Bruce Springsteen headlined a sold-out protest festival near Washington one month before the midterms, as former special counsel Jack Smith appeared in a “No Kings” shirt.
The inaugural “Power to the People” gathering filled Columbia, Maryland’s Merriweather Post Pavilion on Saturday with a long list of big-name acts, political speeches from the stage, and a clear get-out-the-vote push. Associated Press reporting described a one-day, two-stage event organized by Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello in the shadow of the capital.
A portion of ticket proceeds was earmarked for VoteRiders and HeadCount. Nonprofits including the ACLU, Farm Aid, the National Domestic Workers Alliance, and Oxfam set up in a “Freedom Village” across the grounds. Many performers used their sets to denounce recent actions by the U.S. government and to urge the crowd to turn out at the polls.
The festival had been revealed in May, around the same time several musical guests pulled out of America’s 250th anniversary “Great American State Fair” over that event’s ties to President Donald Trump. Organizers cast “Power to the People” as a celebration of “peace, justice, solidarity, music and community action.”
Former Justice Department special counsel Jack Smith was photographed in the crowd wearing a black Springsteen T-shirt that read “No Kings.” Fellow concertgoers shared the images widely online. Just the News reported it was Smith’s first public sighting since a Senate Judiciary Committee hearing days earlier, where he firmly defended the two prosecutions he brought against Trump over efforts to undo the presidential election and the retention of classified records at Mar-a-Lago.
The shirt came from Springsteen’s Land of Hope and Dreams tour. After Just the News publicized the appearance, Trump shared the story on Truth Social and added his own line: “Deranged Jack Smith is a Crooked Prosecutor! President DJT.”
Smith did not address the crowd. His presence alone put a federal prosecutor who spent years chasing the sitting president in the middle of a partisan music rally one month before the midterms.
Springsteen closed the night as headliner. He opened with “Streets of Minneapolis,” which the coverage framed as a response to the killings of Renée Good and Alex Pretti by federal immigration agents. He told the crowd the power and solidarity of people in Minneapolis and Minnesota were “an inspiration to the entire country.”
“Their strength and their commitment told us that this is still America, and this will not stand. They gave us hope. They showed us courage,” Springsteen said. He later cheered, “Let them hear you in Washington.”
Breitbart coverage highlighted the same set and the festival’s anti-Trump, get-out-the-vote framing. Springsteen duetted with folk icon Joan Baez on Bob Dylan’s “Chimes of Freedom.” Baez also joined Nathaniel Rateliff and Dave Matthews on “Deportees” and “(Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody) Turn Me Around.” Baez called the festival a “magnificent antidote.”
Springsteen, Morello, Matthews, and Rateliff tore through Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son.” The night ended with the full bill singing Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land,” including the original verses, and John Lennon’s “Power to the People.”
Morello’s early-evening set turned into a revolving door of guests. System of a Down’s Serj Tankian joined him for Audioslave’s “Like a Stone,” a tribute to the late Chris Cornell. Chuck D, Run-DMC, and Flavor Flav followed for covers. Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl and Morello tackled Kiss’s “Rock and Roll All Nite.”
Stephen Stills performed Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth.” Shortly after 3 p.m., comedian Jack Black appeared as “Jack Sabbath,” backed by a band of children that included sons of Morello and Anthrax’s Scott Ian. Black Sabbath bassist Geezer Butler joined for “War Pigs” in a segment billed as a tribute to the late Ozzy Osbourne.
Rap-rock act Grandson worked the refrain “My president’s a felon” and covered Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War.” The act also brought out two actors portraying Jeffrey Epstein and Trump connected by a leash; the livestream cut out during that bit.
Between songs, the politics stayed front and center. Killer Mike told the crowd to “Vote locally in thirty days” and to “hold the [expletive] you vote for accountable, on school boards, county commissions... and when you do, don’t have an ounce of fear or trepidation because this republic is ran by you.”
Taylor Momsen struck a softer note with the AP. “I think the timing is a reminder that showing up matters. I’m not here to tell anyone what to think or how to vote,” she said. “I hope people leave feeling connected, inspired to care about the people around them, and reminded that we all have a part to play in our communities. If the festival can create that feeling, I think that’s a win.”
Young fan Evangeline Topete wore a shirt reading “Destroy American Fascism” and told reporters the festival meant peace, love, and justice could become “verbs” when people “rock out in the name of anti-fascist, radical equality.” She added, “Rock ‘n’ roll can save us. And so can giving the power where it belongs: to the people!”
Morello’s own framing, carried in the Just the News account, cast the day as proof of “the power everyday human beings have when they come together, through music, art, community and action, to shape our country and our planet on, and beyond, Election Day.” He also told the crowd he hoped they had been “energized, radicalized, revolutionized, democratized and wound the f, k up.”
Sold-out gates, legacy rock stars, rap heavyweights, and a Freedom Village stacked with progressive nonprofits all pointed the same direction: pressure voters, attack the administration’s immigration enforcement, and treat the stage as a political platform. The timing was no accident. The festival sat one month before the midterms and was built, from the May announcement forward, as a counterweight to any Trump-linked national celebration.
Smith’s decision to attend in a “No Kings” shirt, days after defending his Trump prosecutions on Capitol Hill, handed the president a ready-made image and a Truth Social post. The prosecutor who once wielded federal power against Trump now stood in a partisan festival crowd while headliners sang about felons and deportees and demanded Washington hear them.
Taxpayers who watched years of special-counsel drama did not need a lyric sheet to read the room. When the same legal figure who chased a president shows up at a get-out-the-vote protest bash, the line between law and political theater gets harder to defend.
Rock stars can sing whatever they want. Voters still get the last word, and they can tell the difference between a concert and a campaign.
