Welcome to August, everyone. We're in the first week of this disgustingly hot month, which means that once again, I have just returned from the mind (and body) numbing experience called Lollapalooza. Mind numbing in that I experienced euphoria at Girl Talk, body numbing in that I experienced, well, the thousands of people at Girl Talk. More on that later.
I don’t dare "review" the fest in the traditional sense- I tried that with my stint at the Athens Messenger, and I always felt as if I was pissing off those who undoubtedly knew more than I. Instead, I’ll just let the opinions flow…
Friday, day one of Lolla, had big shoes to fill. My mind was literally blown on the first day of last year’s fest, with Daft Punk pulsating into my front-row-center being for what felt like hours. I could tell almost immediately that this year would be different, though; compared to last year, where you could find that front row spot a measly hour before a show, this year’s Lolla was already jam packed with Chicago’s hippest by 11 am. I wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to buy a beer let alone get near the stage, but hey, ya win some ya lose some I always say.
So, on to the tunes. Here’s a brief rundown of the shows I checked out:
The Black Kids: enjoyable. All I could really think about was how fugging hot it was, and how the next show had better rock my face off to justify all the sweating. Maybe if I had been more scene I would have really loved it. Alas…
Thank God for the Go! Team. As my boyfriend said, they were straight hype. Ninja could totally take M.I.A. in an MC-ing, kickass outfit-wearing dance contest. I love you, M, I do. But this show was off the hook they way my fave Sri Lankan’s was last year, and then some.
I could hear Duffy from the Bud Light stage as I waited for the Black Keys to go on, and she sounded pretty well. I just have a hard time picturing a bluesy, ‘I get knocked down but I get up again’ sort of persona coming from someone who looks like they’d be besties with Jessica Simpson. Maybe a mix between Natasha Bedingfield and Wino, Duffy’s definitely got the pipes but I’m just not convinced yet. A boozed up Wino is simply way more fun. The Keys, though, rocked out to the fullest, and I’m glad I was able to see them from the stage this year as opposed to a field away like last. And it’s a good thing, too. Apparently their set was incredibly hard to hear anywhere away from the front of the crowd. As for the set, I can’t complain-“10 am Automatic” is so clutch live.
And then there was Cat Power. Now I’m not sure that it gets much better than “He War” when it comes to the land of lady rockers. And The Greatest is one of the best albums I’ve ever heard, hands down. But I’ll put it this way: my boyfriend (as well as many of the other males I associate with), would probably give his right arm to be near Chan Marshall. And it was his idea to leave less than 5 songs in. Just saying.
My posse and I (I’ll call them that because we seem to be dropping the clichés lately), skipped out on the Raconteurs to check out Bloc Party before Radiohead came on. BP was fun, and that’s really all that needs to be said. The not so hip side of me still loves “Banquet” every time it’s played, and Kele Okereke is one of those dudes that’s genuinely a pleasure to watch. And their sound was pretty spot on live.
I may or may not have passed out during the wait for Radiohead. Being 5’2 in a crowd full of what appear to be giant fraternity bras does not necessarily make for ideal breathing conditions, but being lightheaded was totally worth it to see Thom Yorke’s monkey dance. There’s just something so appealing about they way he flails about, and the ape movements were in full force during “Idioteque,” perhaps the best way they could have ended the set (and the only part that I could actually see). This was my first Radiohead experience, and though I can’t claim to be a SuperFan, I am certainly a big one, and I was incredibly satisfied with the set. I was so happy that they played “Paranoid Android” and “House of Cards” that it basically made my night, and I stumbled home in a sore, sweaty, filthy state of bliss.
On another note, and before I get into the madness that was Sat/Sun, let’s talk about the clothes worn at Lolla. I get it kids, I really do. You have to be hip. You have to be so scene that your skin literally turns day-glo like the ironic sunglasses you’re sporting. But in all seriousness, how in the name of all that is (or isn’t) holy, is it PHYSICALLY possible to don skin tight black pants in 90 degree heat. I wore a shirt as a dress and still wanted to peal off a layer of skin to see if that’d be any cooler. I saw so many Sweeny Todd inspired leather boots and pants that I began to wonder if hipsters are actually a different breed of man. Or maybe I’m just a huge wimp. Or maybe, unlike the phrase young girls are inundated from the time we can dress ourselves, I appreciate comfort over style? In any case, Friday rocked.
Much more- and photos- to come.
