Whether you’re a little bit Iggy or a little bit Moby; whether you breathlessly await each L’il Wayne mixtape or whether pop music ceased to interest you the year the Beatles stopped touring and Dylan went electric (in which case, congratulations on figuring out this old Internet), there was something to your taste at the third edition of the Virgin Mobile Festival this weekend. Not just something, actually: A lot.

With a big assist from a newly cooperative Mother Nature (who was kind of a bitch last year, especially on Saturday), V-Fest V. 3 was again notable for its creature comforts, with concessions no more outrageously priced than at other concerts or sporting events, and of better variety and quality. I stood in exactly one line for longer than five minutes all day, and that was on Sunday, at 6 p.m. — dinnertime.