“I don’t know why I’m even here for this fly by night festival, but I love of Montreal,” said the irritated (yet excited) man behind me in line to get into Northside Festival’s ”main event.” While the third act for the big show was waiting to go on, McCarren Park’s blacktop was less than a quarter full as the people who should’ve been watching were stuck behind a fence waiting in line for 30 minutes. While Northside festival aims to reach the same caliber of showcase-based festivals such as SXSW and CMJ, something makes it miss the mark, despite a slew of popular, talented, and buzzworthy acts.
The big show consisting of Beach Fossils, The Thermals, Jens Lekman, and of Montreal was to be the first in the newly opened Williamsburg Park, but was unfortunately be moved to the far less aesthetically pleasing asphalt of McCarren Park. Not only that, but in their attempt to feel more like a festival and have all-day programming, this big show started at four in the afternoon. Combined with the terrible line situation, people who got out early from work were lucky even if they saw Jens Lekman’s last song.
Checking into Northside this year gave the impression that things had improved from last summer, their central hub was a giant warehouse with NORTHSIDE emblazoned on its side, food trucks all around, and a sunset behind it. Sadly, it seems like this was just a front for a poorly thought through weekend. At multiple points, my Northside badge was as useless as a fake ID made by a kindergartener. Most of the showcases sold out 90% of their capacity to normal ticket sales, letting few badges in. Even if I showed up early, often I was turned away from the show. This almost completely defeats the purpose of being able to hop between the multiple shows within a couple of blocks of each other. And no, Northside Twitter Account, a free Jameson lounge doesn’t make up for the fact that I almost missed “The Opposite of Hallelujah” — well, kind of.
Sadly, this led to me seeing a total of five good performances throughout the entire weekend. Sorry GZA, Starfucker, Screaming Females, Caveman, Frankie Rose, Olivia Tremor Control, Dinosaur Feathers, The Thermals, Beach Fossils, and every other band I missed out on. I tried. Thankfully, the following top five acts made the weekend entertaining.
-Michael Zonenashvili
Staff Writer
Air Waves
Of all the bands Knitting Factory on the first day of Northside, ranging from what I thought was a Best Coast cover band (Beach Day) and a band who was so forgettable I only remember their name (Bleeding Rainbow, heh), Air Waves were the ones that piqued my interest. At first, the soft female vocals and bouncy guitars were reminiscent of Camera Obscura, but the next song had a thuddy baseline, vocal yelping akin to a dog’s foot getting stepped on, and the right tempo to be straight out of the Pixies catalogue, and it was damn good. Air Waves even invited us to a barbecue at their place, that’s what’s up.
These United States
Slide guitar kills me. In the right dosage, it was just one of the things that made These United States a standout band on Friday of the festival. Combined with their enthusiasm for having just released an album (their self-titled fifth LP), awkward and endearing stage banter, and one of my favorite drummers to watch of the weekend, they didn’t make me regret coming out to the Knitting Factory again. In a world where last year The Decemberists’ The King is Dead sold over 100,000 copies, the right amount of twang and pop can make a band strike a chord with their audience. These United States had the shuffling drums, slide guitar, walking bass, and the right amount of rasp in the vocals to resonate with the same people that The Decemberists did last year. Perhaps the combination of their male and female vocals weren’t quite Meloy and Gillian Welch, a little less country and a little more cute, but it worked.
of Montreal
No visual setup, not yet nighttime, and the decibel level turned down because we were kind of in a residential neighborhood, all of these things are kind of a downer to an of Montreal set. Luckily, Kevin Barnes and crew came on strong as always. Not solely relying on visuals or costumes, they plowed through what was basically a greatest hits set (of the second half of their career) with little to no pause between songs. The band is huge now, with K. Ishibashi providing screeching violin, B.P Helium busting out the same psychedelic solos, and more keyboardists and auxiliary percussion than you can ask for. “The Past is a Grotesque Animal” still incites panic attacks with it’s ten minute, one-riff build. “St. Exsquisite’s Confessions” has the kind of saxophone that was dangerous for all the abstinent couples in the audience. And, if you’re not singing loudly to “Suffer for Fashion” at an of Montreal show you’re doing something wrong.
Jens Lekman
“I don’t like bands/ no I don’t like concerts either/ Just a bunch of guys standing and spooning their girlfriends/ clutching their hands as if their weight was the only thing keeping them on the floor,” went the narrative bit of new song “I Know What Love Isn’t”. Someone once told me that when they saw a Jens Lekman show, the crowd spent half the show just making out. I believe her now. For the first half of his set, just Lekman and his acoustic played sultry versions of tracks complete with his story-telling scattered before and during the song. When it comes to Lekman, he might be the only one who can tell a story about manically stalking Kirsten Dunst around Gothemberg and making it, well, cute. No one likes when someone understands love more than them, except in Lekman’s case, in which his witty observations (and, let’s face it, that accent) make it okay to listen to someone musically lecture you through what love is and isn’t.
Turbo Fruits
Turbo Fruits shouldn’t be alive after a 65 day tour with Deer Tick, but they were the most alive band of the weekend. Hair and guitars were flying all over the stage as I entered the venue on the perfect song, “Volcano”. The anthemic track has singer Jonas Stein repeatedly yelling “VOLCANO! VOLCANO!” while building up a shred-y solo with thrashy instrumentals underneath. At some points, his voice teetered on Dave Mustaine rasp, and the fuzzy Thunderbird Bass could have easily been taken from “Peace Sells”. Combining that thrash with their garage-rock sound created the first mosh pit I ever saw in Brooklyn. Even when soloing at the front of the stage, one girl attempted to sensuously dance in front of Stein’s waist before he entered the crowd as the last song blew up. Turbo Fruits set brought the no frills rowdiness that Northside needed and could champion.
