 "Photo: Tidd, Kyle")
 "Photo: Tidd, Kyle")
 "Photo: Tidd, Kyle")
My expectations for this year's Pitchfork Music Festival were not incredibly high. Though the lineup was fairly solid, it seemed uninspired - an expected blend of the latest hype bands and festival stalwarts. Still, I couldn't miss an opportunity to mingle with the great hipster masses and sip on tasty Goose Island beer.
By the time I bustled through the unrelenting throng of ticket scalpers on Friday, post-punk icons Mission of Burma were already tearing their way through Vs. Next up was Sebadoh performing Bubble and Scrape. Onstage, frontman Lou Barlow said he didn't know why his group was performing after Mission of Burma. His self-deprecation was complemented by the band's plodding, lackluster performance. I was certainly feeling restless by the time the Bomb Squad inadvertently began warming up the crowd before the end of Sebadoh's set.
Despite a Flava-less "Bring the Noise" plagued with mic problems, Public Enemy delivered. Though Flav brings new irony to "She Watch Channel Zero" - the crowd booed after he plugged his reality show - he's still an incredible hypeman and Chuck D.'s flow is as bombastic as ever. They blew threw It Takes a Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back quickly and ended the night with a medley of hits. The crowd waved their hands while I happily embraced my status as a drunken white boy shouting along to "Fight the Power."
Due to an unfortunate hassle with my baggage, I arrived an hour late on Saturday and missed both Titus Andronicus and Jay Reatard. The crowd was as large as it's ever been and, as the day progressed, it became increasingly difficult to navigate through the sea of lawn chairs, blankets and shirtless bros.
Despite the ever-growing glut of hot, sweaty humanity, I managed to see a fragment of nearly every act. Caribou soothed with a laid-back set while Icy Demons surprised me with their progged-out bouncy styling. Fleet Foxes and The Ruby Suns seemed to be cut from the same cloth of dull, retrograde, classic rock-obsessed indie music. I was excited for Dizzee Rascal and he met my expectations, pleasing the rabble with energy and loud bass. Some indie performers could take a cue from the hip-hop dudes. The crowd wants to be entertained, not bored to death.
Vampire Weekend were fairly engaging, though probably not deserving of all the attention. Both !!! and The Hold Steady are dependable workhorses on the festival circuit. I knew they'd put on an enjoyable show, though, perhaps because I had seen them both last year, their shticks were kind of tiresome. Jarvis Cocker provided what had been lacking all day: the presence of a bona fide star. I'm not even the biggest fan of his solo work, but the former Pulp frontman was so effortlessly charismatic and magnetic onstage, it was impossible for me to not chant along during "Cunts Are Still Ruling the World."
Star-in-chrysalis Bradford Cox toyed around with loops as Atlas Sound while No Age decimated the crowd with punkish fury. I had heard horror stories about Animal Collective's live show, but they destroyed any preconceived trepidation with a near transcendent set complete with a simple yet entrancing light show. The night ended with a bang as some unruly member of the audience set off bottle rockets during "Fireworks."
Sunday was a more laid back affair; I was exhausted and I didn't check out every band because I had managed to convince my girlfriend to join me. Inevitably, I spent a lot of time sitting in the shade. We arrived early to Mahjongg, who were annoyingly late setting up and managed to kill any anticipation built up for them. Times New Viking were exuberant, but their show is more appropriate for a small club. High Places inspired a discussion about how several of the acts simply don't know how to please a crowd. HEALTH earned the tag of "Biggest Disappointment." I was hoping for danciness, not abrasive noise.
With their potbellies and captivating stage personae, Les Savy Fav's Tim Harrington and King Khan might be spiritual brothers. Their respective groups were certainly two of the highlights of the day. Though Ghost and Rae were late, they certainly pleased the crowd with classic Wu-Tang tracks. M. Ward was boring and Spiritualized were headache-inducing. Bon Iver put me into a coma while strains of Dinosaur Jr. could be heard across the breeze. I anticipated Cut Copy and was disappointed when they didn't show on time. Though Bradford, Khan and Reatard tried to hold the audience's interest in a jam session, I ended up splitting before Cut Copy came on.
Overall, it was neither the best music festival I've been to nor the worst. I was underwhelmed by many of the gentler acts and the more abrasive ones had me running. Maybe I'm getting too old for this sort of thing.
perojoke86@yahoo.com
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