Tyler the Creator
Robert Pollard waltzed out, sporting a well-worn Ohio t-shirt, and asked the crowd, “Are you guys ready for some quality, professional rock ‘n’ roll?” The festival stages at Pitchfork increasingly seem designed to separate the professionals from the up-n-comers and ever more so from those not yet ready for prime-time.
The sure-fire professionals: Guided by Voices, Neko Case, Superchunk, No Age, James Blake, Off!, Yuck, Kylesa, Deerhunter.
That list represents the groups that felt fully in their element. Some of them (GBV, Superchunk) have been at it for quite some time, and rolled through their sets with impressive vigor. (Yes, Bob Pollard’s leg-licks are still incredible.) Off! were as intense as any band half their age, but for joyful noise, you’d have a hard time topping Superchunk, whose new material had almost as many kids singing along as their classics. The effort of their dozen song set showed on their faces, but they never slowed down.
Others are just ready for the big venues and prepared to roll with the moment. Two of the three stages were beset with technically difficulties all weekend, No Age pulled off an incredible set, despite the fact that some of their equipment never started working. They just re-wrote their set-list as they went, to the benefit of the crowd-surfing masses that cheered their every move. Deerhunter seemed readymade to fill the park with sound. They closed their set with an expansive take on “He Would Have Laughed” that ended with guitar fuzz that must have been heard 10 blocks away. And Destroyer’s new Euro-cruise sounds fit well with all the pripsters in their top-siders.
Meanwhile, it was pretty clear which of the newcomers already have their live chops in shape. EMA elicited a surprising uproar from the crowd, which grew steadily as fans arriving for the day were compelled to find out who the fuck was being so compelling so early in the day. Ariel Pink’s histrionics certainly got people worked-up; it’s unclear whether they won him any new fans, however. His music made more sense, though, with the accompaniment of his gaping mouth, rolling eyes, and wind-thrashed hair.
Hip-hop usually does well in the summer setting, and G-Side and Curren$y both proved their ability to bring even an unfamiliar flock along for a good ride. Shabazz Palaces, however, as skilled as they were, fell comparatively flat. In part because of the low-key nature of the music, and in part because Butterfly was trapped by his need to operate a laptop as he rapped. For instruction on how to remain engaging while operating heavy software, he could have looked to Baths, probably the most exciting knob-twiddler I’ve ever seem perform. Imagine Jeremy Piven in a tank-top, dancing and grinning and genuinely pleased that the audience seems to be taking to him. There’s that theory that’s it’s a joy to watch someone who’s good at his job do his work, whatever it is, and that was certainly true here.
Tune-Yards and HEALTH got by largely on the force of their uncompromising personalities. In Tune-Yards’ case, that meant being charmingly unahamed of the facial contortions necessary for producing all those vocal variations. In HEALTH’s case it meant screaming, smashing, and battering all semblance of order without regard for shit like “enjoyment.” I don’t know if anyone liked HEALTH’s set, but everyone will remember it.
Three of the up-n-coming acts, though, took the moment they were given and chose to transcend even the excellence of their music with live-shows that were exciting and moving. How to Dress Well’s Tom Krell showed how true his talent is, working out the kinks in his orchestral accompaniment while lifting the crowd with his fantastic vocal abilities. His cover of R.Kelly’s “I Wish” was a highlight of the weekend, as he went straight to the soulful sentimentality of that song and took everybody there with him. Zola Jesus, another singer of prodigious talent brought a great band playing driving versions of her songs, a cool dress, and a beguiling stage presence. She rarely stopped moving, and fully invested herself in every emotion she could sing her way to. Lastly, Twin Shadow, perhaps the best set of the festival, seems to have finally figured out the right dosage of straight-up rock necessary to bring his songs to satisfying life in person. It’s risky to make this comparison, but he really did remind me of Prince in his passionate delivery, his guitar shredding, and the way playing and singing music seems for him to be as natural as walking and talking.
There were disappointments, though. Cut Copy failed to make a believer of me; their music somehow felt thinner in person. Thurston Moore, despite the advantage of experience, seemed unable to engage anyone but the most biased listeners. Das Racist, while entertaining, seemed more silly than anything else (and no one seemed more bothered by that fact than they did.) A number of bands whose records I’ve been enjoying seemed unable to locate their in-person charisma, including Sun Airway, Wild Nothing, and The Radio Dept.
Did I mention that Gang Gang Dance were terrible?
And I guess we have to discuss Odd Future. I could write several pages about the build-up to their set, the fear on the faces of the security people, and the divisive nature of their appearances elsewhere on the festival grounds. Tyler showed up around the Blue Stage to sign some autographs and his presence (and the crowd’s hysterical response) started an argument among the usually neutral photographers. Anyway, they started their set with the DJ playing back Bob Marley’s “One Love ” and the Black Eyed Peas’ “Where Is the Love,” and Tyler wore a tie-died peace-sign shirt. Then they got the crowd shouting along to the most vile lyrics you could imagine. Was that a fun way to spend a summer afternoon? The majority opinion at this point seems to be that it was memorable, but not remarkable, and we should all be thankful for that.
TV on the Radio closed out the festival, and are a good final band on which to ruminate. I’ve seen them several times before, and only in small spaces. At a couple of those shows, they had to re-start a couple of songs, and a lot of the joy of their sets was the energy they put into exploding their music into something that could encompass everyone in the room. “Wolf Like Me” was at one time the climax of their shows, and they’d end with the whole crowd shouting along “we’re howling forever, oo-oooo.” By that point, Tunde Adebimpe would have pretty much lost control of his limbs completely and the whole band would be jumping up and down. So, despite the fact that TVotR were awesome in Union Park, and absolutely destroyed that crowd, it was almost disappointing to see all that relentless energy channeled with such precision. “Wolf Like Me” was dropped-in 3/4 of the way through the set, without the extended ending that I loved so much before. And though they covered Fugazi, and played plenty of their early material, and probably let down very few of their fans, for my taste they were a too-well-oiled machine, maybe over-rehearsed, and had too little room for the kind of chaos that used to rush on-stage with them. In short, they were very, very professional.
