The thick North Carolina air buzzed with anticipation as J. Cole took the Dreamville Fest 2025 stage, bathed in the warm, nostalgic haze of a VHS lens. The crowd, an endless sea of waving hands and swaying bodies, grew quiet as the soft, reflective chords of "She's Mine" drifted into the night sky. Under flickering stage lights, Cole stood alone, clutching the mic with a solemn kind of reverence, each word pouring out like a confession written in the margins of an old notebook.
The grainy, washed-out footage captured every detail—the glint of sweat on his brow, the slow steps he took across the stage like he was searching for something invisible. His voice cracked, raw and unfiltered, as he closed out the final verse. Without pause, the beat shifted — a heartbeat thump, deeper and heavier — and "Change" began to bleed in.
Cole’s head dropped, and when he lifted it again, his eyes were fierce, lit from within. The VHS tape caught the imperfect beauty of it all: the stutter of the zoom, the shaky framing, the way the stage lights haloed around him like he was part dream, part memory. As he rapped about redemption, about pain and growth, the crowd erupted — not just singing along, but feeling every line like a prayer.
It wasn’t polished, it wasn’t staged — it was human, real, immortalized forever in the imperfect beauty of a tape that would one day wear thin from being played too many times.
The VHS tape buzzed with static as J. Cole performed "Love Yourz" under the wide Dreamville sky. Thousands of phones lit up at once, a sea of stars swaying in the dark, shaky and beautiful through the grainy lens. Cole stood still in the middle of it all, his voice steady but full of heart, rapping truths that floated into the night: "No such thing as a life that's better than yours." In the imperfect glow of old film, it felt like time itself paused — just a man, a song, and a universe of lights shining back at him.
At Dreamville Fest, J. Cole performed "Middle Child" with unstoppable energy. The crowd shook the ground as they rapped every word with him, while the VHS camera caught the raw, unfiltered power of the moment — Cole standing tall, the bridge between generations, owning the stage like it was built for him.
J. Cole performed "Can’t Get Enough" at Dreamville Fest, the crowd dancing and singing along from the first beat. Through the hazy VHS footage, Cole’s energy was contagious — flashing a grin, bouncing across the stage, feeding off the electric vibe. It was pure celebration, captured in the grainy glow of a perfect night.
As the final night of Dreamville Fest 2025 settled in, the air buzzing with energy and the sky burning deep orange, J. Cole stepped to the front of the stage, a soft crackle running through the VHS footage. He looked out over the massive crowd — a sea of faces, arms raised, lights waving — and took a deep breath.
"Listen," he said, voice calm but full of weight. "This ain’t the last Dreamville Fest. We’ll be back. But this right here... this is the last time the Dreamville name will be attached to it like this. It’s the end of an era, but not the end of the love."
The crowd stirred, some cheering, some just soaking in the meaning of it all. Cole gave a small, knowing smile before continuing.
"Every time we do this, man, it feel like a big-ass family reunion," he said, laughing lightly. "For my white people, it’s like a big cookout — y’all know what I mean. But for real, everybody here? Black, white, brown — it felt like family all day. Nothing but love, nothing but respect. And that’s what Dreamville’s always been about."
The tape captured the way the crowd roared at those words, people hugging, throwing arms around each other, tears and smiles everywhere. In the blurry, flickering footage, J. Cole looked both proud and at peace — the architect of something bigger than music, something that felt like home.
I still can't believe what happened.
At the very last Dreamville Fest, as the night started to wind down, J. Cole stepped onto the stage and performed Farewell from Friday Night Lights.
And just as he began... the rain started to fall.
At the very last Dreamville Fest, as the night started to wind down, J. Cole stepped onto the stage and performed Farewell from Friday Night Lights.
And just as he began... the rain started to fall.
It was like the universe knew what that moment meant. The rain wasn’t just water — it felt like it was washing over all of us, a final blessing, a final goodbye.
Farewell has always been one of those songs for me — one that carried me through some of my hardest days, one I never thought I'd hear live. After all the years, all the shows, all the times I hoped... he played it.
Right there, right in front of me.
Right there, right in front of me.
I could hear it in his voice too — the weight, the emotion. And as I looked around, I wasn’t alone. People in the crowd were crying. Hands were in the air. Eyes closed. Hearts wide open.
I fought back my own tears, overwhelmed by gratitude, by sadness, by everything all at once.
I fought back my own tears, overwhelmed by gratitude, by sadness, by everything all at once.
It wasn’t just a concert anymore — it was a farewell to an era, a memory that will stay with me forever.
Thank you, J. Cole. Thank you, Dreamville. Thank you for giving us a moment we'll never forget.
Thank you, J. Cole. Thank you, Dreamville. Thank you for giving us a moment we'll never forget.
Day one of Dreamville Fest was unforgettable, especially when Ab-Soul hit the stage.
It’s been a minute since we've seen him perform live, especially with everything he’s been through with his health. But when he stepped out — you could feel it immediately — he was in good spirits, smiling, soaking it all in.
It’s been a minute since we've seen him perform live, especially with everything he’s been through with his health. But when he stepped out — you could feel it immediately — he was in good spirits, smiling, soaking it all in.
He gave us It Be Like That, Bohemian Grove, and Righteous Man — and every word felt heavier, more meaningful. It wasn't just a setlist — it felt like a statement.
A reminder that even after everything, he’s still standing, still spitting, still here.
A reminder that even after everything, he’s still standing, still spitting, still here.
The crowd showed him so much love, and you could tell he felt it.
It wasn’t just another performance — it felt like a homecoming.
One of those moments you don’t forget.
It wasn’t just another performance — it felt like a homecoming.
One of those moments you don’t forget.
