Via Chicago: The Lollapalooza Chronicles (Volume III)
Festival Day The Second (or, We Came Here to Rock the Microphone)
With our automotive woes finale behind us, we made our way back into the city via train as planned for the second, and arguably most packed, day of festival going. A bit of a late start resulted in us missing the upstart Cold War Kids, but it was nothing to be broken up over. What came next, on the other hand was for me a gut-wrenching choice between indie funk cheerleading squad Go! Team or undeniably attractive Canadian folk singer Feist, despite the fact that Kevin and Steve were already dead set on the former.
A rapping british chick in a cheerleading outfit, an Asian girl on guitar, AND a badass harmonica guy? Sorry Leslie Feist, but you lose.
I went with the crowd to Go! Team and was not disappointed-if Stars taught me anything the day before, it’s that festival acts are meant to all-out rock, and these folks fit the bill. Sure, a lot of the instrumentals were sampled, but the live stuff was top-notch, and the energy of lead singer/rapper chick Ninja was incredibly infectious. We sang, we danced, we bounced around with glee… it was a workout, and hands down one of the most fun acts of the weekend.
For a cooldown, we chilled on the lawn for Coheed and Cambria, which was another Steve and Kevin pick. I’ve never been a huge fan, but I couldn’t deny that these guys put forth one hell of an amazing effort, and that the lead singer was terrific despite apparently having no face.
From here, we had a lunch break before returning to the same stage for one of the biggest acts of the weekend, the oft-imitated Gnarls Barkley. Looking out at the crowd, I was amazed that so many people were so pumped for an act that six months ago didn’t even exist as an entity. Such is the music business, I suppose. Anyhow, true to form the band came out entirely in tennis outfits to the tune of “We Are The Champions” before launching into what may well be my favorite track, “Go Go Gadget Gospel” (frontman Cee-Lo introduced them as Love-40). They worked their way through a decent set before the inevitable rendition of “Crazy,” slowed down slightly with a gorgeous string intro (I’m still debating, however, whether I liked Jack White’s version better), after which we split for the other end of the park to get decent spots for…
This doesn't even begin to express the amazingness that was this show, but it's the best I can do.
The Flaming Lips, easily one of the biggest attractions for all of us. The place was packed with people left from the Sonic Youth show beforehand, but we got a decent way into the masses as we watched the spectacle get set up. Once the show started, it was a massive blur of aliens, Santas, confetti, gigantic balloons, gigantic balloons with Wayne Coyne inside of them, megaphones with smoke coming out of them, and the most triumphant and joyous music you could ever imagine being proclaimed above it all. We had arrived in indie rock heaven. As Steve and Kevin crowd surfed away, I jumped up and down screaming along at the top of my lungs to song after song, and by the time the incredibly moving “Do You Realize?” hit, it felt like some sort of religious conversion-consider me a member of the Church of Wayne. As the set closed and the band left the stage, the soft melody and distinctive Louis Armstrong vocals of “What a Wonderful World” filled the speakers, and I couldn’t have agreed more.
After finding Kevin and being convinced that Steve had exploded into a cloud of pure happiness during the Lips set, we proceeded to catch what was left of The New Pornographers’ set, which turned out to be most of it. Maybe it was the rush of the previous act, but these guys were so much more amazing than I could have ever imagined them to be-if I was a fan before, now I’m a devotee. Despite being short Neko Case and Dan Bejar, AC Newman and company blew through song after song with tons of energy and enthusiasm. During the last two songs, the excellent “My Slow Descent into Alcoholism” and “Sing Me Spanish Techno”, Kevin and I joined a stream of people jumping and dancing their way through the crowd, taking high fives from everyone in their path… it was a blast, and we made it to the front just in time to belt out the final refrain of “listening too long, to one song…” one last time.
After finding the apparently non-combustible Steve, we made our way to the closer of the evening, hometown hero Kanye West-yes, three suburban white kids at a Kanye show. Actually, most of the audience was suburban white kids, which may be why nobody realized when he started playing Ray Charles’ “I’ve Got a Woman” that it contained the now ubiquitous sample of “She gives me monnnney…” from “Gold Digger”. The set was plagued by sound problems, which had Kanye calling for regime change amongst his road crew, but he still performed to his best, and was backed by a sweet orchestra and vocal section, which took center stage for a brief time to cover-you guessed it-“Crazy”.
I walked out of the festival that day feeling more tired, sweaty, and worn out than I have since my days of canvassing. However, I think I found a full day of rocking out to some of the most amazingly energetic acts ever to be preferable to hitting people up for money.
One more day left… stay tuned :)