I can’t believe I’ll be in New Orleans this weekend. I kept saying this to myself again and again in the days leading up to my departure from Chicago. This wasn’t exactly said in excitement, either – no, in fact, you could say it was laced with anxiety and stress. I’d be traveling alone to a city I’d never been to and what’s worse, I was sick with a diet version of the flu, and couldn’t stop sucking down vitamin D capsules and crackling open Sudafed packets. So, on Wednesday night, I paced around my apartment, muttering things to myself like some loon. Pretty sure I’m the only person who could ever worry about something as innocent and enthralling as New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival.

But that’s just how I deal with things; expect the punches, accept the hugs.

Admittedly, there’s a lot to fear about New Orleans if you’re an out-of-towner and your knowledge of the city is limited. For me, I’ve heard great things, but I’ve also heard horrible things. There’s never been any middle ground between the two, which might be why I sort of panicked prior to arrival. While my college roommate used to call it his “future home”, digressing on how it’s like being in another world with the most extraordinary people, music, and food, others in passing have called it the closest thing to a third-world country in America. These latter people weren’t very friendly (okay, you can call ‘em yuppies), but, hey, anyone or anything can play on the nerves.

So, yeah, you could imagine this was an interesting trip.

-Michael Roffman
President/Editor-in-Chief

Thursday, April 26th

5:48 a.m. - I’m still congested. Fuck.

5:55 a.m. - Shower. It’s too early in the morning for any real coherent thoughts. Instead, my attention is focused on a couple of stray tiles on my bathroom wall, and I make this weak mental reminder that I need to clean when I return. Seconds after this, I remember that I’ve yet to watch a single episode of Treme, and for some reason, my mind that’s half-asleep actually thinks this will be a detriment to my trip.

6:24 a.m. - Shortly after scanning my CTA card at the Red Line Station, I lose my balance swinging my bag over the turnstile and tumble down, as if I’m imitating Chevy Chase impersonating President Ford. It’s too early to be mortified, but also too early for anyone to ignore it. Oy.

7:35 a.m. - I’m the lucky winner who gets to be profiled by the TSA. The agent dusts around my computer, and I sort of smirk when he takes the time to look at all the stickers on it – especially the Dr. Dre one.

8:45 – 11:15 a.m. - I land in New Orleans before I can finish Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Dammit. I hope Dr. Jones gets the diary back.

11:43 a.m. - My cabbie takes some side streets to get downtown and offers me the lingo for ordering a po’boy. We both agree that “dressed” is the way to go. He also prefers the French Quarter Festival, which takes place in the second weekend of April, and is geared more to the locals. Who knew?

1:15 p.m. - The first thing I notice about New Orleans is its architecture. My hotel is located near the more tourist-friendly area surrounding the French Quarter, so I can’t stop snapping shots of the countless Creole-styled townhouses with their stained walls and wrap-around balconies. There’s a lot of history behind each door.

1:30 p.m. - I’m sweating bad. I can’t tell if it’s because I still feel shaky from the cold, or if it’s just the hot Louisiana sun. I’m also starving and dying for a po’boy. I double back to Canal Street and find my way over to this little hole-in-the-wall off Baronne Street called Cajun Mike’s. It’s a tiny sliver of a bar with a few video poker machines in the back, but the bartender’s cool and I immediately order a PBR, a pulled pork po’boy, and some sweet potato fries. “Dressed”, of course.

1:41 p.m. - I’m shocked to see an ashtray. It’s just been so long. Well, when in New Orleans, amirite?

1:55 p.m. - A couple nearby – some regulars – take a seat next to me, and there’s a discussion about a group of TSA workers who were arrested for passing through narcotics. I’m told they’ll get charged for life. I’m not sure if I believe this, but I can’t think too much about it because my thoughts are on this colossal sandwich of mine. Now, I’ve had a po’boy before – hell, I went to college in Tallahassee, FL (essentially “two doors down” in the scope of the universe) – and while there’s nothing extraordinary about it to make me feel like it’s authentic or something, it’s just good and it hits the spot. The sauce works, the pickles are crunchy, and the bread is sublime. In other words, perfect pub food.

1:56 p.m. - Okay, I’m feeling good about this place.

2:31 p.m. - Bourbon Street is notorious. It’s eight blocks of nonstop tourist attractions, loaded with everything from tacky, tasteless paraphernalia to popular, pricey seafood joints. I’ve always been told to stay away from it, and I’m not too interested in the sensationalized, super-charged bar experience it advertises, but I can’t help but check it out anyway. Two minutes down the street, I’m offered a wild time by some guy outside of Larry Flynt’s Hustler strip joint. Tempting, but no.

2:45 p.m. - I’ve come to the conclusion that the party never ends on Bourbon Street, or the French Quarter for that matter. The bars remain open, the strip joints rotate their girls, and the streets look like a party took a shit on them. Oh, by the way, you can’t round a corner without seeing beads on something, so don’t bother bringing them if you come.

3:27 p.m. - Years ago, Peaches Records & Tapes used to be in every large city across America. I know because it was the first record shop I ever visited. Sadly, the shop near me closed, as did the others – except one. There’s still one in New Orleans and I nearly have a heart attack when I walk by it. I decide to spend a good half hour inside, wandering through the countless vinyl and Record Store Day leftovers, and shop in this surreal shop-from-yesterday-but-today. I feel like Jimmy Stewart’s character in Vertigo when I see Michael Jackson’s Dangerous framed on the wall. That was one of the first personal purchases I can remember making.

4:22 p.m. - You wouldn’t know the city’s biggest festival was a day away, at least not from the ample crowd at Woldenberg Riverfront Park. Facing the Mississippi River, the park houses the Aquarium of the Americas, a few statues and art installments, and a good place to snap shots of boats, birds, and buildings. I take a seat, observe some other tourists playing around in the park, and then watch one of the riverboats sail off with my new friend, who happens to be a bird.

4:24 p.m. – I get this overwhelming feeling that I’m alone.

4:42 p.m. - While walking back to the hotel, I start thinking about this trip in general. Why am I here? What am I doing with myself? In all honesty, I’m probably the worst person to cover the festival – or even New Orleans, in general. I’ve never considered myself a huge fan of jazz; in fact, in college at Florida State University, I used to scoff at my friends who would obsess over Jazz Night at this off-campus, quasi-DIY bar. They would spend hours there, smoking and drinking and losing themselves in this community that always felt alien to me. Now, I’ve always respected the genre, I’ve just never tried to approach it. To me, it always felt so far removed from my understanding, and I long felt I wasn’t in any position to even try to absorb it. Oh, did I mention I’m also allergic to shellfish?

8:09 p.m. - After catching up on some work, I’m antsy and I want to dig deeper into New Orleans. I’ve tossed aside my stupid doubts from the afternoon, and I’ve come to the conclusion that discovery isn’t without its share of hurdles. Okay, so I originally booked this trip to see Brian Wilson join The Beach Boys for the first time in close to two decades, but in all honesty, I could have waited for their Chicago date. Because of this, I contend that there’s a deeper reasoning for me being here, and it’s to learn and to shatter any former barriers I’ve erected in the past, and that realization sparks something inside me.

9:02 p.m. - The French Quarter is pretty eerie to walk through at night. While I’m still disappointed I neglected to watch Treme, I’m ecstatic I haven’t seen Interview with a Vampire in about four years. It’s a long walk down Decatur to be thinking about vampires.

9:17 p.m. - I’m the sort of guy who likes to do research before trips; not to find tourist traps and similar ilk, but to bite into the real meat of a city. While all signs online pointed to Frenchman Street, I’m too intrigued in St. Claude, where two venues promise what could be a dizzying night. Every Thursday night, the Hi-Ho Lounge features music from local act The Stooges Brass Band, and tonight, the nearby punk club Siberia has a bill featuring Sleepy Sun and The Dirty Ghosts. Apples and oranges, sure, but there’s nothing that’s topping that.

9:24 p.m. - I’m starting to doubt my thoughts on skipping Frenchman Street, especially given the crowds, sounds, and local outdoor art markets. My college roommate was right, this is a different world.

9:34 p.m. - About 75% of the way there, while walking alone down Elysian Fields, I quickly remind myself that I’m just amicably strolling around with an expensive camera down poorly lit streets. I pick up the pace, light up a cigarette in hopes it gives me an edge (it doesn’t), and shag ass across the four-lane drag.

9:45 p.m. - It’s loud, very loud, and it’s also packed on St. Claude. Outside of the Hi-Ho Lounge, the Hot 8 Brass Band keep the corner warm with their gritty Southern-fried stew of jazz, funk, and hip-hop. No PA here, no amps, just brass. Having been around since the ’90s, the community is well attuned to their parade-style energy, but even without the background, there’s little doubt the scene wouldn’t involve the scattered dancing and singing. After all, I was.

10:11 p.m. - It’s a tight space within the Hi-Ho Lounge, but there’s hardly anyone inside yet. The Stooges Brass Band won’t go on for another 50 minutes, so I grab another PBR, watch the NFL Draft, and coincidentally meet a nice couple from the Midwest. They too explain they’re in a similar boat, and actually came for Saturday’s headliner, Tom Petty. We both agree that New Orleans, however, is the real character to this festival. Things are starting to feel oddly cozy.

10:58 p.m. - Two beers later, I turn around and discover the venue’s getting pretty, pretty, pretty crowded.

Sometime after 11 – One day I’ll credit the Stooges Brass Band for my shoddy attempt at learning the saxophone, but hey, at least I’ll have tried, right? For over an hour, the local legends – yes, they’re legends now, having worked on the scene since the mid’90s and being titled ”Best Contemporary Brass Band” at the Big Easy Music Awards last year – juiced the evolving crowd that inflated and deflated throughout their set. I particularly dug the fiftysomething veteran who dusted off his old dance floor moves from decades past. I didn’t catch the name of the vocalist who cut through the crowd several times, but I appreciated his flair for punky lyricism, specifically: “I kissed an uptown girl and I liked it/I fucked a downtown girl and I liked it.”

Sometime after 12 - I shake the saxophonist’s hand in hopes to get some of his magic. No, this actually happened.

Okay, it’s Friday morning - Stooges Brass Band instructs us to stay for the next act, but I’m too hungry to wait around. Stupid me, I opt out of the BBQ outside and instead decide to chow down on some garage-y punk and psychedelic rock at Siberia.

Maybe minutes after this - It’s an eight dollar cover at Siberia, a venue which reminds me of Chicago’s Hideout – in fact, I start wondering if I’m in Chicago, but only because I’m too tired to ground myself in reality at this point – and I decide to pay it. There’s maybe eight people inside, including the two bartenders, but it’s a promising enough scene to enjoy. I snap some shots of Dirty Ghosts, who are playing their closing song unfortunately, and I go for another beer. There’s a lot of energy in those last minutes, however, and I’m sort of bummed out I missed ‘em.

A little bit after that – New York City’s White Hills sets up rather quickly and the trio’s sound soaks up the walls within seconds. Guitarist Dave W. knows how to wrench the sound out of a guitar, and the harmonies from female bassist Ego Sensation work well alongside his steel-plated vocals, but the pulsing distortion just shuts me down. I can’t even make it for Sleepy Sun. I decide it’s time to jump ship.

??? - The walk back to the hotel proves eventful. I buy some street art that’ll spook my girlfriend out from a guy named Christian Taylor, discuss photography and college life with a girl named Lily, and manage to order a pizza nearby. The city is still alive though and it has defeated me. But I’m awake enough to make it back to my hotel room, debate between HBO or TNT, and eat two slices of pizza. As an insomniac, and a four-year survivor of South by Southwest, I can’t say this has been the longest day of my life, but it feels like I’m stepping off a rollercoaster and my head has yet to come back down. I end the night laughing.

Friday, April 27th

10:15 a.m. - Ouch. My legs hurt.

12:00 p.m. - Since the festival grounds are a good few miles away from the downtown area, I pick up three day’s worth of shuttle tickets and hop aboard. Don’t ever rely on cabs at a music festival. Trust me, your life will be a lot easier if you remember that.

12:15 p.m. - There’s a line. It’s long. It’s hot out. Fuck, part 2.

12:50 p.m. - Because it’s set on the Fair Grounds Race Track – fun fact: the third-oldest racetrack in America – I immediately think of the old classic rock shows that used to swing by the Greyhound track in South Florida. To my dismay, NOLA’s Jazz Fest did not book Kansas.

12:52 p.m. - I decide to stop by the Gentilly Stage, where Johnny Sketch and the Dirty Notes are entertaining an ample, loyal crowd. Sketch works with an electric guitar and cello, which offers a spin on the traditional funk rock that’s been spoiled and soured as of late. “Let’s work off those calories we’re going to be putting in ourselves today,” he screams before launching into “Saucy Jack”, another funky rocker that apes solos from Neal Schon of Journey. Great vocals, one hell of a supporting brass section (it helps that he had a Bonerama member tagging along), but I can’t help but wonder where those keys went.

1:10 p.m. - People love to get their square-dancin’ on with Geno Delafose & French Rockin’ Boogie. Yee haw.

1:13 p.m. - Dee-1 considers himself a “One Man Army.” I only know this because he not only sings about it, but he’s also wearing a shirt that says the same thing. When I make it to his set at the Congo Square Stage, the New Orleans rapper is already going off on a free style about paid hip-hop artists and being free from the confines of what have you. There’s this forced sense of anti-establishment here, but when he starts speaking from the heart, as on “The One That Got Away”, he connects well. If he didn’t look young, he sure as hell did when he exclaimed, “Where my mom and dad at, don’t tell me they left already.”

1:16 p.m. - His parents wave to him.

1:28 p.m. - Regardless of my food allergies, I still can’t forgive myself for eating a falafel sandwich in New Orleans. But hey, you gotta eat something.

1:45 p.m. - African composer, dancer, and choreographer Seguenon Kone is now a renown resident of New Orleans and plays the balafon and djembe drums. His resume sparkles my eyes, so I decide to swing by the small Jazz & Heritage Stage, where his blend of rhythm and dance just conjures up spiritual magic. This is pure, unadulterated rhythm and dance, however, and his dance company L’Ivoire Spectacle only brings to life the African beats with a Cajun aftertaste. I’ve been spinning Paul Simon’s Graceland a bunch lately, so this felt like a nice history lesson, connecting the dots somewhat.

2:05 p.m. - Kirk Joseph’s Backyard Groove sonically meets the expectations. That is, if you’re hearing multi-layered, afro-caribbean funk with a ’70s swagger. If anything, Kirk’s full-body sousaphone is a beast to observe. It takes a bold man to hold one of those.

2:11 p.m. - On my way to Gomez, I catch wind of the Grammy-award winning zydeco artist Chubby Carrier, who flings out some danceable numbers with his Bayou Swamp Band. One of the guys is wearing a shirt that says “Legalize Happiness”, which sums up the mentality of the crowd in a nutshell. Ugh. No time for dancing, though, Dr. Jones.

2:20 p.m. - Not a lot of UK artists at Jazz Fest, at least not this weekend, so Gomez always felt a little like the odd man out on the lineup. Still, by the time I race over, they’re performing to a couple thousand at the Gentilly Stage, amassing one of the first big crowds of the weekend. Given their mutating sound – they dabble between indie rock, psychedelia, folks, and blues – the UK export works well at Jazz Fest, and with help from the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, I can’t help but think they sound better in the bayou. Several fans sing along with an oldie like the rather fitting “Here Comes the Breeze”, but I just can’t shake the hammy lyrics. Instrumentally, though, it’s groovy.

3:17 p.m. - Oh yeah, The Beach Boys are performing tonight!

3:25 p.m. - Whoever books for the Congo Square Stage just does it right. Sound issues plague the band at first, but Seun Kuti and his Egypt 80 arrive in style and waste no time in releasing the party favors. Son of afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti, Seun actually borrows heavily from the late James Brown, shimmying across the stage with blind enthusiasm and a fury that’s purely gospel – well, when he’s not greasing his tracks with the saxophone. A cover of his father’s track “Zombie” starts off the set well, but it’s when he kicks into high gear with his own material off last year’s Brian Eno-approved From Africa With Fury: Rise that the crowd actually starts to swell. I also can’t get enough.

3:50 p.m. - Shiiiiit, I have a fetish with the saxophone, and I’m just not gonna shake it.

4:16 p.m. - Time keeps counting down to The Beach Boys. I start making my way towards the colossal Acura Stage, where Zebra is currently playing. Although they’re locals to the wetlands, their sound couldn’t stick out more. It’s ’70s progressive hard rock and it’s a little too spacey for the more organic fare throughout the festival. When they light up a string of Zeppelin covers (“Heartbreaker” sounds pretty dead-on, admittedly), I can’t help but think they once posed as Zoso, the touring Led Zep cover band that would perform monthly in Tallahassee. I only think of this because of the close proximity and the mere fact that Zebra’s singer also looks slightly like Jeff Daniels.

5:05 p.m. - Like a psychopath, I’m sitting in the photo pit for The Beach Boys 30 minutes before their scheduled set. Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over” plays over the PA, and I start interpreting the lyrics literally, and then I think about Stephen King’s The Stand and spiral into even weirder thoughts. Shaking that off, I check my watch and then I start thinking about the Beach Boys reunion on the whole. Having read Brian Wilson’s autobiography Wouldn’t It Be Nice – a book which has since been pulled off the shelves due to inconsistencies stemming from his previous psychiatrist, who helped author the book with Brian – I’m fully aware of the songwriter’s troubles; however, if even 60% of that book is true, I myself would never want to be a part of this reunion.

Now, I’ve always championed them as America’s greatest band; the one true act to rival The Beatles. (Most people scoff at this, but go listen to Pet Sounds, last year’s The Smile Sessions, and/or “Surf’s Up”, “God Only Knows”, and “Good Vibrations” and then come up with an argument for another American act.) But there’s no doubt that the majority of their career is fraught with countless muck ups, namely their work in the ’80s and ’90s. Between “Kokomo” – a track I enjoy, but in the same way I enjoy REO Speedwagon, which is to say “sometimes” – and their wince-inducing appearances on Full House (groan) and Home Improvement (double groan), not to mention Stars and Stripes, Vol. 1, it’s difficult to champion their name sometimes.

So, I think a part of me feels like this reunion is a way to set that straight – maybe. Whereas Brian has carved out an exceptional solo career for himself, embracing the idea that he was the true genius behind the group, the other members have either pilfered the name around (Love, Bruce Johnston) or just done other things (Al Jardine, David Marks). Here’s why I think I’ve been so ecstatic about this reunion: Although Brian’s always going to be the talent, he needs the tools to get his ideas across. He could stack session after session musician around him (ha, he did), but it goes back to the original formula of the brothers Wilson, Love, Jardine, and, okay, Marks and Johnston, too. To hear that equation in-person, on-stage before it’s gone forever just felt necessary, at least to me, who was born around the time they started declining.

5:30 p.m. - Uncle Jesse, erm John Stamos, stops out, and despite having to shoot the set, I can’t help but laugh. I have no problems with Stamos, and I think he’s hilarious, but it’s just odd seeing him in the flesh – or at least this close. He’s the real-life equivalent of Dorian Gray. He goes on about how he’s still the president of The Beach Boys fan club, then discusses how they’ve always created “heart music”, and how there’s no band that captures the spirit of Americana like they do. Hey, now I have an ice breaker if we ever meet.

5:33 p.m. - It’s one hit after another. They open with “Do It Again”, follow it up with a medley of oldies (“Catch a Wave”, “Don’t Back Down”, “Surfin’ Safari”, “Surfer Girl”), and hardly quit. Love remains the showman, Johnston continues to smile, but it’s Jardine’s vocals and Marks’ athletic guitar work that truly elevate the tracks on-stage. Then there’s Brian. I’ll get to him in a second, though.

5:55 p.m. - Stamos’d again. This time he’s performing drums on “Be True to Your School”. Before the track, Love makes a rather clever jab about sleeping with his mother. Pretty funny.

6:15 p.m. - While Brian’s been sedative the whole time, he comes alive when he’s singing, as he does on a deep cut like “Sail on, Sailor”. This sparks a Brian-led medley that continues with an on-target cut of “Heroes and Villains”, peaks with “God Only Knows”, and comes down for a landing with their latest single, “That’s Why God Made the Radio”.

6:31 p.m. - Yeah, the new single’s not that bad.

6:40 p.m. – Al Jardine just knocks the shit out of “Help Me Rhonda”. This is why the reunion is a must-see.

6:50 p.m. - Getting close to the end, guess it’s time for…

6:51 p.m. - Once, twice, three times a Stamos’d. “Bermuda, Bahamas…”

6:52 p.m. - I didn’t catch Brian’s expression around this time, but I’ve always winced at that Full House appearance where Michelle Tanner mutters “kokomo” and he replies, “I think we have a request.” I’m willing to bet that scene was awkward to shoot, and that Brian probably didn’t dig that moment, and I’m also willing to bet this was a moment he wasn’t enjoying, either.

6:55 p.m. – Is there anything better than the opening verse of “Good Vibrations”? No.

7:00 p.m. - Save for a happier Brian, I can’t say there’s anything missing from this reunion. They scattered the hits with the deeper stuff – although, I’d still like them to go deeper than “Sail on, Sailor” – and nobody missed a mark. Hell, Johnston managed to get people to clap. I walk away with a big ol’ grin. I even buy a fan-made poster.

7:06 p.m. - The never-ending line to the shuttles sparks memories of Titanic (1997).

7:14 p.m. - A couple from Toronto discusses the legalization of marijuana with an elderly man who bears a strong resemblance to the yet-to-be-made Dr. John bio pic starring Richard Attenborough.

7:26 p.m. - The still never-ending line to the shuttles sparks memories of Titanic 3-D (2012).

8:01 p.m. – Professionals like to “talk shop”, music fans love talking up past gigs. Almost everyone in line has one to tell, and seemingly every person shares it. I manage to meet a hip Los Angeles couple with the best stories of ‘em all.

8:16 p.m. - Yes, Mr. Yorke, meeting people is easy.

9:27 p.m. - If you’re in New Orleans, you’re eating at Cochon. As a self-aware foodie, thanks to a girlfriend whose celebrity crushes involve Anthony Bourdain and Grant Achatz, I’m a sucker for fine-dining, but not of the snooty kind. I like my meals grounded in reality, without being too plain. I also love eating the genre of food I want, not some fair-share offshoot that’s loosely related. Cochon does all of that and doesn’t fool around with its Cajun stylings.

It’s packed when I get there, but as with most trendy restaurants, it’s easier to grab some space at the bar. I order a few high-end cocktails, dabble with slightly left-field appetizers (e.g. bacon-wrapped chicken gizzards), invest in the smoked beef brisket, and have a closed-door affair with the macaroni & cheese casserole. Later on,there’s a great discussion had with the bartender about how it feels like there’s no North and South in New Orleans, simply because of the curve around the river. I tell him that’s probably why this place feels like another world. I can’t tell if he hears me, though.

Sometime after 11 - You learn things every time you travel, especially in new places and during a first-time run at festivals. Although New Orleans never sleeps, you can’t stay up late, get up early, and plan to do it again the next night. Like a bum, I have a cigarette, return to my hotel room, and escape into some Kurt Russell movie on HBO. I’m destroyed, aching all over, but my stomach’s happy and my mind’s settled in. I think I’m starting to treat this room like an apartment.

Saturday, April 28th

11:00 a.m. - I want a muffuletta.

11:22 a.m. - Around the corner and a couple blocks down, I find another hole-in-the-wall pub, this one’s called Evelyn’s Place. Outside, it looks like a little cottage from Londontown, and inside it does, too, but there’s so much to look at it. There’s a wooden lion’s head at the door, a myriad collection of baseball hats in the rafters, and an endless supply of paper bills that line the restaurant’s walls, all from various parts of the world; some say things, others don’t. It’s also small inside Evelyn’s, but that’s part of its charm. When I step inside, there’s only two guys in the back eating sandwiches. Since it’s early and it’s a bar, I’m not too surprised. I look around, find the roughneck menu, order my muffuletta, and just relax.

11:27 a.m. - “My momma, the ol’ bitch, holds port in Orlando, FL,” someone tells this older man sitting at the door of the bar. I can’t help but be nosy and listen in. They toss the word “bitch” around nonstop, so I ask this guy, whose name is Frank, what they were discussing. He points to a little memorial of a woman named Evelyn, no surprise there, who was “the bitch” to everyone at the bar. She’s long passed,but the bar retains her name – it was originally called Stonehenge. So, clearly lots of character here.

11:33 a.m. - If you’re lost on the name, a muffuletta is a sandwich similar to a po’boy that includes marinated olive salad, capicola, salami, pepperoni, emmentaler, ham, and provolone. It’s a custom in New Orleans, and I just had to have one. Fortunately for me, it also comes with red beans and rice, a personal favorite, which also tastes fine. Again, nothing mind-blowing, but it’s reliable, hits the spot, and tastes like nothing else. This is how a good day starts.

12:06 p.m. - I’m not in any rush to get out to the festival today. It’s pool time, baby.

1:51 p.m. - Hard to ignore an aggressive act and that’s pretty much what attracts me to Shamarr Allen and the Underdawgs over at the Gentrilly Stage. There’s a lot of modern alternative rock that scuffs up the underbelly of Allen’s tunes, but it’s his energetic rapport with the audience and his unconventional approach to brass – he plays trumpet – that brandishes him as different. When I arrive at his set, he’s just finishing up a slightly uplifting, if not frantic rocker that leads him into smashing his instrument into the ground. I’ve never seen a brass musician go all punk rock like that, but it was pretty sweet. Double points for crowd surfing, bringing out an all children’s brass section, and telling everyone to “jump out of their drawers.” Basically, he should be playing every festival, especially with a closing line like this: “I told y’all white people have rhythm.” Hilarious.

2:35 p.m. - I miss the majority of Cheikh Lô of Senegal’s set at Congo Square, but from the snippets I catch, it appears I should invest some time in his work. Consider this my little reminder.

2:47 p.m. - The line for Strawberry Lemonade is far too long today, which actually upsets me more than it should. I just really wanted strawberries – and lemonade. Strawberry Lemonade.

2:51 p.m. - Instead, I opt for the Frozen Mango slushee thing; no idea why, either. I’ve hated mangos ever since I had a tree in my backyard growing up. They smashed all over my dock, then smelled up everything, and nearby ducks would try to eat them. Yeah, I wasted a few bucks on this one. #firstworldproblems

3:02 p.m. – There’s a Jazz Tent, a Blues Tent, and a Gospel Tent. Walter “Wolfman” Washington is performing in the Blues Tent, and when I get there, I’m automatically having flashbacks of a born-again Christian life I’ve never had before. It’s as if I’m in a Southern makeshift, outdoor church. Christ it’s creepy.

3:06 p.m. - Is that “The Chicken” by Jaco Pastorious, Mr. Wolfman? Too cool, but that goes without saying.

3:22 p.m. - With Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers only an hour or two away, the Acura Stage gets crowded once more, though partly because there’s a whole lotta talent on-stage, too. Dubbed the Voice of the Wetland Allstars, Tab Benoit, Dr. John,
Cyril Neville, Anders Osborne, Big Chief Monk Boudreaux, Johnny Vidacovich, Johnny Sansone, and Waylon Thibodeaux are all crammed together for a late afternoon jam, which segues into just about every style New Orleans can offer. As the name infers, the nonprofit organization raises awareness for the loss of wetlands in southern Lousiana, and is led by Benoit himself.

3:26 p.m. - Having never seen Dr. John live, I’m sort of spooked at how calm and cool he actually is, and it’s all in those eyes. He hardly moves them and when he does, it’s when you’re not looking – almost like a gator, and that’s not a comparison strictly because he’s a resident in the swamp. Well, maybe it is, but still.

4:15 p.m. - “We still lose an acre every hour,” he instructs. “We lost one while playing this set.” Pretty creepy, but Benoit hardly keeps the spirits down, adding, “I trust us. I like us. I believe in us. Together, we make a great gumbo.” You can imagine which track Benoit would play next.

4:45 p.m. - I get a kick watching the sixtysomething men flirt with the thirtysomething women. There’s a part of me that’s happy for them, if only they weren’t doing this while their wives got them beer.

5:06 p.m. - One thing that’s become apparent is the diversity of the crowd at Jazz Fest, or the lack thereof. Considering New Orleans is so culturally rich, I half-expected the crowds to be similar, and in some ways they were (depending on the act, I guess), but man, there were a lot of golfers there.

5:10 p.m. - I tend to forget just how great of a songwriter Tom Petty can be, but I’m quickly reminded with the first four songs of his set: “Listen to Her Heart”, “You Wreck Me”, “Won’t Back Down”, and my personal all-time favorite “Here Comes My Girl”. Quite a stellar launch off, but Petty knows better and slims back the hits some. “We were so excited. For years and years we wanted to come to Jazz Fest,” Petty tells the crowd. “We’ve got a lot of songs to play for you.”

5:28 p.m. - “We’re watching Tom Petty!” someone nearby screams.

5:56 p.m. - Petty’s on fire with some back catalogue stuff, including non-Heartbreakers material like Traveling Wilburys’ “Handle with Care” (don’t worry, Roy Orbison’s parts are sung to perfection by organist Scott Thurston), the very CCR-esque “Something Big”, and the acoustic strummer “Time to Move On”.

Photo by B&B Photography

6:11 p.m. - On second thought, some of the Mojo tracks drag on a little too long, and I still think the slowed down version of “Learning to Fly” is a little flat. That’s just me, though.

6:45 p.m. - Because I don’t want to stand in line for three hours tonight just for a ride, I start heading out, but can hear the sounds of “American Girl” in the background. Sort of a perfect way to hear it, come to think of it.

9:00 p.m. - I meet up with my newfound LA buddies again, and brave a seafood restaurant: The Bourbon House. We order some fried alligator for an appetizer, which I could have sworn I’ve had before, but can’t remember exactly when. I know I’ve had frog legs previously (they taste like chicken, but yeah, gross), though the taste or consistency of gator feels alien to me. Still, I sort of take pleasure in eating an animal I’m absolutely terrified. Turtle soup, on the other hand, that’s where I draw the line.

12:00 p.m. - Three hours later we’re done with dinner. Now, this sort of bonding isn’t a part of the festival, and granted, you could meet people anywhere, but I feel New Orleans – and even Jazz Fest, in general – warrants these sort of interactions. For one, the whole festival ends by seven o’clock each night and you’re then surrounded by an engaging nightlife, no matter where you are in the city. If you’re visiting, it would be foolish to retire early to a hotel room. In some respects, the nightlife is the festival, and the people within are a part of the experience.

12:45 a.m. - Time to hit up the Maison.

12:54 a.m. - The walk down Decatur doesn’t get any easier – or, any less creepier. I feel like someone’s always about to pop up around each corner and from within every doorstoop. Nope, just more street artists.

1:09 a.m. - It’s already pretty late by the time I reach the Maison, but it doesn’t matter. Frenchmen Street hardly shows any signs of slowing down. Artisans try and sell their pieces, there’s one girl who’s dressed a bride and god knows what she’s selling, one lanky teen has set up a bass amp and is playing rudimentary notes, couple other girls are sitting with typewriters and selling poetry, and in between are drunks or soon-to-be drunks. It smells like cigarettes, it’s sticky on the sidewalk, and noise is but a memory. It’s all just a clayball of chaos, but it’s entertaining.

1:15 a.m. - I’m here for Shamarr Allen, and although $15 dollars is steep for a late local gig like this, I’m not too bothered. Outside, I can hear him covering Coldplay’s “Paradise” on the trumpet, and by the time I get in, he’s knocking out trumpet-fied versions of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and “Rolling in the Deep”. He’s set to debut his video for the track “Typical Rock Star”.

1:56 a.m. - The projector breaks, then works, and then breaks again. They opt to perform “Typical Rock Star” instead, and it’s all around an awkward, slightly tense scene. What’s worse, the track itself is pretty weak in comparison to his other stellar work. Oh well.

2:11 a.m. - I start yawning, I start leaving.

2:38 a.m. - The walk back is, well, different. For the first time all weekend, the city sounds dead silent, and it’s intimidating.

Sunday, April 29th

2:12 p.m. - I’m told Jazz Fest doesn’t sell out. When I trek towards the Acura Stage, however, I start to wonder if they oversold the weekend. It’s almost impossible to walk anywhere. You’d think Bruce Springsteen was playi–ohhhhhh riiiiight.

2:17 p.m. - There’s a line for every water stand. The sun is the hottest it’s been all weekend. I’m already complaining.

2:33 p.m. - After yesterday’s rousing performance, I’m not exactly running to see Dr. John again. I’m of the variety that appreciates a first taste and doesn’t necessarily need to double-dip. Stupid me, though, as Malcolm John “Mac” Rebennack, Jr. arrived to deliver a volley of his own hits. “Right Place, Wrong Time” is a jukebox staple and I can’t help but boogie a little on my own as he hammers it out. Shortly after this, it occurs to me that he’s responsible for “Ac-cent-tchu-ate The Positive”, which I’ll always remember fondly as The Mighty Ducks montage song.

3:15 p.m. - No Dan Auerbach appearance, though the cuts off his latest LP, Locked Down, sound just as fierce. Something to take away from each of his performances is his manner of being. He’s stoic and rigid and appears to be this immovable force, and he may be considering he’s been shot and beaten repeatedly in his life, but within him is this spectral force that refuses to settle. It’s that weighty urgency that adds character to his songs and performances and it’s a surreal thing to witness live.

3:28 p.m. - I witness this: A woman is banging her tambourine along to Dr. John’s set and some downer of a guy tells her to stop. I start worrying there’s going to be a great tambourine riot. Instead, there’s just bickering between the two, which does nothing but bring the mood down.

3:36 p.m. - The ol’ Doc previews a new track he’s been working on by bringing out young rapper L.G. Meyer. In a Memphis Grizzlies jersey and some bright red Nike’s, the kid spits rhymes over Dr. John’s traditional funk. The crowd isn’t buying it, and neither am I. Towards the end, he attempts to emulate Vanilla Ice with a “Go, Dr, Go” chant. You could almost hear the collective groan from the adult crowd.

3:50 p.m. - I notice some guy wearing a Tunnel of Love tour shirt. I try and discuss with him the insanity of that tour, namely the ludicrous amusement park installments on stage and Springsteen’s gratuitous practice of pouring water down his pants, but he’s too much of a stiff to talk. A part of me thinks I just came off as an asshole to him; the other part of me, who likes to play celebrity doppelgänger, is slightly convinced he’s Billy Joel.

4:01 p.m. - He isn’t Billy Joel.

4:33 p.m. - Hardly a cloud in the sky by the time Springsteen and the E Street Band roll through set opener “Badlands”. It’s a little odd seeing them in broad daylight, and the band picks up on this, too. After Nils Lofgren falls down early in the set, Springsteen exclaims, “We’re used to playing in the dark – seeing everything is fucking us up.”

4:47 p.m. - “Out in the Street” appears early. Very interesting.

4:52 p.m. - Almost 20 minutes in, it’s quite clear that New Orleans has been hungry to see this band again. Not only is the Acura Stage hosting the biggest crowd of the weekend, but the most enthusiastic one, too. Even during a newer cut like “Death to My Hometown”, thousands upon thousands of voices sing along in unison, as if it’s “She’s the One” or “Kitty’s Back”.

4:55 p.m. -  “That show from 2006 stayed with me for a very long time,” Springsteen states, referring to when he appeared at Jazz Fest with the Seeger Sessions Band. “Thank you for giving us an opportunity to do what our band was built for.”

5:12 p.m. -  Classic Bruce moment to take home: He digresses on something about stimulating spirits, but then randomly throws in a joke about stimulating the crowd’s sexual organs. “Just scream when that occurs,” he says cooly. “We’ll catch up with you later.” He can’t stop grinning, but neither can we.

5:23 p.m. - What would he do without those bridges into the crowd? It’s still funny how he treats the stage like a playground.

Photo by B&B Photography

5:35 p.m. - Springsteen makes it no secret that this setlist is tailored for New Orleans specifically. Or, it’s just a strange coincidence he decided to perform: “Death to My Hometown”, “My City in Ruins”, “How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live”, “Jack of All Trades”, and a jam with Dr. John on Chris Kenner’s “Something You Got”. Uhh, yeah.

5:36 p.m. - It’s around this time I start to lose interest, though. There’s nothing wrong with these tracks, but altogether, it’s too preachy. Here’s a city celebrating its heritage and its stronger suits and these songs are just downright depressing. I’m not looking for a greatest hits medley, or even these rare, deep cuts, but how about some variety, at least thematically? It just felt like overkill.

5:40 p.m. - There was also Al Green performing nearby, too.

5:42 p.m. - I don’t believe in god, but if there’s one person to convince me it’s The Reverend. I’ve never seen him live, so when he struts on stage singing “Take Me to the River”, I have this Fred Sanford moment. Soulful and smiling, Green tosses flowers to his nearby fans, who all dive at opposite ends to grab them – only a few get lucky.

5:48 p.m. - “Let’s Get Married” should be required listening for men everywhere. Everywhere.

5:55 p.m. - This is the way to end the weekend. Under the unforgiving Southern skies, Green shuffles about, sweating profusely in his thick black suit and from behind those trademark shades of his. “I’m here with you, you’re here with me, and we’re here with eachother.” The cheers just get louder, I can’t help but join them. “Let’s have a good time while we’re together.”

6:01 p.m. - Sorry Diamond Dave, Al Green’s “Pretty Woman” is just too sweet. That makes the festival two for two on Orbison takes over the weekend. Very nice.

6:09 p.m. - Hearing “Let’s Stay Together” live makes me feel a whole lot better for missing “Born to Run” later on. Green’s vocals haven’t aged at all and one might argue they’ve gathered a shiny film to it. It’s a moment like this that you just wish wouldn’t end, and when it does, you’re just in this blind stupor.

6:25 p.m. – On my way out, I catch Janelle Monáe for a quick minute or two. I’ve never seen her, though I’ve been a fan of hers since she guested on Outkast’s Idlewild. Apparently she covered Prince and the Jackson 5, but the only two cuts I get are “Cold War” into “Tightrope”, which is a pretty ballsy move considering they’re her biggest tracks. Someday, ma’am, someday.

6:52 p.m. - The end of every trip is hard. Unless you honest-to-god hated the place, it’s always bittersweet to leave. I play this torturous game in my head where I recount how many hours it’s been since the beginning of a particular event, or sometimes the end. It started years ago when I’d leave my long-distance girlfriend. I’d drive home and just count the hours since I had last seen her, touched her, hugged her, etc. They call that loss. I don’t feel that for New Orleans just yet, but there are snapshots that flash back and forth.

7:01 p.m. - I’m a big fan of parallels and keeping things thematic or cohesive. So, it’s no surprise that I grab a po’boy before I leave, bringing things full circle. This time, however, I stop not at some hole-in-the-wall, but an institution.

7:05 p.m. - Mother’s Restaurant has been around since 1938 and it looks like it. The exterior shows its age and the interior takes you back some years, thanks to its ’50s finishings.

7:15 p.m. - Since they pride themselves for their baked ham, I order up a po’boy with that, and a side of red beans and rice. I’ve had this meal before over the weekend, but I can’t get enough. Sure, too much of anything is a bad thing, but in New Orleans, I gotta be bad.

7:30 p.m. - I’ve ranted and raved about food for about four days now, and with the exception of Cochon and the alligator bites at The Bourbon House, nothing’s drilled through my mind. Mother’s hits the spot in every way a meal that costs just over 10 bucks can. They “dress” the sandwich to perfection, with due credit given to the choice of pickels, and the red beans and rice has an ideal consistency. Their homemade pepper sauce, available on every table inside, brings it all home, though. I couldn’t ask for a better last meal in New Orleans.

Shortly after - The walk to my hotel is slightly bittersweet because I know I’ll start writing this within the hour and then everything will really be over. I think back to how I worried so much the previous week, how I almost wanted to cancel the trip altogether, and how my anxiety almost got the best of me. Sadly, not much has changed. I’m still congested, riddled with worrying thoughts, and I’m already over-thinking the next thing down the line.

Just after that - It takes awhile for the sun to set during this time of the year, but I feel like the light lingers for a bit in New Orleans. It’s close to eight and there’s this teal haze over the city streets, where it’s not evening anymore but it’s also not quite night yet, either. It’s a weird middle ground, but it’s a pretty sight to take in. Since my hotel window has a decent city view, I stand there for a minute and just watch. I can’t believe I’ll be in Chicago tomorrow.

Gallery

Photographer: Michael Roffman

The 36th annual Beale Street Music Festival runs May 4-6th at Tom Lee Park in Memphis, Tennessee. The festival usually has an eclectic lineup and this year is no different. My Morning Jacket, Florence and the Machine, Jane’s Addiction, Girl Talk, and Primus top the bill, and they’ll be joined by Megadeth, Lupe Fiasco, Al Green, Wiz Khalifa, Alison Krauss and Union Station, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, and Bush.

Also playing are Coheed and Cambria, Childish Gambino, Three 6 Mafia, Buddy Guy, The Cult, Cold War Kids, The Head and the Heart, Dr. Dog, Michael Franti & Spearhead, Big K.R.I.T., Black Lips, The Civil Wars, Son Volt, Robert Randolph and the Family Band, Volbeat, Gary Clark Jr., Old 97s, and Zoogma, among others.

Single-day, three-day and VIP packages are now available via the festival’s website.

It’s already been a gloomy summer on the coast of California, so we needed this festival. SoCal already had its dominating festival, Coachella, and it was time for the Bay Area to strut its own breed of music festival again. And what better place to spend a weekend at than the legendary Golden Gate Park? The California coast might not have brightened up, but everybody was certainly in high spirits. In retrospect, how couldn’t you be?

This year, Outside Lands came off like a modern hybrid. For one, the lineup bridged a number of generation and stylistic gaps, opening up some people’s perceptions. This was one of the first festivals in which I can safely say a large chunk of the audience was over 40, and it didn’t seem creepy, or weird (a young girl asked about Furthur posting their set list online and everybody looked at her like she was insane). You had bands catering to the aged crowd who remembers what things were like “back in the day,” like Levon Helm, Al Green, and Social Distortion, but you had the top acts of generation-now like the Strokes, the Kings of Leon, Phoenix, and My Morning Jacket. This was a festival for all the freaks of the Bay to come out of the woodwork and unite under the sun, even if it wasn’t out.

And the freaks came out, rest assured, and it was wonderful to remember that if it weren’t for weird people like us, there wouldn’t be a festival to talk about. Outside Lands was a place this year where everybody could gather, be themselves, and rock out in one of America’s most historic spots in one of its coolest cities. Overall it was alright, I guess I’ll go next year.

Saturday, August 14th

People Under the Stairs
Lands End, 12:00 p.m.

Nothing could have made me happier than walking into Golden Gate Park to hear the San Francisco Knights themselves conducting some turntable Scientifics. “I think we got this party started,” they boasted to a crowd of “old hippies”: as they so eloquently put it. The titan twosome of Thes One and Double K threw it down to kick off the first day of the festival. The group had no problem representing the Bay Area, with their classic tune “San Francisco Knights”, and even discussed the weather, just before dropping into “Acid Raindrops”.

People Under the Stairs genuinely wanted to get the party going with their Mid-City Fiesta antics. Everyone around was totally indulging, as they lit joints all over the place, which was relished by the MCs themselves, who stated “shit was kicking in.” But they wanted to keep it positive, “It’s a little cold, but it could be warm if you believe,” Double K said. The group then launched into “Tripping at the Disco” to close their set of stoned age hip-hop for the early risers. -Ted Maider

Electric Six
Sutro, 12:40 p.m.

“That opening act was amazing. Rap rap rap. rap ra rap rap rap (in mock-rap tone). We are trying to start shit with the other bands so maybe they fight us and we get more press.” – Dick Valentine

Electric Six are instigators. They were out to start a party, get in trouble, make you dance, anything, really, to get you out of your 12:45 p.m. trance. And if you base you enjoyment of music by your engagement rather than what you actually hear, they were a success. Lead singer Dick Valentine is a ham, thrusting his pelvis, shaking his arms, and cracking jokes like he was at the Brea Improv, but I laughed at all of them, so I guess his mission was a success. When the group busted out “Danger, High Voltage”, I expected some kind of mass hysterics (like when I perform the same song at karaoke), but, alas, it was still the early afternoon and the moderate enthusiasm that was prevalent for everything was about as much as they were going to get. We sure had some laughs, though. - Philip Cosores

Freelance Whales
Twin Peaks, 12:45 p.m.

You can only read a band’s name so many times, and see them on so many festival lineups before you get curious enough to see them. Freelance Whales‘ brand of mellow indie seemed to win over the San Fran hipster crowd at Outside Lands on day one. Their music seemed mystical, and slightly warming on this dreary Bay day. But it wasn’t their show that drew me in, it was their bizarre instrumentation. For example, percussionist/keyboardist/guitar player Kevin Read had a watering can that he repeatedly beat with a mallet. Not to mention, Doris Cellar played some sort of tabled squeeze box for one of their slower and more melodic numbers. “We’d like to thank San Francisco for the last six months of our lives,” they said with pride towards the end of the show. So they thanked us, by playing some more cheery tunes. -Ted Maider

Sierra Leone’s Refugee All-Stars
Lands End, 1:25 p.m.

You got to have yourself some sort of reggae act at a festival to get the early and sunny crowd in high spirits. Well, there was no sun for Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Star’s performance, but they brought forth hypothetical sunshine with their slick reggae grooves. All throughout the crowd, girls splashed with tie dye and dancing in hula hoops were present, as well as several other patrons smoking copious amounts of marijuana to accompany the world music Sierra Leone and company put on. People didn’t necessarily sing along with lyrics that were a) in a different language or b) indecipherable, but the vibe of the music asked everyone to groove, and that’s exactly what they did. -Ted Maider

Pretty Lights
Sutro, 2:15 p.m.

I wandered around for quite some time before Derek Vincent Smith, aka Pretty Lights (aka the sole DJ I wanted to see at this festival), took the stage, and I planned on staying for every second of his jaw-dropping show. Just one year ago, I saw the guy at one of the tents at Bonnaroo, at 3 am, with the e-tard crowd coming down from Phish. Now he had his own slot on one of the bigger stages at Outside Lands in the middle of the afternoon, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to throw down.

The thing about Pretty Lights is he embodies everything about the modern DJ. He’s got some sort of turntable scenario going on (whether they are digital or not is beyond me), as well as two laptops (one Mac, one PC) set up on both ends of his operation. Then, he takes his fantastic contraption of an instrument and brings in samples from all over the spectrum, from eerie piano to distorted guitars, thus getting everyone in the crowd to break it down. But he turns these samples into all different types of electronic music, making his work totally accessible to anyone endorsing in that medium. Pretty Lights is going to make things happen in the electronic world if his show keeps building and building up like his live music. -Ted Maider

Gogol Bordello
Lands End, 3:05 p.m.

Just prior to Gogol Bordello arriving on stage, I passed their singer while roaming through the VIP section. He looked, for lack of a better term, fucking menacing. And let me tell you, that menacing dude can rock in quite the menacing fashion. The high-tempo Gypsy insanity that is Gogol Bordello was a sound to be reckoned with at three in the afternoon. The band blasted through songs like the sonic insanity of “Start Wearing Purple” and “Wonderlust King”, while the audience proceeded to go into a gyrating frenzy. It’s not like the band took it easy either, though. Lead singer and guitar player Eugene Hutz sweat out his entire body weight as he rocked to the band’s furious songs.  To pronounce their ending, Hutz jumped up onto the drum set and took a bow. Everybody was quite pleased. But did you expect anything less from them? -Ted Maider

Levon Helm Band
Twin Peaks, 3:45 p.m.

Levon Helm and his gang of cronies showed up at the Twin Peaks stage in the mid-afternoon to lighten up the mood a bit. Between all the electronic, hip-hop, and rock music, it was finally something the older and Dead-Head crowd could truly appreciate. The group launched through some Band classics (like “The Weight”), covered the Dead (“Tennessee Jed”), and played a number of post-Band tracks, as well. His 10-plus unit performed some crunchy tunes that hippies gladly twirled around to in the grass. Meanwhile, the band had a good time by improvising with acoustic fury as they used their unique and large group of instruments to perform tunes for a sleepier, more laid-back crowd. -Ted Maider

Bassnectar
Sutro, 4:05 p.m.

Bassnectar is the scariest DJ ever. In fact, the whole time I was watching him all I could wonder was how in the fuck he became a DJ. As soon as the guy came out, everyone immediately lost their shit and began to rock their hardest electronic moves. Accompanied with hundreds of giant, black, beach balls, Bassnectar broke it down with his rare form of alternative metal dub-step, mixing bits from all over (most notably his remix of “No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn”). The multi-genre mixer caused the earth to quake, people’s hearts to pump up a few notches, and me to freak the hell out. -Ted Maider

My Morning Jacket
Lands End, 5:00 p.m.

“God bless you, San Francisco.” –Jim James

My Morning Jacket never ceases to amaze me. The Bay Area crowd was genuinely stoked that Jim James and company had come to grace their presence with their rare, intellectual, and fantastic style of rock. The band kicked it off slow with tracks like “Tonite I Want to Celebrate with You” and “Gideon”. As the band jammed, escalated, rocked, and shocked, it really struck me that they truly work to perfection as a complete unit. If one member were to be replaced, the whole show would be at a loss. It’s the chemistry they share that speaks volumes. That… and their donkey, which happened to make an appearance at Sasquatch, too.

Eventually, the band busted out a chilling and hypnotic version of “Touch Me, I’m Going to Scream (Part 1)” and churned out a triumphant version of “I’m Amazed”, which sequed into a jet-fueled speedball rendition of “Highly Suspicious”, which fueled the crowd into a furious mosh. Towards the end, they brought it all back full circle as they lurched on with “Touch Me, I’m Going to Scream (Part 2)”.

Throughout the set, the band played a number of older tunes, too. “Golden”, “Off the Record”, “Steam Engine”, and “Anytime” were all showcased and all well-received. But, nothing came close to their powerful performance of “Wordless Chorus”, which saw the crowd uniting together under rain and through harmonies and reverb. But it wouldn’t stop there, either. Before they left, the group carved out a magnificent, 10 minute cut of “One Big Holiday”, which pumped out enough octane to tear apart the crowd. These guys may not be a jam band, but they sure do fucking jam. -Ted Maider

Wolfmother
Sutro, 6:30 p.m.

The biggest surprise at Outside Lands goes to Wolfmother, hands down. I attended mainly because my brother is a big fan and he dragged me along. However, thank goodness he did. It was the best decision I was forced into making all weekend. Little did I know this would be one of the most unexpectedly awesome sets of the festival. The only person who had more fun than the crowd at Wolfmother was frontman Andrew Stockdale. And why shouldn’t he have a bit of fun? With lineup changes galore since 2005, he deserves to smile. Despite the group’s latest effort, Cosmic Egg, they stuck to mostly material off their self-titled album. Climax? When the band busted into “White Unicorn”, transitioning midway through into a very fitting version of The Doors’ “Riders on the Storm”, only to transition back into the end of “White Unicorn”. Like I said, unexpectedly awesome. -Winston Robbins

Cat Power
Twin Peaks, 7:05 p.m.

I’ve never seen Cat Power before, so I won’t be too hasty in my judgment. But is she always so boring? Julian Casablancas nonchalance is one thing, but seeming utterly bored is something different entirely. Maybe it’s just her steaz, but she looked like she just rolled out of bed for this show. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and frumpily dressed in a hoodie and jeans, she spent most of the set with her hands in her pockets. There was a portion of her show where she got down off the stage and into the photo pit to sing two songs, which I’m sure was awesome for all 53 people who could still see her, but eventually the rest of us just forgot she was there. It’s not like her being onstage was that much more exciting. But enough about stage presence. Musically, Chan Marshall couldn’t have been more spot on. “Sea of Love”, “The Greatest”, and “Metal Heart” were all pitch perfect. Every note hit, every inflection impeccable. I just wish she would have been a little more excited about her own talent. -Winston Robbins

Furthur ft. Phil Lesh and Bob Weir
Lands End, 7:25 p.m.

“They really did take it one step further…” –Dead-Head in Sculpture Garden after the show.

I have to start by admitting this straight up; I am not the biggest Dead-Head in the world. This has always been the biggest problem amongst my friends and I. Granted, I enjoy some of their songs quite thoroughly (how could you not), but I have never been one of those kids who goes through phases and phases of nothing but obscure Dead sets. But this entire set-up seemed like something I would totally be all about. For one, you have Phil Lesh and Bob Weir back together on-stage. Secondly, you have John Kadlecik of the Dark Star Orchestra, stepping in Jerry Garcia’s shoes, which he seems to have already done for a portion of his career. Take notice of the setting, though. It was the climax of Jerry month in the Bay, and the band was in Golden Gate Park, the place that pretty much spawned them.

Needless to say, all the tell-tale signs of a Dead-Show were there. All day, my buddy kept saying, “In San Francisco, Dead-Heads just seem to grow up from the ground.” Sure enough, this is what happened. Just prior to Furthur’s show, I watched the kid behind me drop a tab of acid into his friend’s mouth as a surprise. There were more Stealies than I could ever fathom in one place. And people had managed to sneak in recording gear to obtain what they would believe to be a priceless piece of live memorabilia. Well, this night, they were right.

The band was no longer slow, dreary, and too-hypnotic. They were back to the old Dead-style, quicker and extensive jams that kept the pace up. Opening with songs like “Cassidy” and “The Loser” got people on their feet, and scribbling song titles on their notepads all around me. The band launched into a rendition of “Let it Grow”, which they wove into a cover of Pink Floyd’s “Time”. People were hip to the cover, considering cheers emanated throughout once those all-too-familiar sound of clocks chimed in.

But the band also launched into a number of Dead staples that belonged in Golden Gate Park. Extended jams on “Fire on the Mountain” and “Terrapin Suite” caused people to astro-project themselves back to the ’70s. To close off the single set, the band started up “Morning Dew” which spiraled into “I Know You Rider”, leaving all the Dead-Heads, who’d coughed up the 70 bucks to get in, very, very pleased.

When I was younger, I saw Ratdog and all the offshoots, but this to me was something far greater than a Grateful Dead recreation. This wasn’t a reincarnation; this was the future of the enterprise that is the Grateful Dead. Even I’ll admit it; they have had one of the best careers in history that any band could possibly ask for. Their material still impacts kids today as it did 50 years ago. So, the bottom line? I may not be a Dead-Head, but I can see that they have done a lot in their time, and they will continue to bedazzle their cult as time goes on. As I wandered off into the night, I heard techno drums going, infused the Furthur’s jamming, which somehow seemed to work in this modern age. Who knows what the future of music will bring? -Ted Maider

The Strokes
Twin Peaks, 8:45 p.m.

Let’s begin here: Why was Furthur headlining this festival? Look, we all know that Bob Weir and Phil Lesh are local Haight-Ashbury legends and were once a part of one of the most influential jam bands in the history of Rock and Roll, but does that really warrant a headlining slot? Seems like an irrelevant stretch to me. The tickets for day one sold, but they certainly didn’t sell out. The Deadheads are slowly dying off. The Strokes should have headlined. But that’s an argument for another time. It was funny, however, what a tangible barrier Furthur versus The Strokes created. In the impeccable words of Philip Cosores, everyone 30 and under was at one side of the park watching The Strokes, while everyone else was re-living their Dead days across the park.

At any rate, Julian Casablancas and company returned to performing on American soil once more after their Lollapalooza appearance, and I can only imagine that the shows were incredibly similar. I say that because tit for tat, the setlists were exactly the same, except Lolla got one more song that Outside Lands did. It was an unbelievable set in every way, musically, visually, you name it. But they were obviously missing one thing: chemistry. It was sad further proof that The Strokes might be on their way out.

However, it was fantastic to hear the songs that got me through the hard knock life of Middle School. They played mainly old favorites such as “Someday”, “Last Night”,  “Reptilia”, and “Hard To Explain” interspersed with only a couple First Impressions of Earth cuts. In between each song, they seemed to stall and talk amongst themselves about what they were doing, which showed a lack of preparation, perpetuating the rumors that they’re imploding. On a lighter note, though, Casablancas will never stop being one of the greatest frontmen of our time. He kept crowd interaction at a maximum and all night he made jokes and basically said whatever the hell came to his mind. It was an endearing, nostalgic run down memory lane that was ultimately enjoyable, but painful in that these are very much so not The Strokes I saw back in ’06. -Winston Robbins
——

Gallery by Philip Cosores

[nggallery id=100]

Sunday, August 15th

Amos Lee
Lands End, 12:45 p.m.

The Philadelphia singer/songwriter had the misfortune of playing to a tired crowd in the early afternoon, but made the most out of it. Amos Lee has the kind of voice the can sooth both the weary soul and the weary bones, managing to bring the crowd both to lie for the moment and awaken them at to the fun that laid on the horizon. Lee sings with conviction, and for a writer who had never heard him before and feels a slight bit of shame admitting that he enjoyed the set, it was a pleasant surprise to start a day.  -Philip Cosores

Mayer Hawthorne and The County
Sutro, 1:30 p.m.

If this day was about voices, Mayer Hawthorne was up to the challenge laid down by Amos Lee. Luckily for Hawthorne, where his voice lacks the immediacy of Lee’s, he has Mayer-ettes to provide the eye candy that the singer may lack himself. Sure Hawthorne may seem like a nerd, but he has soul and can get a giant crowd behind him. And somehow most of the crowd knew all the words (maybe this guy is huge) but even those that didn’t seemed to have a blast. Hawthorne may have made the most new fans of anyone at the festival. -Philip Cosores

The Temper Trap
Lands End, 2:15 p.m.

Well, I guess I just don’t get the appeal here. But people were sure excited to see The Temper Trap, to see their weird looking singer, to hear their harmless songs, even a new one that appeared three songs in and went absolutely nowhere. In hindsight, they are known for a song that came out last year with 500 Days of Summer, and oddly enough, it’s not really catchy whatsoever. <Shrug> -Philip Cosores

Janelle Monáe
Sutro, 3:05 p.m.

Most deserved Best New Music handed out by the almighty P4K should go to Janelle Monáe. Not only was her ArchAndroid fantastic from beginning to end, but she is quite the musician/dancer/fashionista. Playing mainly tracks from her most recent album, the crowd seemed to show particular interest in “Cold War” and “Tightrope”, and rightly so, as they were both spot on in every way (except Big Boi didn’t show up for his verse on the latter). Personally, I was quite moved by the stop-free four song medley which contained “Suite II Overture”, “Dance or Die”, “Faster”, and “Locked Inside” in one fell swoop. Impressive. Furthermore, her style is something that is to be simultaneously marveled and envied. Monáe is so much cooler than any of us will ever be, but we should love her for it, not be jealous. Some people were born to front bands (and Janelle is without question the best frontwoman I have seen in recent years), and others were born to write for/read music blogs. To each his own. -Winston Robbins

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
Twin Peaks, 3:40 p.m.

“This is a fucking miracle!” –Edward Sharpe (Alex Ebert)

I made it to the front of the crowd by the skin of my teeth, but goddammit, I made it. And thank the lord I did. Four months ago, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros were just some band that seemed to be playing every festival I wanted to go to. Now, they’re a crucial portion of my 2010 soundtrack, with a record that continues to sell and a fan base that continues to grow. Hey, you can only appear in so many car commercials before everybody understands your band rules that much.

The 10-piece band wasted no time kicking things up, opening with “40 Day Dream”, one of the stand-out and triumphant tracks from their debut record. The crowd went nuts at the opening drum beats, and then began to sway majestically while singing all the words. Luckily for them, the band played the majority of their album, Up From Below, and in order. Following the opener, they launched right into the happy-go-lucky tune of “Janglin’” and then continued with the album’s titular track.

The Magnetic Zeros did some great renditions of “Desert Song” and even let Jade Castrinos take over on lead vocals for awhile. The real gem though, of course, was “Home”, which the crowd screamed for the entire time. When the hot single finally did come on, everybody leapt up and down in a united frenzy, which seemed warranted for the song’s enthusiastic beat. During the breakdown, though, Alex Ebert and Castrinos discussed the first time they came to San Francisco, and what they did, but most all Castrinos wished the sun would shine. We were all right there with her, but it didn’t matter, because everybody was just elated to be in the presence of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, a band who will clearly be remembered when 2010 music is discussed for years to come. -Ted Maider

Al Green
Lands End, 4:00 p.m.

After Furthur took us back to the 60’s, somebody had to represent the 70’s, and no man was better for the job than Al Green. At 64, our beloved soul singer took the stage to a massive, loving crowd to give them a taste of his era. Not only did he come out belting his own barn burners “Tired of Being Alone” and “Let’s Stay Together”, but he did a tribute to all his contemporaries. He covered The Four Tops’ “I Can’t Help Myself”, The Temptations’ “My Girl”, and Otis Redding (whom he referred to as ‘Big O’)’s “Sitting On the Dock of the Bay”. At the end of the set, the soul mastermind was all smiles, as was the crowd. -Winston Robbins

Slightly Stoopid
Sutro, 5:00 p.m.

How many Slightly Stoopid shows do I normally hear about within a summer? Way too many is an accurate answer. Slightly Stoopid has been able to strike a chord with the cannabis culture, and in California, that’s about ¾ of the population. Basically, these guys picked up right where Sublime left off, and now their brand of reggae-rap-rock has begun to get extremely popular. Throughout the entire show, a cloud of smoke loomed over the crowd, while the band played their cheery reggae tunes. However, they were not afraid to bust out the punk rock when things got a little too mellow. This has always been one of the band’s more positive traits; that they appreciate their punk roots. Not to mention, they covered Ol’ Dirty Bastard, while the crowd held W’s in the air with their hands. After enough Slightly Stoopid, I began to feel slightly stupid due to how spaced out I was, so it was time to vacate the smog and see some other aspect of our culture. -Ted Maider

Chromeo
Twin Peaks, 5:15 p.m.

As soon as the sexy leg keyboard stands were unveiled, the cheers began to roar: Chromeo was on their way. Taking the stage to their signature Fancy Footwork intro, the crowd went berserk. It was a very distinct crowd too, filled with college frat boys, but that didn’t take away from the show in the slightest. Dave 1 and P-Thugg know how to work any audience. By the first song, they had us in the palm of their hands and we loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, they didn’t play anything from their forthcoming album (due out in September),  but maybe that was for the best because hearing their old songs just got me super pumped to hear the new record. The kids went nuts for Chromeo classsics “Tenderoni” “Bona Fide Lovin’”, and “Needy Girl”, and they had every right to. Chromeo knows how to write quirky electro love songs like no one else. -Winston Robbins

Phoenix
Lands End, 5:55 p.m.

Holy… shit… dude. Phoenix has become somewhat of a cultural icon. Singer Thomas Mars has begun to acknowledge this, as he embodied what is true rock star persona while running around the stage with his bright red microphone chord. The rest of the band kept it going too, as their drummer pounded on each head mercilessly to keep the beats of all their high-energy songs going. This was easily one of the best shows of the weekend, and it’s so easy to see why the French five-some were given a sub-headlining spot.

The band kicked it off with “Lisztomania” and the crowd wasted no time diving into the grooves. But neither did the band. While they tore through the majority of their opus, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, playing songs like “Lasso”, “Fences”, and a thrashing “Armistice”, they were not conservative about pulling out past numbers. Tracks like “Run Run Run”, “Consolation Prizes”, and “Long Distance Call” resonated well with those watching, even though they didn’t necessarily sing along.

But the band kept everything interesting. Mars climbed up the amps, over the audience, and across the stage, all while his band kept mixing up instruments, bashing their equipment, and rocking their hardest. It was all straight up amazing and with so much energy.  As they’ve done for the past year now, the band closed things off with a nearly 10-minute rendition of “1901”. It didn’t drag, but at one moment I felt they were playing a different song altogether. As the band’s set came to a close, all the clouds parted for the day, and the sun finally came out. It felt good to feel the warmth again, but it wasn’t the miracle we needed. The miracle we needed was another four songs from Phoenix. -Ted Maider

Nas & Damian Marley
Twin Peaks, 6:50 p.m.

I’ve always been intrigued by Damian Marley & Nas‘ collaboration. I respect both artists  in their respective genres quite a bit, and their duet on “Road to Zion” (off Marley’s 2005 album Welcome to JamRock) was fantastic. But a whole album? It seemed a stretch. I was wrong in thinking that. The second I heard the album, it all began to make sense. It was like I finally go the joke that had been eluding me for weeks. They’re obviously distant relatives due to their African-American complexion, but musically they’re distant relatives as well. Hip hop draws so much from reggae, and contemporary reggae is constantly borrowing from hip hop. And these two make for quite a pair. Two of the most talented in their respective genres, it only makes sense that they are incredible together.

At the Twin Peaks stage, the two played mainly tracks from their latest effort, Distant Relatives. They came out with barn burner “As We Enter” and hit us with a couple of curveballs just before exiting the stage. First, Marley (and his floor length dreads) pulled out his mega-hit “Welcome To Jamrock” out and got the entire place thrashing. Then, Nas and Marley both went back to play their JamRock collaboration “Road to Zion”. They closed the set off with a cover of Marley’s father’s classic hit, “Could You Be Loved”, which of course won the crowd over and had us all singing in unison like a bunch of drunk Irish soccer fans. Lesson learned? Damian Marley and Nas are a perfect combination. -Winston Robbins

Social Distortion
Sutro, 6:55 p.m.

True story: The last time I had seen Social Distortion, I stopped drinking for three years. Since then, I have not listened to the band nor paid any attention to where they are in their career. But, everything ends and so did my boycott of Social D on this Sunday afternoon.

The sun was finally out and the Orange County natives seemed no different that the tough thugs that drove me into a drunken frenzy of terror so many years back. Now that I can actually recall experiencing them, I was impressed by the level of professionalism they showed in their set. They covered all the bases of their long career, with Ness still as menacing as before. “Bad Luck”, “Don’t Drag Me Down” and “Mommy’s Little Monster” kicked things off, but as the set rolled on song’s like “Ball and Chain”, “Prision Bound”, and “Story of My Life” made their way into the set.

Even though their set has probably been similar for 20 years, the band never looks bored or withdrawn. In fact, Ness seems like he wants to relate to the fans just as bad as the young man who wrote these songs. In closing with “Ring Of Fire”, you can’t help but think that Ness has written some songs as timeless as Johnny Cash. It’s a weird thought, but remarkably, it’s true. -Philip Cosores

Kings of Leon
Lands End, 7:50 p.m.

When did the Kings of Leon become this big-time, American headlining band? I think I missed this part in recent pop culture, because I still find the Kings of Leon to be a good band, but not a spectacle worth headlining some of the biggest festivals in America. The thing is though, most people like the Kings of Leon, so they are able to draw a crowd. Kings of Leon just embodies that simple, classic, and timeless American sound, and they actually do a decent job of it.

The Oklahoma quartet of brothers looked like classic American figures as they rocked their finest in front of tens of thousands of people. Jared Followill was dressed up like James Dean, while Caleb Followill kept up his gritty and down-to-Earth persona. The band kicked things off with the ultimate creeper-track, “Closer”, which sent chills down my spine as I watched them grace the monitors in a black and white color scheme. One could feel the ground vibrating as they got closer to the stage and as the sun sank over Golden Gate Park to the Kings of Leon’s gritty, welcomin,g and rocking tunes.

The band also played their hit songs like “Sex on Fire”, “The Bucket”, and “Use Somebody”, while also covering the Pixies’ “Where is My Mind?”, which all seemed to keep the crowd genuinely pleased. The main stage was packed as far as one could see, so this was clearly a hot ticket for the last night of the festival. At the start, Caleb asked, “Mind if I have a drink?” and then toasted to the wonderful city of San Francisco. Clearly, the guy was the right man to finish off the show. As the band drew to a close, fireworks lit up the sky behind them and filled the polo fields with smoke. One had to ask, though… where was the crowd’s groove? -Ted Maider

Empire of the Sun
Twin Peaks, 8:25 p.m.

If you don’t listen to Empire of the Sun now, you will soon enough. The Australian electronic space bots from beyond will invade your stereo much like they invaded my brain Sunday night. For one, no band nowadays has a visual show like they do. It’s hard to explain (or do it justice), but the show involves spacey videos, frantic lighting, synchronized dancers in weird costumes holding even weirder props, and lots and lots of techno-future rock. Let’s just say that at one point I wondered if I was watching humans. Actually, looking back at the hour that was Empire of the Sun, I’m still trying to figure out what I saw.

Singer and proverbial captain of the group’s spaceship Luke Steele stood in what looked like a docking station in the center of the stage, surrounded by synthesizers, guitars, and microphones. You’d think this would be all overwhelming, and it probably would to an average musician, but Steele traded off instruments with no problem, and at times, he even managed to play several at once. Opening with the gem “Standing on the Shore”, the crowd found a perfect outlet to a.) find their groove and b.) trip the fuck out.

Basically, the band played their entire debut record, Walking on a Dream, but in an order that was more like a journey than an actual album. The group jammed on songs like “Swordfish Hotkiss Night”, keeping the drums loud, wild, and futuristic by mixing up all sorts of instrumentation from the great beyond. Other tracks like “Delta Bay”, “Half Mast”, and “We Are the People” were all accompanied by a light and video show that would make any performer rethink the entire visual aspect of their show. Think Bowie, but on a rare combination of steroids, coke, and MDMA. To close off the amazing spectacle, the band thrashed out its single, “Walking on a Dream”, as the ecstasy-starched crowd went nuts to finish off a night they didn’t want to end. -Ted Maider
——

Gallery by Philip Cosores

[nggallery id=101]

I love going to music festivals and seeing live music, but to be honest I wasn’t initially sure how excited I was to attend HulabaLOU. I enjoy several of the bands on the lineup, but hate equally as many of them. I didn’t know if the vibe and crowd would be welcoming, laid back, and music loving or a bro and cougar fest looking for an excuse to drink in public. While doing some prep work before the festival (you know, like a real reporter) I read someone jokingly ask, “Who will be playing all of the state fairs this weekend?!” True, at first glance, the lineup looks pretty strange. It’s filled with as many state fair acts as truly legendary, as much classic rock as bluegrass, and a mixture of local bands none of us has ever heard of and indie acts that no locals have ever heard of, as well.

But after fighting the record high temperatures and a few cougars, here’s how it went…

Friday, July 23

Chrisette Michele

Around 4:00 p.m., Chrisette Michele strolled on stage wearing a black dress with white polka dots, circa Billie Holiday, boldly adding frosted blonde hair and blue eye shadow. “What’s up Louisville,” she yelled out. “I know there are only 10 of y’all, but what’s up?” Most of the sparse crowd looked like they were just there to get a good seat for the Gladys Knight and the O’Jays, but there were a few hardcore fans up front.

I only knew Michele’s name from being featured on rap songs by artists like Jay-Z, Nas, and The Roots.  But I learned that she’s got a lot more to offer than a catchy chorus. Michele’s got a powerful voice and was funny and engaging throughout her set. She opened with “Epiphany”, the titular track off latest effort and an empowering song about getting out of a bad relationship (“I’m just about over being your girlfriend. I’m leaving.”).  She showed off her impressive vocal range and powerful pipes during every song, taking time to do vocal solos, using it like an instrument.

“How many of y’all are in love,” she continued to engage the crowd, to which seven people raised their hands. “Only seven of y’all? It must be part of the recession.”

Setlist: Epiphany, What You Do, All I Ever Think About, I’m Okay, Porcelain Doll, Golden, If I Have My Way, Blame It on Me, Fragile

The B 52s

“We have some special guests with us here today,” frontman Fred Schneider screamed. “Us!”

Even though I don’t know a ton of their songs, I was still excited to see The B 52s. I like to see classic songs performed, and they had enough of them to get me excited. It’s an added bonus when you retain all of your original members (save for guitarist and founding member Ricky Wilson who passed away in 1985). They started the show with two of their more familiar songs, “Private Idaho” and “Mesopotamia”.

On stage, the B-52s look like they’re in some kind of improv play, running around as if they’re inventing dance moves, while oozing with charisma and confidence. There must not be a lot of money in the wardrobe budget as they’re all still wearing the same outfits from 30 years ago. Maybe that’s the charm, though.

For Kentucky, they blended newer songs like “Funplex” with an oldie like “Roam”, ultimately ending the show with the very expected “Love Shack” but returning for the unexpected encore of the very awesome “Rock Lobster”.

Setlist: Private Idaho, Mesopotamia, Give Me Back My Man, Funplex, Roam, Party Out of Bounds, Love in the Year 3000, Cosmic Thing, Hot Corner, Wig, Love Shack, Rock Lobster

Train

After The B52s, I decided to catch the end of Train’s set. I’m not a fan, but I have to admit their singles can be catchy.  I got there in time to see “Hey Soul Sister” and “Drops of Jupiter”, which basically runs the gamut of their back catalog’s success. In hindsight, there was nothing really special about their performances, just live versions of their studio work. But it seems like the band’s recent fame and success has given lead singer Pat Monahan a natural smile and a lot more confidence and charisma – at least if we’re to base it off the last time I saw them, which was about 10 years ago.

Doobie Brothers

“I was half-baked. Smokin’ doobies. Doobie brothers, I was smokin’ doobies with my brothers. Peace out, Seacrest!” -Michael Scott, The Office.

The Doobie Brothers played the same stage as the B-52s before them, but the crowd actually seemed to get a lot younger, filling up with 20-somethings like myself who grew up on classic rock. Never having seen the Doobie Brothers before, I didn’t know whether to expect a good show or a sad depressing reminder of why it might be better to burn out than to fade away.

First of all, the Doobie Brothers look exactly like what you’d think a “Doobie Brother” would look like.  And since they have always had a high turnover rate for band members, seeing the original lineup is somewhat of a relative thing. Even so, this incarnation boasts half of the original lineup, so it’s no Lynyrd Skynyrd situation.

The Doobies performed mainly classic songs, starting off with sing-alongs “Take Me in Your Arms” and “Jesus is Just Alright”.  They worked the crowd into enough of a frenzy to eventually introduce some new songs from an upcoming album. I was surprised to see an older guy singing every word of one of the new songs, proving that that generation might watch live concert videos on YouTube as much as we do. (Maybe more if they’re reliving the glory days!)

Anticipation built enough until they finally teased us with the first few chords of “Blackwater.” Everyone perked up and sang along. Coupled with the encore of “China Grove” and “Listen to the Music”, I was reminded of summers full of classic rock radio. The Doobie Brothers look a little aged, but their music and delivery still sound fresh.

Setlist: Take Me in Your Arms, Jesus is Just Alright, Dangerous, Rockin’ Down the Highway, Clear as the Driven Snow, Nobody, World Gone Crazy, Back To The Chateau, Takin’ It To The Streets, Don’t Start Me to Talkin’, Little Bitty Pretty One, Blackwater, Long Train Runnin’, China Grove, Without You, Listen To the Music

Bon Jovi

Bon Jovi was the night’s headliner, and if t-shirts were any indication of excitement, the crowd was ready to party like it was 1988. (Bon Jovi fans must not be familiar with the “Don’t wear the t-shirt of the band you’re going to see” rule.)  Jon Bon Jovi came out wearing a sleeveless leather vest showing off a Superman tattoo on his left bicep. I was shocked.

While not Bon Jovi’s biggest fan, I’ve got to admit that they play to their audience with the best of them. Calls to the crowd for more energy were met with deafening screams from both men and women of all ages.  I actually forgot that I didn’t like Bon Jovi while I was singing along to “It’s My Life”.

Their set was 19 songs long, which included 18 singles. The only song that wasn’t a single was “We Got It Going On” off of 2007’s Lost Highway. Maybe a deeper cut for the real fans? They delivered.

Setlist: Lost Highway, We Weren’t Born to Follow, You Give Love a Bad Name, Born to Be My Baby, Superman Tonight, It’s My Life, I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead, We Got It Goin’ On, Someday I’ll Be Saturday Night, Bad Medicine/Oh, Pretty Woman (Roy Orbison cover)/Shout! (Isley Brothers cover) Bad Medicine, Lay Your Hands on Me (Richie Sambora on lead vocals), (You Want to) Make a Memory, I’ll Be There For You, Runaway, Have a Nice Day, Who Says You Can’t Go Home, Keep the Faith, Wanted Dead or Alive [feat. Dierks Bentley], Livin’ on a Prayer

Saturday, July 24

Kim Taylor

Cincinnati’s Kim Taylor was one of Saturday’s first acts. I hadn’t planned to show up until Ben Sollee but I heard one of her songs on Pandora a few days before and changed my mind. She came out barefoot, wearing an ankle-length, navy blue summer dress. She has a powerful voice that hauntingly echoed as it went through the mostly empty Churchill Downs. Of no fault of her own the lack of an audience made it feel like she’s probably more suited for the Bluebird Cafe than for a music festival like HullabaLOU.

Ben Sollee

After reading reviews of Ben Sollee’s newest album, released on Sub Pop with Daniel Martin Moore, I was excited to check him out. HullabaLOU was a one-off show, a break from his current tour with Moore and My Morning Jacket’s Jim James to raise awareness about mountain top removal.

I really enjoyed Sollee’s set. His voice sounds like a mixture of Amos Lee and Paolo Nutini, mixed with some beautiful cello music. I didn’t know many of the songs but I enjoyed focusing on the sounds that he was bringing out of the cello. And there were honestly a dozen fans in front of me that knew every word to every song, which always makes a show more fun. I loved the line from his song “It’s Not Impossible”: “And I must admit/All jokes aside/I find some men beautiful/Some girls handsome, and some children wise/And I hope some day/Before I die/I can share the kiss/That brings tears to my eyes.”

Sollee’s from down the road in Lexington and was excited to be playing a festival in his home state.  “Take care of this festival,” Solle said.  “Hopefully we can grow it.”

War

Bandleader Lonnie Jordan is the only original member still left in War, so this show’s lineup was mostly like a “review” of the original, and I mostly expected to be underwhelmed. But they sounded awesome.  These days, War sounds like a jam band, and maybe they always were, even before we really coined the term. Even when there were some sound problems and Jordan’s keyboard had to be worked on, the band ignored the sound guy and just kept jamming. The youngest member of the band, bass player Francisco “Pancho” Tomaselli, really stood out and was featured on a lot of the songs.

Hearing “Low Rider” and “Why Can’t We Be Friends” (“The best part of Lethal Weapon 4 was hearing this song in the credits” according to the friend who came with me) was cool, and both renditions sounded better than I expected. I made it through seven songs before I left to hear Ben Folds.

Setlist: Cisco Kid, Me An Baby Brother, Slippin’ Into Darkness, Galaxy War, Summer, Why Can’t We Be Friends, Low Rider, and more

Ben Folds

I’ve seen Ben Folds about five times or I would have been there for his entire set. He’s incredibly talented, plays several instruments, and is funny and engaging enough to keep an audience’s attention even when he’s on stage by himself. I got there in time to join in on a raucous sing-along of “Army” and the rest played out just as well.

Joan Osborne

Joan Osborne is originally from Louisville, KY and had a large crowd at her show.  She started the show with a tribute to her second home New York with the song, “Bury Me on the Battery”.

There were several Grateful Dead shirts in the crowd, people excited to see her for her past work with the band, and probably hoping she’d cover some Dead songs.  They didn’t have to wait long, getting a cover of “Brokedown Palace” as the third song of the seat.  During “Help Me” Osborne sauntered around stage singing “I don’t feel like sleeping, I just fell like lying down.”  She must have been pretty jazzed because she even picked up an electric guitar and played on “Ladder.”  The set finished with songs like her singles “St. Teresa” and “One of Us”.

Setlist: Bury Me on the Battery, Pretty Little Stranger, Brokedown Palace (Grateful Dead cover), Help Me, St. Teresa, Ladder, What Becomes of the Brokenhearted, One of Us, Only You Know and I Know.

Al Green

Al Green was one of the most anticipated sets of the weekend for me. Even though he’s been performing in a red and black tux, throwing out roses, and fronting a 14 piece band for years it still works.

He mixed his own classics like “Let’s Get Married” and “Let’s Stay Together” with contemporary hits like “”I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)”, “Bring It On Home to Me”, “My Girl”, and “Dock of the Bay”. I was surprised to see the “Reverend” cursing at a sound guy during his rendition of “Amazing Grace”. Apparently he didn’t find the grace to be too amazing.

The main thing I took away from the show was how strong Green’s voice still is, and how much people love him.

Govt’ Mule

I was able to see about half of Gov’t Mule’s show. Even though we were battling record high temperatures all weekend a strong breeze started blowing as I reached the shade of their stage, making it one of the most enjoyable atmospheres of the day. Lots of Grateful Dead and Allman Brothers shirts were scattered throughout the crowd and joined each other singing Soulshine. The crowd liked ending with Soulshine, but seemed like they wanted something with bigger bang to go out on.

Setlist: Railroad Boy, Gameface > Banks of The Deep End, Steppin’ Lightly, Broke Down On The Brazos, Beautifully Broken, I’m A Ram, Mule > Soulshine

Kenny Chesney

Kenny Chesney showed up, played his songs (the ones on the radio and some other ones), and left.

I’ve never seen so many people singing every word, going crazy over something that I didn’t get.  But then I realized, Kenny Chesney is a genius.  He speaks to a neglected demographic.  I know people that spend every vacation at the beach every year, and have since they were kids.  I know people that have abandoned Sunday school but still somehow feel connected to it.  I know people that live for happy hour and a good time.  Kenny Chesney speaks to them.  He’s taken what Jimmy Buffett started, updated it, and added an American flag.  I don’t like it, but now I get it.

He did actually cover “The Joker”, “Three Little Birds” (he has a member of the Wailers in his band), and “Gimme Three Steps” which I enjoyed.

Setlist: Beer In Mexico, Keg In The Closet, Big Star, Summertime, Ain’t Back Yet, Out Last Night, No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems, Don’t Blink, I Go Back, Anything But Mine, Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven, Back Where I Come From, The Woman with You, There Goes My Life, Living In Fast Forward, Young, The Joker/Three Little Birds/Gimme Three Steps (with Jason Aldean), Never Wanted Nothing More, When The Sun Goes Down, Don’t Happen Twice, How Forever Feels, She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy

Sunday, July 25

The Avett Brothers

HullabaLOU lets you get a good place for the secondary stage acts, but unless you have reserved seats in the first section, the main stage view is awful. It’s a good side stage venue, but not a good main stage venue. The Avett Brothers were a victim of the main stage. It was ironic to see the band so far away from the fans it usually connects so closely with. There were about 100 people, maybe, in the first two reserved sections. There were a couple of small pockets of fans that knew all of their songs, but most of the seats were empty. I assume their ticket holders were resting up for Zac Brown and Dave Matthews. They’ve gotten a new drummer since their Bonnaroo show, drummer Jacob Edwards who used to play with Samantha Crain.

Half of their songs were from the new album, but it seemed like those were the most familiar to the crowd. Older songs like “I Killed Sally’s Lover” and “Swept Away” really helped the energy, and it was exciting to hear new song, “Down With the Shine”. The open spaces and sparse crowd might have hurt them, but the Avetts still put on an energy packed show. I don’t think they know how to put on a bad show.

Setlist: Tin Man, January Wedding, I Killed Sally’s Lover, Kick Drum Heart, Signs, The Fall, Pretty Girl from Cedar Lane, I and Love and You, Down With the Shine, Swept Away, Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise, Go to Sleep, Laundry Room

Loretta Lynn

I arrived to Loretta Lynn just in time to see “You Ain’t Woman Enough to Take My Man”.  If newer country gals like Carrie Underwood would key a cheater’s car and Taylor Swift would tell somebody they’re gay, Loretta’s brand of country would threaten to kill them, and so convincingly that you’re sure she means it. Just like with most of the other performers this weekend, I was surprised at how strong Loretta’s voice still was. Between songs she rambled on like my grandmother, but I found it warm and enduring, not annoying.

Steve Miller Band

The Steve Miller Band was my most anticipated set of the weekend. Growing up on classic rock, their greatest hits CD was always on heavy rotation for me. There must have been a lot of other people that felt the same way, because this was the biggest non-headliner crowd I saw all weekend. As soon as the first notes of “Jet Airliner” were played, the large crowd started singing and dancing, and never really stopped. However, you could tell that almost no one has kept tabs on the band, as newer material like “Hey Yeah” and “Further on Up the Road” went over everyone’s heads. (They must have missed our review of new album, Bingo.) But that’s to be expected with a “classic rock” act.

Steve Miller came out by himself and played an acoustic version of “Wild Mountain Honey”, which sounded beautiful and haunting echoing through Churchill Downs. One thing that really impressed me was how Miller’s such an underrated guitarist. After seeing him live, I’m convinced he deserves more consideration, both in composition and performance.

The show ended on eight straight singles, starting with “Dance, Dance” Dance”, “The Joker”, and “Abracadabra”.  For the song “Living in the U.S.A.”, Miller told the crowd, “I wrote this song for some people gathering in Chicago outside of the Democratic National Convention in the 60’s. Everybody was paying attention back then. Nobody is paying attention now. I challenge you to question your government and pay attention.”

The set closed with “Fly Like an Eagle” and “Rock’n Me”, which featured a boy named Dillon Brown on guitar. Brown is a student at Kids Rock Free, a School of Rock-type school that Miller helps fund and oversee.

I was once again surprised by how clear and strong Steve’s voice and guitar playing was after all these years.  The show lived up to the hype for me, and I was glad to get more than just a note-for-note rendition of the greatest hits.

Set list: Jet Airliner, Take the Money and Run, Mercury Blues, Hey Yeah, Further on Up the Road, Ooh Poo Pah Doo, I Can’t Be Satisfied (Muddy Waters cover), Shu Ba Da Du Ma Ma Ma Ma, Wild Mountain Honey, Dance Dance Dance, The Joker, Abracadabra, Serenade, The Stake, Living in the U.S.A., Fly Like an Eagle, Rock’n Me

Rhonda Vincent

The Bluegrass Stage where Rhonda Vincent played was the strangest stage at HullabaLOU. It was practically in a big open hallway between the entrance and the other stages. The area in front of the stage was so small that almost no one stood in it the entire weekend, choosing rather to sit on benches or tables elevated away from the stage about 30 yards back. So anyone who decided to dance or watch up close was almost part of the show to the audience.

She was billed as just Rhonda Vincent, but she was also joined by her band the Rage. Since she stopped after the Steve Miller Band, I was able to catch the last part of her show. With her popularity and the aged-to-perfection sound of her old timey blue grass, I was expecting to see a much older woman, but surprised to find a younger looking 48-year-old. Even playing to a smaller crowd she seemed to have a good time, and sounded great.

Dave Matthews Band

I’m doing this review through the eyes of someone that used to be a big Dave Matthews Band fan. I saw a dozen shows in the late 90’s, but gave them up cold turkey and haven’t been to see them in about five years. So if you’re in the same boat as me, I’ll give you an update as to what’s changed.

Matthews started the show with the first single off their latest effort, Big Whiskey & The Groogrux King, “Funny the Way It Is”.  It took five songs before we heard a song from one of the classic DMB albums, and that song would be “Crush”.  Before all of their recent material, Matthews would tell people the name of the song, which is something that never used to happen. I don’t know if it’s due to the fact that he talks more between songs (don’t worry, he still mumbles unintelligibly too), or if it’s out of necessity because older fans wouldn’t know the new songs without an introduction.

The death of founding member and saxophonist LeRoi Moore has taken an element from their live shows that can never be completely replaced. I personally loved what he added to their songs, both in the writing process and in live performances. But the addition of saxophonist Jeff Coffin, trumpet player Rashawn Ross, and guitarist Tim Reynolds does what it can to make up for Moore’s musical absence, and has added a new depth to their live sound.

Some of the highlights of the show included a great version of “#41”, a full band version of “Gravedigger”, and “Lie in Our Graves”. Zac Brown joined in for covers of Willie Nelson’s “Funny How Time Slips Away” and Bob Dylan’s “All Along the Watchtower”.

The show ended with an acoustic version of “Some Devil” and the typical version of “Ants Marching”, with a little different drum intro to try and throw people off.

All in all it was a solid show. I can see why people are still drawn to it, and I remember why it was a gateway to other things for me, and why it’s something that I’m no longer really into. I’m sure they will continue to headline festivals, but at this point I’m not sure I’ll find myself in the crowd.

Setlist: Funny The Way It Is, You Might Die Trying, Stay or Leave, Seven, Crush, Don’t Drink the Water, Why I Am, Spaceman, Corn Bread, #41, Gravedigger, Lie In Our Graves, You and Me, Shake Me Like a Monkey, Aint It Funny How Time Slips Away [w/ Zac Brown], All Along the Watchtower [w/ Zac Brown], Some Devil, Ants Marching

Conclusion

Overall, HullabaLOU was a great success. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be like going to a frat party, or an incredible music experience. In reality, it was a little bit of both. I had a good time and I saw a lot of bands that performed and sounded much better than I thought they could. The heat was rough, but there were places you could go that actually had air conditioning, there were several free water fountains, and cold water was only two bucks a bottle, so it was manageable.

I mainly enjoyed the small crowds and the chance to see so many legendary acts in just three days. Steve Sexton, president of Churchill Downs Entertainment, says that HullabaLOU will be back next year. And hopefully I will, too.
——

[nggallery id=81]

Other acts of note include Al Green, Phoenix, Social Distortion, Damian Marley & Nas, The Levon Helm Band, Cat Power, Empire of the Sun, Wolfmother, Chromeo, Gogol Bordello, Bassnectar, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes, Pretty Lights, Janelle Monae, Amos Lee, and The Temper Trap. Check out the full list of confirmed acts here; lineup announcement remix video below.

Two-day passes, priced at $75, will go on sale tomorrow, Wednesday, June 2nd at 10:00 AM PST via Ticketmaster.com. Stay tuned for additional details. Correction: Two-day passes will be priced at $125, while single day will be priced at $75. The original price, which came from SFWeekly.com, was incorrected.

So far, we’ve seen one festival use a word puzzle to unveil its 2010 bill. Another held us hostage at our computers for a good 12 hours. A third just made no attempt of fixing its leaky faucet. For this year’s Outside Lands Music Festival, the San Francisco based event has been giving hints about its 2010 lineup via its Twitter account. It also apparently gave a copy of that lineup to Relix Magazine, which published a selection of OSL 10′s scheduled acts in this month’s issue.

So even though this year’s bill isn’t set to be unveiled until June 1st, we already know the following: Kings of Leon, My Morning Jacket, Phoenix, Al Green, The Levon Helm Band, Black Star, and Gossip will be appearing at San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park between August 14th and 15th.

Other rumored acts, based on the aforementioned Twitter clues, include Social Distortion, Chromeo, Bassnectar, Gogol Bordello, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, The Temper Trap, Tokyo Police Club, and Dirty Dozen Brass Band.

As mentioned all will officially be known on June 1st. Tickets will also be available on that date.

Not only is the film itself immaculately made, but the soundtrack is also one of the greatest and most iconic of all time. From the great use of surf rock standards as background and mood to Al Green and Kool & the Gang as perfect commentary to one of the best Neil Diamond covers/dance sequences ever, the soundtrack supplements the film to a T and also stands alone as one of the greatest mix tapes I’ve ever heard.

The final track on the collector’s edition of the soundtrack is an interview with Tarantino about the music he chose, and why he chose those particular songs. If you can get passed the stammering and randomness glory that is a Tarantino interview, he says some great things about the soundtrack. Right from the start, he discusses how he picks songs for soundtracks. Tarantino states that picking songs is one of the first things he does when he is making a movie. During his writing process he goes to his record collection and starts finding songs that would be the “spirit of the movie” to help him further his writing. He tries to find the songs that will tell the story almost on their own. He views soundtracks as stand-alone pieces of work and “mini offshoots of the movie”, almost supplements to the film or DVD extras, as it were.

One of the greatest things Tarantino does with Pulp Fiction’s soundtrack is create a mix tape for the film. An actual mix tape. Like one he would give his friends for their own enjoyment. He says of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, “This could very easily be a Quentin tape!” He wants to make it more than just a collection of songs. He wants it to be fun and have a personality. This explains his choice to include some memorable dialogue from the film on the album. The soundtrack includes tracks for John Travolta’s character Vincent Vega and Samuel L. Jackson’s character Jules Winnfield talking about the hash bars in Amsterdam and “royals with cheese”, their conversation about why Julius doesn’t eat pork, and also Jackson’s epic quotation of the Bible verse Ezekiel 25:17. He also includes short snippets of dialogue that come from scenes where the song is played. Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer’s dialogue about robbing the restaurant before the epic opening track “Misirlou” by Dick Dale and his Del-Tones, and the introduction for the twist competition before “You Never Can Tell” by Chuck Berry are among others. The inclusion of the dialogue completes that mix tape feeling. Hell, I know I used to make mix tapes with lines from famous movies in them when I was in middle school and high school. It makes perfect sense to me.

The songs go hand in hand with the corresponding scenes. It’s seamless, really. The moods that Tarantino is able to create with music, and that includes silence too, are spot-on. The surf music sets the time and mood without being too overwhelming. Tarantino mentions in the interview that he picked surf music because to him it sounds “more like a spaghetti western than surf music,” and that he doesn’t understand what surf rock “has to do with surfing in the first place.” The surf rock combined with songs like “Let’s Stay Together” by Al Green, “Jungle Boogie” by Kool & the Gang, and “Lonesome Town” by Ricky Nelson tell you that it’s the ’70s without cramming it down your throat. You know… like the Forrest Gump soundtrack. The songs also give you insight to the scenes and characters, as well: Bruce Willis’ character Butch Coolidge singing “Flowers on the Wall” by The Satler Brothers, or “Let’s Stay Together” playing while Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames) and Coolidge are discussing fixing the fight, for example.

Most, if not all, all of the songs have been cemented into the social conscious and tied to this movie. “Misirlou” will always ring back to the opening sequence of this film. The excitement built from the discussion of the diner robbery explodes into the opening guitar riff of the song and the opening credits perfectly. Tarantino describes the feeling by saying, “You’re watching an epic. You’re watching this big old movie…just sit back.” Urge Overkill’s cover of Neil Diamond’s “Girl, You’ll be a Woman Soon” is tied in with Uma Thurman’s fantastic dance sequence/overdose scene. And no one can ever think of “Comanche” by The Revels without thinking of sodomy. It’s an unfortunate thing to be remembered for, but Tarantino places it in the movie beautifully. The song gives me chills every time. Not in a good way at all, either. Tarantino claims that if you put the right song in the right scene, it’s “about as cinematic a thing as you can do…you can’t hear the song again without thinking about that scene in the movie.” He is exactly right.

The soundtrack itself, separated from the film, is in fact a stand-alone piece. The songs flow into the other easily and comfortably. Even if you have never seen the movie (in that case…why?!), you can still feel its spirit throughout. The soundtrack has a vibe and movement all its own. When you take the film into account, it is the quintessential soundtrack. No song feels out of place, or even forced. What’s more, there isn’t a tune that takes away something from the scenes. It adds, supports, and enhances every detail. Like the movie, the soundtrack is a diamond. Now, to more important matters, who here hasn’t seen it?

“Ladies and gentlemen, put your working class hands together for the hardest working band in the land…The Commitments!” -Jimmy Rabbitte

Opening this cinematic masterpiece, Roy Head & The Traits’ “Treat Her Right” plays over the credits as well as the surrounding shots of inner city Dublin. The film centers around the main character Jimmy Rabbitte, a music lover with no end in sight. Brilliantly played by Irish actor/musician Robert Arkins, Rabbitte’s sheer confidence and shrewd businesslike demeanor play heavily into how the film unfolds. His best friends include guitarist Outspan Foster (played by Glen Hansard, guitarist of The Frames and The Swell Season) as well as bassist Derek “Meatman” Scully (played by guitarist Kenneth McCluskey). Jimmy has returned from a trip across the country and convinces his two friends to leave the band they’re currently in because their singer “doesn’t have any soul.”

“What do you call yourselves?” -Jimmy Rabbitte
“And, And, And.” -Scully
“And, And, fuckin’ And?!” -Rabbitte

After a performance at a friend’s wedding commences, Rabbite and the others discuss different types of music, as well as band names, that aspire to where they come from and what reflects on the working man; soul. Soul music, as described by Rabbitte, is the working man’s music, the gears and grunt of the overall lifestyle…”ridin’, screwin’, fuckin’.” He also explains that the best 60′s bands always were “The somethings…” and that they should follow suit. Soul begins to engross the characters and proves to be the foreshadowing of what the rest of the film aims to do; lift the spirits of the people and give something universal to the North Side Dubliners.

Backtracking a bit during “And, And, And’s” performance at a friend’s wedding, the three characters spot a wildly drunk patron grab the microphone and wail as loud as possible into it. Rabbitte immediately takes a liking to this and eventually meets up with him during his day job at a car wash. He turns out to become the band’s lead singer, Declan “Deco” Cuffe (played brilliantly by 16-year-old Andrew Strong). At first he seems to balk at the idea of performing live. Rabbitte assures him though that his voice is genuine and that he’s “got a great set of lungs.” Initially hesitant at first, he then accepts Rabbitte’s offer to join the yet-unnamed band.

Over the course of the film’s next crucial scenes, we witness Rabbitte’s hilarious auditions take place as he looks for the rest of the members for his band. His father chimes in from time to time and asks him to sing for the band (played by legendary Irish actor Colm Meaney) as well as share his complete love for Elvis Presley. Bagpipe players, acoustic troubadours who sing songs about the KKK and Slash-lookalike heavy metal guitarists dominate the Rabbitte family’s living room. All the while Jimmy feels the daunting pressures and hard work associated with getting a band going, while hilariously asking that “rednecks and South Siders need not apply.”

Eventually, saxophonist Dean Fay (played by Irish sax player Félim Gormley), drummer Billy Mooney (played by Dick Massey) and pianist Steven Clifford (played by Michael Aherne) join the ranks of the fledgling group. After a night of all out drinking (complete with heavy handed criticisms of art-school music), the men welcome the group’s ladies to the forefront, backup singers Imelda Quirke (played by Angeline Ball), Natalie Murphy (played by Hothouse Flowers singer/member Maria Doyle Kennedy) and Bernie McGloughlin (played by Bronagh Gallagher). It is here while on the train ride home, Rabbitte describes in full detail the possibilities of becoming a soul band. With the entire band singing along to The Marvelettes’ “Destination: Anywhere”, it looks for the first time the entire band is united in their personal cause to bring soul to the sufferers of Dublin’s hard working lifestyle.

While preparing the band for their foray into soul, Deco, Dean and the others witness a performance on television of James Brown back in the 60′s. Seemingly confused at first, Dean asks Rabbitte, “Do you think we’re a little white for this sort of thing?” Rabbitte responds with the most important message of the movie:

“Do you not get it, lads? The Irish are the blacks of Europe. And Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland. And the Northside Dubliners are the blacks of Dublin. So say it once, say it loud: I’m black and I’m proud.” ~ Rabbitte

Eventually after a humorous meeting with the group’s charismatic trumpet player and veteran musician, Joey “The Lips” Fagan (played by Irish stage actor Johnny Murphy), Rabbitte and the rest of the band come up with the band name, The Commitments. Soon afterward, the band finds a practice space and begins belting out the soul number, Wilson Pickett’s “Mustang Sally.” The rehearsals become rough and ragged, but Rabbitte’s confidence and Fagan’s leadership ultimately consume the band and they become a tightly-knit band.

During the band’s first gig at an anti-heroin campaign, the band show signs of nervousness and stage fright. However, they are able to win the crowd over with scorching versions of Otis Redding’s “Mr. Pitiful” and Mary Wells’ “Bye Bye Baby,” (Maria Doyle Kennedy absolutely kills it here.) It is also here however that Deco starts to show signs of severe egotism, going as far as to ask, “How d’yee like me band?” With that said, bassist Scully then is electrocuted onstage and ends the band’s first set prematurely.

For the next few scenes, The Commitments are shown rehearsing and showing the band’s progress from scrappy Irish kids to becoming an aspiring soul band. However, the cracks begin to show themselves within the band and become more and more prominent as the film continues. At the band’s next gig, Deco and drummer Billy Mooney get into an onstage argument which foreshadows much more damage to follow. Afterward, the band launches into an weeping version of James Carr’s version of “The Dark End Of The Street,” complete with epic Deco face changing grunts and moans. The crowds begin to pay more and more attention to the new “saviors of soul” and begin attracting larger crowds hungry for the music that defines them.

While the band’s popularity begins to rise, drummer Billy Mooney abruptly quits the band due to his intense dislike for Deco. Rabbitte is furious with Mooney’s decision but nonetheless lets him go. Facing a daunting task to venture forward, Rabbitte decides to break the band’s tough-as-nails roadie, Mickah “Don’t Fuck With Me” Wallace (played by Dave Finnegan) as their new drummer and the results are downright hilarious. After a few sessions with Wallace on the kit, The Commitments tear it up again at their next gig with dazzling performances of Otis Redding’s “Hard To Handle” (available on the Vol. 2 soundtrack) and Aretha Franklin’s “Chain Of Fools.” During the band’s gig, Rabbitte is roused up by some loan sharks who demand money from him in return for borrowing PA equipment for the band. While the loan sharks threaten to steal all the band’s fortunes, Wallace jumps offstage from his kit and pummels all three of the sharks while giving the money back to Rabbitte. Easily the best scene in the movie and proves to be the climax for this hard-working band.

Sadly all good things do come to an end and by the time Wallace’s heroics come into the fold, the band resemble nothing more than a pile of splinters. Dean explores jazz music (much to Rabbitte’s dismay), all three backup singers begin fighting over sleeping with Joey “The Lips” and Deco is offered an opportunity to sing with another band. With word that Wilson Pickett will join the band onstage at their last gig, The Commitments band together for one last outing with awesome performances of Otis Redding’s “Try A Little Tenderness,” Aretha Franklin’s “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You)” and their closing number of Wilson Pickett’s “In The Midnight Hour.” While the group put on their finest hour of musicianship, as well as receive an offer to record through Eejit Records, the band break up amidst a sea of arguments, brawls and jealous egotism…all with Rabbitte watching in disgust saying “fuck the lotties, fuck ‘em.”

The film ends with a personal dialogue between Jimmy Rabbitte and Joey “The Lips” discussing the failing of the band as well as Rabbitte’s accusations of Fagen being a liar:

“Look, I know you’re hurtin’ now, but in time you’ll realize what you’ve achieved.” -Fagen
“I’ve achieved nothing!” -Rabbitte
“You’re missin’ the point. The success of the band was irrelevant — you raised their expectations of life, you lifted their horizons. Sure we could have been famous and made albums and stuff, but that would have been predictable. This way it’s poetry.” -Fagen

In the final scene, a montage shows the aftermath of the band’s members venturing into other musical territories as well as with a mock interview of Rabbitte with Rolling Stone over the bookend of Roy Head & The Traits’ “Treat Her Right” during the closing of the credits. With the journey of arguably one of the finest musical films ever made, Alan Parker’s The Commitments is a musical joyride through the beauty and the breakdown of Dublin life. Soul is used as an escape; a getaway for those afflicted with the crippling of the endless working class days. What Rabbitte fails to see at the time of the band’s demise comes to fruition throughout the film. With the film’s soundtrack in check, not just the North Side Dubliners earn a piece of soul, but the gift is shared by everyone who desires a getaway and a simpler, honest approach to the world. If only Rabbitte could see his work now, The Commitments over time seem more and more relevant with each passing year. Simply put, Roddy Doyle is a genius and The Commitments never gets old.

Though that latter definition is certainly up for argument, few will contest when the line up sports such names as: Bon Jovi, Kenny Chesney, and Dave Matthews Band. But, do some digging and it’s actually an amicable line up, once you wade through the aforementioned muck. There’s Al Green, who everyone loves (and with good reason), The Black Crowes, and even the B-52s, who still know how to make cheesy look hip. That’s not all, either. Not only will Kansas and War be taking a break from the state fairs and racetracks, but so will the Doobie Brothers and Steppenwolf, too. And does anyone else think it’s ironic or comical that Michael McDonald is also on the same bill?

Yee haw!

Tickets, available in all sorts of varieties, go on sale beginning Tuesday, December 1st via Ticketmaster.com.

As Drowned in Sound reports, the Later.. Live With Jools Holland Vol. 2 CD will feature recording of the show’s best performances over the past year, which means you’ll be getting the likes of of Muse, MGMT, Bon Iver, Santigold, Lilly Allen, Al Green, Goldfrapp, The Raconteurs and, of course, Holland himself. The CD set is the second such one released by the show (Vol. 1 hit stores last year), which has been on the air since 1992.

The album will be available beginning October 12th via Rhino. For now, a taste of the musical goodness on Later…

Later… Live With Jools Holland Vol. 2 Tracklist:
CD1:
01. Muse – Uprising
02. Elbow – Grounds For Divorce
03. Little Boots – Remedy
04. Hot Chip – Ready For The Floor
05. Keane – Spiralling
06. MGMT – Time To Pretend
07. Lisa Hannigan – I Don’t Know
08. Last Shadow Puppets – The Age Of The Understatement
09. Nicole Atkins – Maybe Tonight
10. Glen Campbell – Wichita Lineman
11. Bon Iver – Skinny Love
12. Friendly Fires – Jump In The Pool
13. Radiohead – Bodysnatchers
14. Santigold – L.E.S Artists
15. Adele & Jools – To Make You Feel My Love
16. Manic Street Preachers – Jackie Collins Existential Question Time
17. Pendulum – Granite

CD2:
01. Lily Allen – It’s Not Fair
02. Paolo Nutini – Candy
03. Al Green – Let’s Stay Together
04. Melody Gardot – Sweet Memory
05. Vampire Weekend – Mansard Roof
06. Morrissey – Something Is Squeezing My SKull
07. New York Dolls – ‘Cause I Sez So
08. Paul Weller – Push It Along
09. Seasick Steve – I Started Out With Nothin’ And I Still Got Most Of It Left
10. Jools Holland – I Went By
11. Golden Silvers – True Romance
12. Madness – Forever Young
13. Natty – July
14. Karima Francis – Use Somebody
15. Goldfrapp – Happiness
16. Monkey – Monkey’s World
17. The Raconteurs – Salute Your Solution

It happened before the train wrecks Stuck on You, Jersey Girl, and Bennifer. Elliott Smith was alive and making tremendously gorgeous music. The year was 1998, and Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, two newbies to Hollywood via Boston, held the red carpet and an entire post-modern generation captive with the quasi-autobiographical screenplay Good Will Hunting.

It’s not your fault.

Unless, of course, you happened to be a voting member of the 1997 Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences who bestowed the Oscar for Best Original Song to overly fizzy, Canadian pop songstress Celine Dion for “My Heart Will Go On”. On and on and on did that song go until Titanic finally sunk into its procrustean bed of SNL mockery. Those who were a part of the Academy that year passed over Elliott Smith’s original song “Miss Misery”, the linchpin of the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, and must harbor the guilt. To use the fuming, angry words of Damon’s character, Will Hunting, I bet every time that blasted Titanic song comes on they wish they had a take-back.

To everyone else, it’s not your fault.

After all, it’s easy to wax cynical about what grabs society by the neck, cuts off oxygen to the brain, and sends people into stupor-induced frenzies of idolatry. We are a fickle people who are quick to anoint something as the next big thing only to find ourselves mocking it shortly after (see also: Pogs, The Macarena, and the Rachel haircut). The truly golden stuff shines on. Guess what film, 12 years later, is still enjoying a spot in iTunes’ top 10 movie sales? Good Will Hunting. How about them apples?

Sure, we can nit-pick about Robin Williams’ on again/off again, Bostonian accent. Sure, GWH’s numerous memorable lines and man-emo made their share of SNL skits, but let’s get on to the music. Kevin Smith worked with Affleck on Chasing Amy and shopped his pal’s screenplay around Hollywood, passed over by several studios until landing at Miramax. Gus Van Sant directed and tapped Danny Elfman, whose CV includes Tim Burton’s Batman and The Simpsons, to compose the score. This is where it gets a bit interesting. Only two small bits of Elfman’s Oscar-nominated score appear on the official soundtrack. Elfman explains to Nuno Markl, “The albums are not about the movie: they are about marketing … It’s a little bit sad for the movie because, more and more the soundtrack album doesn’t necessarily represent the movie … Good Will Hunting didn’t represent the movie at all.” He speaks the truth.

“Fisherman’s Blues” is a fun, Irish-gypsy surprise, but misrepresentation rings true as tracks by Andru Donalds and Luscious Jackson seem particularly misplaced amidst chancy choices like “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty and “Boys Better” by The Dandy Warhols.  At least the latter earn their way as believable background noise in the life of the blue-collar, Bostonian twenty-somethings.

Elfman’s score also garnered an Academy Award nomination in the appropriate category (Best Original Score) and again lost to Titanic. Though, this is not as difficult to stomach because the score’s two true standout attributes are not Elfman’s original compositions. Instead, the best triumphs are his intricate weaving of the simple score into the modern cuts (as seen in the both the Harvard bar and fight scenes) and, secondly, Elliott Smith’s songs.

Taking Elfman’s thoughts about the album alone, he appears bitter about the compilation. However, the compilation and the film itself are a tremendous example of composer and contemporary musician weaving together their creativity, using the best of both talents. The decision to work with Elliott Smith appears to have been easy. Elfman said, “There were times when we [Van Sant, Smith] would sit together and play the guitar and play ideas. I was then able to make my score interface really well with Elliot’s music. I could make a piece of score end to the same key and flow into the introduction of Elliot’s songs, so you really couldn’t tell the difference! That was the best experience I had in terms of working with an artist on songs.”  This critical detail is a delicate one, which adorns without distracting from the true triumph of the film – the emerging of redemption from the broken lives of the characters.

At the time of the film, Elliott Smith was newly signed to a label and set to release his first non-independent albums. His confessional lyrics came from the dark, demonized caverns of his persona but were mournfully comforting; from this place, Smith helped pave the way for Emo’s mainstream surface in the early 2000s. Will Hunting is tough, bristled, and defensive. Smith’s music is gentle, effacing, and revealing. How does it work so well?  Playing into the dichotomy of the two was genius. Smith’s sound embodies the capable emotions running through Hunting, hidden and protected, buried somewhere under his combative amour. It shows the side of Will he cannot (or will not) show himself.

The film and soundtrack showcase Smith’s “Angeles”, “No Name #3″, and arguably his two most popular songs, “Say Yes” and “Between the Bars”. “Between the Bars” plays during a comfortably intimate scene between Will and his love interest, Skylar, played by Minnie Driver. Skylar playfully asks the defensive Will to be more open in their relationship. “People you’ve been before that you don’t want around anymore/That push and shove and won’t bend to your will/I’ll keep them still/Drink up, baby, look at the stars/I’ll kiss you again between the bars.” The song fits superbly with Will’s attempt to segment his life into nice, little, inaccessible pieces.

“Say Yes” is one of the most playful scenes of the film, where Will and Skylar have their first date. The lyrics encompass even more of the film’s theme of shards of happiness left in a mess when the dread of future loss paralyzes one from enjoying the moment.

Will’s journey culminates in “Miss Misery”, written specifically for the film. The self-deprecating tune somehow fills us with hope, as Will makes his first conscious decision to take off the armor, driving into the risk of loving and being loved. “It’s a comedy of errors, you see/It’s about taking a fall/To vanish into oblivion/Is easy to do/And I try to be but you know me/I come back when you want me to.” This is where Elliott Smith and Will Hunting part ways. Sadly, Smith never faced his demons and died tragically in 2003, most likely at the doing of his own hand. Thankfully, Smith’s music lives on in the story of a man whose life plays out differently, calling all out of shame and fear into a place of honesty and freedom.

Good Will Hunting Original Motion Picture Soundtrack tracklist

01. “Between the Bars [Orchestral]” – Elliott Smith
02. “As the Rain” – Jeb Loy Nichols
03. “Angeles” – Elliott Smith
04. “No Name #3″ – Elliott Smith
05. “Fisherman’s Blues” – The Waterboys
06. “Why Do I Lie?” – Luscious Jackson
07. “Will Hunting [Main Titles]”
08. “Between the Bars” – Elliott Smith
09. “Say Yes” – Elliott Smith
10. “Baker Street” – Gerry Rafferty
11. “Somebody’s Baby” – Andru Donalds
12. “Boys Better” – The Dandy Warhols
13. “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?” – Al Green
14. “Miss Misery” – Elliott Smith
15. “Weepy Donuts” – Steve Bartek, Danny Elfman

Hot and muddy. Not your PB&J type of combo for sure – after all, if you’ve taken a science class, you’re probably asking yourself how it can be hot and muddy at the same time. Yet, this and more was the scene on day two of this year’s Bonnaroo Music Festival. After a day of monsoon-like rains on Thursday, Friday brought the heat, and lots of it, but not enough to dry the cesspool of mud that besieged both Centeroo and the trails to and from it.

Of course, when you factor in the sounds set to take the stage on Friday, all this didn’t matter too much. Once you got past the fact that your own pair of Converse had become one with the earth and a drenching set would be accompanying you for most of the afternoon, you were home free.

Katzenjammer:
That Tent: 12:00-1:00

On two separate occasions, the lovely Norwegian ladies of Katzenjammer swept us away with their unique combination of fiddles, trumpets, accordions, keyboards, kazoos, banjos, glockenspiel and of course their signature “cat” bass which resulted in a circus frenzy of chaotic energy and unmatchable on-stage fervor. Constantly switching between polka, rock, and country and while continuously trading instruments, watching the ladies of Katzenjammer as they plowed through a collection of mind-blowing jigs and waltzes without a moment’s breath was truly a sight to see! Whether they were frantically hopping up and down, jumping off amps and piano benches, or sweetly teaching you how to make their granny’s delicious cherry pie, Katzenjammer put their hearts on their sleeves and pushed our limits to the max with the ever-burning fire in their bellies. And you could tell how excited they were to be there as well between their ecstatic cries of joy and unwillingness to let any mishaps interfere with their performance, like when their keyboard completely died on them. Nay, they carried on strong and each of their 45 minute sets sent the entire crowd into an uncontrollable dancing frenzy that drenched us in our own beer and left us yearning for more. – AF

Dirty Projectors:
That Tent: 1:30-2:30

Where the hell do I start? This was a performance absolutely not to be missed. It’s hard to pack all of what Dave Longstreth and his Dirty Projectors do into one word, but as the name suggests, dirty is quite an appropriate descriptor. Not the kind of dirty that makes you want to take a shower, but the kind that makes you turn to the random dude next to you and say “Damn, that guy is dirty!” If Bitte Orca hasn’t hit your radar yet, or if you simply don’t “get” the Dirty Projectors, see them live as soon as you can. Hell, see them live as many times as you can. On the heels of their recent masterpiece, the folks that make up the experimental Brooklyn outfit brought forth enough goods to make the rest of Bonnaroo’s Friday, and maybe even most of the weekend, look like a shitshow. If it wasn’t Longstreth’s insanely glitchy, mind bending, intricate guitar work—something that seemed to wander aimlessly during solos, but somehow kept time (how that drummer kept it together was beyond me) — then, perhaps it was the triple (sometimes quadruple) threat of perfectly harmonized oscillating vocals that made it all so good. But, then again, maybe it was the intensely ornate breakdowns and power thrashing that went on in between during songs like ‘Temecula Sunrise’”. Oh hell, it was everything. All of it was almost too much to take in.

There’s nothing better than a pleasant surprise, especially at a music festival. The Dirty Projectors’ mid-day Friday set was that and more. It was a perplexing performance. One that was both awe inspiring and confusing. The crowd went nuts throughout the Bitte Orca heavy set, most notably while watching on as the ever-so-cute Amber Coffman stunned them with “Stillness is the Move,” one of the finest tracks on that record. These guys know what they’re doing, and the wow factor was as high as could be. But to really go for the gold, Longstreth invited “friend” David Byrne onstage to join the group (after all he did curate the stage and invite them to the festival) for a high energy rendition of their Dark Was the Night contribution, “Knotty Pine”, to end the set. Yes, it’s safe to say that the Dirty Projectors’ left their mark in Manchester this weekend. – DL

Animal Collective:
Which Stage: 2:45-4:00

Close your eyes. Let the waves of water drenched electric fuzz swash their way into your innocent ears. There goes your innocence.

After experiencing the event that is Animal Collective, most other things can seem pretty normal. Animal Collective is a group that grabs hold of the boundaries and beats them as hard as they can against the ground. This seemingly violent display of originality, however, is achieved through sheer eloquence. No matter the caliber of an Animal Collective performance, it is sure to leave some in awe, some downright disappointed, others simply bemused. They’re a band that’s as polarizing as they get. But Friday’s mid-day jaunt saw the boys perform the beach boys infused pysch-pop of Merriweather Post Pavilion in the sunny conditions it was inspired by. Sure, Animal Collective would seem better fitting as a late night act (they do translate better in the dark), but on the flipside, it doesn’t get much sunnier than MPP. And what better setting to perform such bright tracks than under the blazing Tennessee sun?

In a set that consisted mainly of Merriweather songs, the collective was as loose as ever, stretching three minute studio tracks into fifteen minutes, to no contest. It was clear that Avey Tare, Panda Bear, and Geologist, were letting the Bonnaroo vibes rub off on ther acid drenched sound. This was one of the jammiest Animal Collective sets we’ve ever seen. But, it was a great one at that. The thing is, with the Baltimore trio, you never do know exactly what you’re going to get. That’s where half the fun lies. As the guys fluttered through their noisy pop, at times the sound was a bit softer than it could have been, but at others you could shut your eyelids and hear waves of static crash against you. They built a wall of sound and it was easy to get lost in it, as was especially clear in the near 20 minute rendition of “Fireworks”. Ending with the dancy “Brothersport”, Animal Collective closed the door on another great Bonnaroo experience. – DL

St. Vincent:
That Tent – 3:00-4:15

18 months ago, St. Vincent was the one-man band consisting of Annie Clark and a bunch of pre-recorded beats. Today, St. Vincent is still Annie Clark, but with a four-piece band accompanying her, complete with a guitarist, bassist, drummer, and saxophonist/violinist. The 18 month span has also brought a few changes in the musicality of Ms. Clark. Following the release of this year’s Actor, her sound is much more synth, though not in overly troubling sort of way. There is more jamming – Phish would be proud, more interaction, with both the crowd and her new found bandmates, and finally, there is more confiedece. As Clark made her way through the Actor heavy set, it wasn’t hard to hear, and feel, the confidence of the Tulsa native. You know, the type of confidence that in a span of 18 months has evolved you into an opener for The National  and Arcade Fire to one of the more anticipated acts playing on one of the biggest tents at one of the country’s biggest music festival. – AY

Yeah Yeah Yeahs:
Which Stage: 4:45-6:00

In what was perhaps the most unsurprising hour of Bonnaroo ’09, Karen O. and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs took to Which Stage for what proved to be a powerful, passionate, and ultimately, pretty fucking awesome performance, aka your standard Yeah Yeah Yeah’s shindig. Karen’s outfit was a hit – leopard tights and multi-colored top, as were most of the selections performed during the hour long set. But the biggest highlight had to be Karen’s deep throating of the microphone shortly after the band kicked off its set. Yes, kids, the fearless frontlady was as crazy as ever. – AY

Al Green:
What Stage: 6:00-7:35

As the sun set, the ever so classy and romantic Reverend Al Green waltzed up on to the What Stage dressed in his Sunday best, flinging roses out to all the ladies. From there began the evening’s groovy lawn party, as millions of viewers jammed out to the legendary soul king’s classic tunes. But that wasn’t enough for the Reverend. No, Green continuously shouted out, “Y’all too far away” in-between breaking it down with his backup vocalists and you could tell all the while that he wanted to break loose from the confines of the stage. Green had a couple of tricks of his sleeve though, whipping out a slew of covers halfway through his performance from a time, as he put it “when the music was good, the lovin’ was good, and everything was good”; including tunes like “My Girl” and “(Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay”. Overall, Green dished out a spirited performance with gusto and a cool ease that brought everyone together for a peaceful evening of love, sweat and tears. – AF

Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band:
Cafe Where: 7:30-8:30

Performing in the least ideal of time slots and locations of perhaps any artist at this year’s Bonnaroo was Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band. Wedged in a time 99% of the crowd could be found waiting for either David Byrne or the Beastie Boys to take the stage at a stage where a cesspool could be found instead of grass, it wasn’t much of a surprise to see few folks gathered when the Seattle outfit took the stage at 7:30. Yet, once the grungy, Minus The Bear-like sounds of their self-titled debut rang aloud, it didn’t take long for more and more folks to gather, and before you knew it, Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band became a crowd favorite – an ironic twist considering the circumstances. – AY

Beastie Boys:
What Stage: 8:30-10:00

Staying dry proved difficult throughout Thursday night and when I woke up Friday morning I wasn’t surprised to have a damp pillow and sleeping bag. But, a little dampness is nothing a day full of music can’t fix. At least, that’s what I thought until the weekends biggest let-down slapped me in the face. What could that letdown possibly be, you ask? The Beastie Boys, that’s what. Perhaps it was just where I was standing but when Mike D, MCA, Ad-Rock, and Mix Master Mike took the stage, the sound was less than impressive. Still, since this reviewer had been looking forward to the Beastie’s all weekend, I wasn’t about to let some sound ruin my experience, and headed up to the pit as “No Sleep Til’ Brooklyn” came bumping out of the speakers. Could this be the first of a set doused in Licensed to Ill material, I hoped?

That wish was left unanswered as “Paul Revere” proved to be the only other track the trio managed to play off its debut. Of course, “Intergalactic” made its way onto the list, along with “Body Movin” and to go the extra mile, they brought out New York rapper Nas for a new song called “Too Many Rappers”, which should find itself on the new record, Hot Sauce Committee. In the end, this guest slot might exemplify the hip-hopper’s set best. Choosing to fly someone in for a performance is kind of a big deal, especially when there at so many talented artists at the festival (yes, even rappers). Sure, Nas probably will likely appear on the song once the album surfaces and yes, it made sense for him to appear for its debut performance. But, could you have given us something more, beyond a couple songs, beyond Nas, beyond a set that felt very much like it was by the book? Don’t get me wrong, the performance was by no means bad, but it the end, it left a little to be desired. – AK

David Byrne:
Which Stage: 8:45-10:45

Whereas the Beastie Boys were bringing the beats, just a short five minute walk away, David Byrne was bringing the dance. And a childlike enthusiasm. And an all white fashion statement. And a set consisting of solo selections (“Everything That Happens”, “Heaven”), Talking Head favorites (“Once in a Lifetime”, “Life During Wartime”), and covers (Al Green’s “Take Me To The River”). Needless to say, the former Talking Heads frontman put on a  performance not to be missed. Would awesome be the right word to explain the 85 minute set? Or, perhaps disbelief, courtesy of everything from the choreographed dancing to the fact that Byrne could have and probably wanted to play another 85 minutes. Either way, to quote Byrne, it was a “Once in a Liftetime” performance. – AY

Phish:
What Stage: 11:00-2:00ish

Upon the first note of Phish frontman Trey Anastasio, glow sticks rained from the sky and balloons appeared out of thin air as hippies everywhere rejoiced in the sounds of their worship. Much can be said about the jam band’s three-plus hour performance: The things Anastasio can do with a guitar still baffle me and c be outlawed in at least five states (Utah, anyone?. Covers of AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell” and The Beatles’ “A Day In The Life” and longtime classics, like “Chalkdust Torture”, helped catch the attention of even the smallest of fans. The band couldn’t have looked more happy to be playing the fields of Manchester – something Trey let the crowd know before the band launched into the first of many jam sessions that evening.

After speaking with my fair share of Phish-heads, we could all agree on one thing, Anastasio is a lot more fun without the habbit, thanks for quitting. With a full three hour set on Friday night, one was left wondering how they would dare to top themselves on Sunday night… – AK

Phoenix:
That Tent: 11:30-12:15

“Thank you. You truly don’t know how happy we are to be here,” announced Phoenix frontman Thomas Mars midway through the band’s late night set at That Tent. Happy might be the biggest understatement of the weekend. In what was 45 minutes of nonstop music, the French quartet dazzled a packed crowd, which not only consisted of adoring fans, but members of Passion Pit, Hockey, and Delta Spirit, Flava Flav, Beatle Boy (yes, he’s not dead), and a higher-up from AC Entertainment (one of the company’s behind Bonnaroo) with selections mostly taken from the recently released Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix. Musicianship was displayed to the highest quality, as was excitement and passion, perhaps the latter of which was best exemplified during Mars crowd surf at the end of the performance. For a weekend jam packed with hyped indie acts, Phoenix separate itself from the back and provided a brilliant example as to why they should be considered king of the genre. – AY

Crystal Castles:
That Tent: 12:45-1:45

Between the hot mess of drug-induced sweat on the dance floor and some overwhelming theatrics, it’s surprising that no one suffered a seizure from Crystal Castles’ late night show at That Tent. Out from underneath a thick, suffocating cloud of fog came a forceful amalgamation of obscure noises and pulsating lights which completely enveloped the band, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint where the chaotic screams of vocalist Alice Glass were coming from. As a result, the audience was left adrift on a sea of fog and chaos, completely blinded by a combobulation of flickering stage lights, glow sticks and laser pointers. While thrilling, The duo’s intoxicating 50 minute set still managed to instill wayward feelings in its audience. Between our inability to see and connect with the band and the underdeveloped distortion of Glass’s vocals, Crystal Castles’ performance almost seemed to suggest that these electro junkies might be better off sticking to the studio. – AF

———

Additional photo support courtesy Karen Dunbar

Press Conference feat. Janeane Garofalo & Ani DiFranco:

Dirty Projectors:

St. Vincent:

Yeah Yeah Yeahs:

Al Green:

TV on the Radio:

Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band:

David Byrne:

Beastie Boys:

Phish:

Girl Talk:

10.) Nine Inch Nails – Pretty Hate Machine

For anyone who has been in a long-term relationship, you know a huge knockdown, drag-out fight is inevitable. But so is what comes next (unless it’s a break up, then this doesn’t apply, and I’m sorry for bringing up a sore subject). Nothing says angry sex like Trent Reznor and this album, just make sure the people down stairs are gone for the night.

9.) AC/DC – Back in Black

Good ol’fashioned stripper rock never got things grinding faster. The only requirement here is a fireman’s pole and some singles. Just remember to tip well! Who knows, she could be paying her way through med-school.

8.) Ratatat – LP3

While a new record, this one comes packed with solid beats and a hint of jungle fever to help you go wild.

7.) Eagles of Death Metal – Death By Sexy

This one falls along the same raunchy, one night stand, lines of Back In Black, only this time you might want to get tested the next day.

6.) Beck – Midnight Vultures

Who remembers the video for “Sexx Laws”? Even home appliances can’t resist the urge. That was only the send off for some of the most fun you will have doing the horizontal tango with Beck pumping through the speakers. Even nerdy white guys need love, and if “Nicotine and Gravy” or “Mixed Business” don’t make this obvious, I don’t know what will. Remember, he’ll “feed you fruit that don’t exist”.

5.) Prince – 1999

If there is one name that is dripping with sensuality it’s Prince. Really it doesn’t matter which record of his you put on, as long as he hits those hi-notes nothing can go wrong.

4.) Parliament – Mothership Connection

The king of funk is back, and George Clinton is here to help you get down. This music was written for one thing, and one thing only, and if the porn industry approves, you know it’s going to be a good night…or afternoon…or morning. “There’s a whole lot of rhythm going ‘round”.

3.) Jamiroqui – A Funk Odyssey

Again, funk music is classic for setting the mood, and with his smooth voice, and heavy beats you’ll get the whole place jumping.

2.) Daft Punk – Discovery

“Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger”, “One More Time”, and “Digital Love”. Need I say more?

1.) Al Green – Lets Stay Together

Mr. Green helps you keep it classy with this one. He gets your point across with a romantic touch that is irresistible to anyone listening. Light some candles, bust out the Stouffers dinner, and get ready to make love.

Taking a break from long time producer Willie Mitchell, the man behind the boards at Hi Records and producer of Green’s biggest hits, rap star/drummer/producer Ahmir “?uestlove” Thompson sets the grooves on this disc. ?uestlove has expressed an adoration for Green’s catalog, and it shows. The disc is full of powerful bass and strings that help set the mood for each track. Thompson also intelligently grabs some contemporary artists to help Green appeal to a younger generation.

Anthony Hamilton makes the first guest appearance, on the silky opening track “Lay It Down”, and does a pretty good Sly Stone impression on “You Got The Love I Need”, accenting Green’s vocal with some celebratory yelps and laughs. Corrine Bailey Rae also lends her vocals on “Take Your Time”, easily the most sensual song on the disc. John Legend adds his voice and piano to “Stay With Me”, helping the midtempo track shimmer.

Green can carry a song by himself of course, his voice sounds like it hasn’t aged a bit. His range may be hampered some, but the feeling and passion resonates throughout.

Check Out: