Britt Lundborg reports: Mad Decent knows how to throw a fucking party. Lucking out with sweet ass weather and a surging, panting crowd, Diplo’s label buds put on a killer fest down on Saturday. Philly-natives Po Po shook out some hazy, haunting beats while Bosco Delrey threw down hip-hop-a-billy oddities. Think 50s dance hall married with electronic blips and blurps. It’s probably the kind of music the King would be making now if he weren’t six feet under. “Wild One” should be on all summer party mixes – guaranteed all the hunies will be shakin’ it. After Bosco’s set, Max Glazer took to the tables and the party switched into high gear. A jumpin’ number of special guests stomped on speakers inches from the crowd. It was hard to top Mr. Lexx whose baritone could peel the panties off even the most jaded concert-goer, especially when the jittering beats of “Hold The Line” are shaking through the crowd. Then Chelley swaggered on with flaming magenta hair and diamond sunnies and it was hard to argue with her when she sang, “1, 2, 4, 3, none of these bitches look better me.” By the time Maluca came on to close the night out with their usual high-energy antics, half the crowd had surfed the shoulders of their compatriots & we’d drilled the beer well dry.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us!Sunday night, with nowhere left to be, the entire 20,000 fans attending Pitchfork this year invaded the space in front of the main stage. There was no place to move, nowhere to go, and unless you had to pee, you probably didn’t care much about it. We were all about to see Pavement, the band that had inspired this Pitchfork nation and influenced just about every act that played the three day festival. They were back and they were bringing their legendary songs with them. Following a prolonged introduction by a former Chicago shock jock (which received nothing but boos and thrown bottles from the eager fans), Pavement took the stage. There was Stephen Malkmus, Mark Ibold, Bob Nastanovich, Scott Kannberg, and Steve West in the flesh, standing before us and strapping on their instruments. The crowd was going nuts, photographers were elbowing for an angle, even the other artists that had played the fest were rushing to see this band. “This is called ‘Cut Your Hair’”, Malkmus said and we were off and running on the band’s most successful song, the one with the music video that actually got played on MTV. From the front row to the very back of the field people were singing along and loving every moment of it. Every song was introduced by either Malkmus or Scott Kannberg and every song received a cheer so thunderous it almost blocked out the opening notes of the songs. Pavement was rolling along, and to the surprise of anyone who knows anything about the band, it appeared they were actually enjoying it. Even Stephen Malkmus cracked a couple of smiles during the band’s hour and a half set. Mark Ibold bounced across the stage and Bob Nastanovich played his weird little instruments, introducing us to his mini vuvuzela and the rest one at a time. Song wise the set had a bit of everything. The band spread the love through all of their records, cranking out at least a tune or two off each. Every song was a highlight to someone in the crowd and every song came off sounding as fresh and as exciting as when they were released up to 20 years ago. More than a year ago, I purchased tickets to the first Pavement reunion show that was announced, more than a year away at Central Park. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait the full year to see Pavement, and now I truly know how much I have to look forward to when I see them again in September! SPTR: 9.9.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! Every year the Pitchfork Music Fest tries hard to incorporate hip-hop into its lineup, and this year was no different. Acts like El-P, Raekwon and Major Lazer all drew huge crowds and got people dancing throughout the weekend, but there was no doubt that everyone was waiting for just one hip hop artist – Big Boi. Half of the famed Outkast, Big Boi has won over the hipster audience with his new solo debut complete with some of the best singles of the year. So it was only fitting that he’d be the final hip hopper to take the stage and the second to last band to play the fest. Right from the start you could see people were ready for this set. As Big Boi took the stage people went nuts and would not stop going nuts throughout his hour long set. Everyone expected to hear the tunes off the new record, Sir Lucious Left Foot, what we did not expect was Big Boi to pull out Outkast classics during his set. Yet alongside songs like “Shutterbug” and “Shine Blockas” were the Big Boi verses from songs like “Ms. Jackson”, “B.O.B.”, and “So Fresh, So Clean”. Those tunes got everyone dancing, but really people were dancing regardless. Big Boi was magnetic on stage, no one could look away, even the folks camped out waiting for Pavement were dancing or bopping their heads along to every song. It was, save for LCD’s performance, the set of the fest – a mind blowing, exciting, frenzy of songs we could sing-a-long with & dance along to as well. SPTR: 9.0.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! Lovely. It really is the only way to describe St. Vincent. She looks lovely, she sounds lovely and she has lovely musicians making music with her. Then she steps on a pedal and the distortion comes running in and something about the disparity between her beautiful voice and the messy guitar sound makes the music even more lovely. Wearing an orange dress and looking like no heat would be too hot for her crazy black hair, St. Vincent dominated her set yesterday afternoon, shredding through her latest release Actor and making the indie boys and girls salivate alike. Though she stayed away from her debut album there was no shortage of “Marry Me” cries coming from the crowd and almost every one of them sounded completely earnest. Gorgeous as she was standing on the Connector stage, the music is her real allure. Like a siren summoning us to her she drew people throughout her set, filling the space up to capacity and earning every new ear that was piqued to her sound. It was a beautiful set but anyone who had seen her knew that would be the case before it ever started. The surprise any time you see her is how much she shreds, and it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it it still surprises. How does someone so lovely and delicate shred so hard? I don’t have an answer for you but it amazes me every time I witness it. St. Vincent is a bona fide star and on Sunday she truly showed every side of it. The voice, the musicianship, every aspect of her performance stands out from the crowd and it was even more impressive amid all the buzz bands and critical darlings that filled the weekend. All we can say at this point is, wow she sure is lovely. SPTR: 9.0.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! For most of Sunday, the B stage was the place to be. Not only was it the shadiest of the three stages, it also had lush lawns for sitting and some of the best up-and-coming buzz bands around. Balance Stage also had the least amount of room to handle the crowds that came to see these buzz bands making the trek into and out of the area a bit daunting for anyone trying to catch acts on the other two stages. That forced my hand, making me miss bands like Local Natives, Here We Go Magic, and the stage’s headliner – Sleigh Bells. Luckily I did manage to catch my boys, Surfer Blood. Okay, they’re not just my boys but after playing my CMJ show last October I like to think of them that way. Anyway, Surfer Blood has really perfected their surf rocking sound in all the time they’ve spent on tour lately. They have taken what was a messy but fun sound and cleaned it up a bit, keeping the rocking elements but getting rid of any sloppiness that might have plagued them early on. Still sticking to the tunes from their breakout record Astro Coast and those tunes are still enough to excite the crowd. It’s pretty amazing considering how far Surfer Blood has come in just a couple of months. From a CMJ set at the tiny Cake Shop to a slot at a massive festival, and considering all the growth in their performance there’s no telling where these guys will go. For Surfer Blood the sky is the limit, no we just have to see if they can follow-up their debut with something as good or better. Slutty Pop Tarts Rating: 8.6.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! To see Lightning Bolt playing in the daytime, on a stage, at a music festival is a bit of a mind fuck. For most of their career, the band has spent their live shows in the dark, performing in small-ish clubs, from the floor rather than the stage. Their fans are known to go nuts moshing and crowd surfing and on Sunday at Pitchfork there was little of that, and still watching the horrified Beach House fans fleeing the main area as soon as they started ripping into their set, put a smile on my face and on many others who were genuinely enjoying the psychotic sounds pounding through the PA. Despite the oppressive heat, Chippendale still donned his trademark mask to hammer home the crazy side of their music. Right from the get go he seemed like a man possessed pounding out beat after beat in times that shatter the mind. The other Brian, Brian Gibson, was steady as ever dripping out whacked bass lines run through more distortion than any other band could muster up. It’s a pair made in noise rock heaven, two dudes so dedicated to making a racket that it seems they started the band just to annoy the shit out of their neighbors. Good as the set was, it was still weird to see them performing the way they did. Being on stage was mind boggling but necessary, performing in the day was weird and getting stuck between Beach House and St. Vincent was truly out of left field. Maybe they would’ve been better off on the smaller stage but then they wouldn’t have had so many folks watching the insanity. SPTR: 8.8.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! It took me a long time to get into Beach House. While my blogging brethren were fawning over them all the way back 2006, we weren’t sold on the Baltimore based trio. The records just seemed boring and the live show followed suit, but the release of the 2010 standout Teen Dream changed everything for me. Somehow that record clicked and I was eager to see the band hit the stage at Pitchfork on Sunday afternoon. As the band hit the stage, they seemed a little cranky, maybe the heat was getting to them or maybe someone knocked over their beer backstage, whatever the case sitting in the photo pit I was a bit worried that we were going to get another pretty sounding but lackluster performance. Thankfully the band warmed up quickly, helped out by the thousands of fans pouring their energy into the band’s music. For most of their set, Beach House stuck to the new stuff, cranking out lovely tunes like “Zebra” and “10 Mile Stereo”. The setlist played right in line with my new found love of the band and the warm tunes were perfect for the afternoon sun. It was a solid set of tunes from a band that has finally cracked my soul with it making it one of the more impressive sets of the day. SPTR: 8.5.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! Let’s just skip right on past the lackluster Panda Bear performance and put the focus where the focus is due – on LCD Soundsystem – who turned Union Park into a massive dance party last night, absolutely tearing the roof off of a roofless, outdoor venue. As day turned into night, and the mid-90s temperatures that had dominated the day cooled to high-80s temps, people were at a fever pitch for Saturday’s headline act. For hours, people camped out at the main stage, trying to inch their way closer to the creator of two of the best albums in the last five years. James Murphy and company would prove worthy of the devotion that left people wilting in the the heat, but still ready to dance like maniacs once the strains of “Pow Pow”, “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House” and “Dance Yrself Clean” came pouring out of the speakers. As the music blared, people who had spent the day sweating danced to a frenzy, sweating all over again and not giving a damn the slightest. It was a release unlike anything else we saw at the festival and LCD Soundsystem truly earned their headlining status throughout their hour long set. For the encore the band came out and tore the place down with an passionate rendition of “New York I Love You”. It didn’t matter that it was being played with the famed Willis Tower hanging in the background, because let’s face it – the same sentiments Murphy bestows on New York could be translated to Chicago effortlessly. LCD Soundsystem simply out performed everyone else that has taken the stage thus far at Pitchfork. As the headliner it’s what they were supposed to do, but following the lackluster Modest Mouse set it wouldn’t have been unexpected for LCD to simply sink under the pressure of wrapping the night. They didn’t and they were carried into the night in the memories of the thousands of people who waited patiently for them and then danced like they didn’t have a care in the world as the band played. Now if Pavement can bring some of that to Sunday’s festival closing set it will have been a very good weekend of music. Slutty Pop Tarts Rating: 9.2.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! On record, Titus Andronicus is barely contained. Their music is unleashed upon your ears with the energy, power and passion all invading your spirit. Live, it’s taken to a new level as Pat Stickles and company simply plow you with the veracity they are performing with. It’s not a new level of rock but with most acts taking things down a notch the nod to great performers like Bruce or Iggy is a breath of fresh air. Saturday afternoon, Titus once again dominated the stage at Pitchfork. Two years removed from their first stop at the festival, they hit the stage running and would not stop for their hour long set. The band was so amped and ready to go they stood at the lip of the stage waiting for Delorean to wrap up their set so they could get on with the show. And once they did, we were all pummeled by the avalanche of power chords that followed. Mixing well between The Airing Of Grievances and The Monitor, Titus Andronicus had the kids eating out of their hands. Pat Stickles flayed about, slamming the strings on his guitar while spewing his wordy anthems complete with spit and venom. It was the kind of set this Pitchfork Fest was built on and one that they had sort of gotten away from this year, opting for the chiller more relaxed acts up to this point. Hopefully the Titus set will remind folks what it’s like to truly rock for the future. SPTR: 9.1.
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Pat Duffy, formerly of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (RIP), checks in for us! “We don’t have much to say,” Spencer Krug shouted to the crowd, “so we’re just gonna pack this hour that Pitchfork gave us with as many songs as we can!” No banter, no gaps, just music, it’s as good a plan as any band could have and the fans were genuinely enthusiastic about the declaration. For the next hour, Wolf Parade pounded out tune after tune, scouring their three album catalog and hitting every note with precision. All of them were on the same page, like a finely tuned machine performing on all cylinders. They played tunes from their most recent album, they cranked out favorites from At Mount Zoomer and Apologies To The Queen Mary, and they did it all without any hitch. As good as the music was and as tight as the set was, it lacked the passion the last three acts had brought on stage with them. Raekwon had endeared himself to the audience, Titus Andronicus brought vitriol and venom to the stage, and Jon Spencer played rock star, while Spencer, Dan, Arien and Dante hid behind their instruments and played. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not engaging or captivating in any way. So unless you were a diehard fan of the band you probably felt more could have been done to win you over. Or maybe you were satisfied with the flaccid delivery of some solid tunes. SPTR: 7.6.
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