Pitchfork

Uh, yeah. So I went to the Pitchfork Music Festival. Here is the play-by-play. Be prepared, this is going to be a lengthy entry.

Saturday

After finally being tipped off to the South Bend Bus System, I woke up bright and early and made my way to the train station. I arrived in Hyde Park around 11:00 and headed to Katie's to pick up my tickets. I also picked up a delightful sandwich and ate it at her place. Then I caught the bus to the green line and headed to the festival.

I arrived somewhere around 1:00 and wandered around for a while. Union Park is a pretty nice venue: not too big, not too small. There were two stages in the main grassy area, a third stage for jazz, hip-hop, and electronic music, a massive record sale, a craft show, and a poster sale. It was pretty amazing.

I did some exploring and found myself catching the end of 8 Bold Souls. Wow, these guys are incredible. I'm pretty sure they're from Chicago, too. I decided to stay to see some of Flosstradamus, a "DJ super group." I didn't really understand why they were so acclaimed. I left after a few minutes and then I read the blurb about them in the readers guide. Apparently they do amazing mash-ups together. I wish I had known that beforehand.

I made my way to one the main stages to hear Band of Horses. I hadn't heard them before, but someone told me they liked them when they saw them with Iron & Wine. I greatly enjoyed them. Their music made me happy. After them, it was time for The Mountain Goats, who I have recently started getting into. I decided to just watch them from afar because I wanted to be hard core and get right at the front for my beloved Destroyer.


And I did. I was right at the stage and witnessed every glorious moment up close and personal. Dan Bejar is quite a character. He introduced one song with: "This song is about...eh..." (turns around and starts song). After another song he said, "One quarter of that song is a protest song." He played a couple of my favorite tracks, including "Rubies," "Painter in Your Pocket," "European Oils," and "Looter's Follies." He also played one of Stevie's favorite songs, called "Modern Painters."

I caught the first bit of Art Brut, then left, thinking that I wouldn't enjoy them since I didn't care too much for what I'd heard before then. I headed over to the tent to see a bit of Spank Rock, a pretty sweet hip-hop group. Then I went to get some food while Art Brut continued to play. I never would have guessed it: they put on a great show. Their single Good Weekend was a ton of fun (the link is the video of the performance). It included an extraordinarily British section which consisted of calling various bands "top of the pops," which was a lot of fun.


After I finished eating, I headed back to the tent to watch Matmos, the incredible experimental electronica duo from San Francisco that performed with Björk on the beautiful Live at the Royal Opera House DVD. They rocked my world. I couldn't believe it. It was an incredible experience that I'll never forget. Sunscreen and sweat in my eyes; heavy breathing; throbbing bass tempered by sounds of various random objects; warm, lush synths overlayed with affected speech; tasteful guitar and horn riffs; the heat of being squeezed amidst fifty people at the front of the stage; turning down pot but getting high off the experience anyway. You can see their opening track here. I'm warning you, though, it's not for the faint of heart.

After that amazing experience, I saw the last bit of The Walkmen, then went over to see The Futureheads. I'm a fan of their single "Skip to the End," and that was fun in concert, but the rest of their set was pretty homogeneous and uninteresting.

Finally, I wandered back to the tent to see a few minutes of A-Trak, a pretty spiffy DJ. I had to leave soon, though, to begin the journey to the Eastman's house. This meant that I missed Silver Jews, which didn't bother me.

Jenn's Dad picked me up and took me to their house. After some Hot Pockets and a shower, I crashed on some comforters in their basement. I was exhausted.

Sunday

While the Eastman's were at church, I woke up and made some breakfast (i.e. a breakfast burrito). I also packed myself a lunch, which proved to be quite handy.

I got out to the concert around 12:30. I decided to forego seeing Tapes 'n Tapes (sorry, JT) in favor of Jeff Parker and the Nels Cline Quartet. Yes, Nels Cline - guitarist of Wilco. It was an amazing set. They played jazz with some very interesting additional guitar textures. Post-jazz, anyone? Nels Cline is a phenomenal guitarist.


I saw a little bit of Danielson and then Jens Lekman, but neither of them inspired me too much. I headed back to the tent (noticing a theme?) for Bonde Do Role. It was here that I met my beloved dancing indie kids. They were seriously having the time of their lives dancing it up. I started secretly dancing behind them, but I didn't have the courage to join them. Once Bonde Do Role was finished, though, I went up to them and praised them for their dancing. Virtually no one was dancing during these shows - even during music that is typically made for dancing! My new friends said they weren't going to let trying to be cool keep them from having fun, and I thought that was great. They told me that if I saw them again I should join them.

So I did. After geting yelled at for being confused in the Port-a-Potty line, I ran into them at CSS, another Brazilian group, and we danced together for a solid 40 minutes or so. The circle started to spread, and eventually we had a fairly large number of people dancing it up. I think it was probably some of the most fun I've ever had. I also officially earned the nickname "Sammy Sammy Shimmy Shammy" from my new friend Liz, who looked suspiciously like she may have been related to Kathleen.

After that, I watched some of Cage, who gives me some hope for the rap/hip-hop seen. So do Aesop Rock and Mr. Lif, who I listened to while eating some dinner.

I sat down on the grass to listen to Mission of Burma, a veteran rock group that lived up to their reputation. I saw the first 10 minutes or so of Devendra Banhart, one of JT's heroes (whoa, as I typed that iTunes shuffled to a song by him). Then I traveled back to my favorite tent to see Glenn Kotche, the drummer from Wilco.


He was pretty incredible, performing compositions that included drum set, thumb piano, bells, and other percussive accessories. I hadn't seen a good percussion show in ages. I felt like I was at a PAS Day of Percussion. Glorious.

Then it was time for the legendary Yo La Tengo, who may have given the best performance of the festival. I was amazed. They've been playing together for about 20 years, yet they still pulled off a remarkable performance. Take that, Rolling Stones!

Finally, I watched Spoon while the guy next to me toked up. They too put on a great show. Of course, at this point my feet were dying and I was pretty gross. I had to catch the train back to Brookfield (the Eastman's neck of the woods), so I missed the also-and-perhaps-more legendary Os Mutantes. I apologize to the world for missing their first and last show in Chicago. There was nothing I could do about it.


And that was it. I saw more Sufjan Stevens, ninja-related, and thrift-store shirts, more tight jeans, dyed hair, and unknown shoe brands than I can possibly fathom. But it was fun. And, of course, I've always had a special place in my heart for indie girls. What can I say?

Monday

There's not much to say about this morning, except that I ate two fabulous meals. Jenn's dad made me a classic breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast. Amazing. Not healthy, but amazing. I also ate a fantastic sub at a place called Chicago Sub, just off of Michigan Ave, while I waited for my train.

And now I'm home safe and sound.

If you made it to this point, I congratulate you. I think this may have been the longest blog entry of all time. Pictures have been posted to fbook. Soon I will update all my .mac stuff. Apple has specifically designed .mac to frustrate those of us who don't have iLife '06. It's a pain in the neck to manage sites without it.

Okay, that's enough.

Peace,
Sam