU SUCK, nose rings and lip rings. University of Utah freshman Matt Irvine says many dress alternatively but have firm morals -- a buddy of his at the concert leaves for his two-year Mormon mission in a week. Lis Calder, 22, says the Utah alternative-music scene is a reaction to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints: "I was raised in a strict Mormon family. My aunt thinks there's an evil spirit surrounding rock music and if I listen to it I'll never find a husband."

A few hundred yards from the stage, in an area known as the Village, a man named Ellisdee Rick is selling an "LSD Flight Simulator," a kaleidoscope- like device that straps on over the eyes: "It's the ultimate binocular looking into the neuroverse. It will probably replace the frisbee, and has already replaced Rubik's Cube." In the speaker's tent, a more serious exploration of the mind is under way as teenage audience members step onto a central stage and debate. "Utah is a hypocritical state." "You got the choice before you get pregnant." "If it's wrong, it's between me and God." The ringmaster-moderator is 23-year-old Mud Baron. He claims police are secretly taping the debate from a nearby building because they fear concerts attract a bad element: "But I can't get one of them to come down here and tell kids to stay off drugs."

Days after the festival, Lieutenant Mike Wells of the Weber County sheriff's department confirms the video surveillance, saying it was "just for our own benefit." He adds that on-scene deputies declined to lecture because of the possibly hostile crowd: "It could develop into a dangerous situation." So for an afternoon in Utah, with its lifeless lake and unbending mores, the kids performed their rites, and the law just watched.