Friday

North Coast doesn’t ease you in on Friday. Enjoy the dance party of Pretty Lights and I’m sure Chemical Brothers will be back on more than just another one of those other “Block Rockin’ Beats.”

Be sure to get into North Coast by 2:00 to catch Great Divide. It'll be tough to leave, but definitely catch some of the end of New Mastersounds. Those dudes are funky. Cozy up to the stage after that and hold down a good spot for Grace Potter & the Nocturnals. If you've seen them before, you'll understand what I mean. If you're seeing them for the first time, you can thank me later. From there it's a back and forth of can't misses with the New Deal, Jay Electronica, De La Sol, and then, so much more than the cherry on top, Umphrey's McGee. I just watched their new short film The Tabernacle this afternoon. I'm totally in awe of these guys every time I seen them play (and it's somewhere in the 60s I believe).

Saturday

Sunday

Sundays are sleep-in days. Roll in at 3:30 for Dirty Dozen Brass Band. These dudes are sure to bring the N'awlins funk to North Coast. Speaking of funk, go see my fellow MOT, Mayer Hawthorne & the Country. Eat some dinner and get up close for Lupe Fiasco. The dude is a performer, and the star of my favorite photograph that I've ever taken.

Best Show: The Strokes- Now I know why they’re called the Strokes. Julian Casablancas is a strong front man, but the way these boys stroke those axes is truly something special. They’re a top flight rock band. It’s time they start touring and releasing albums that remind us of this. They brought it from the opening note of “New York City Cops” and reminded us why we made such a big fuss about them when they were still producing. 9.3/10

Biggest Surprise: DEVO- They are not human. They are Devo! I always found “Whip it!” annoying when I was younger and it was all I knew by them. I’ve come to learn what a genius Mark Mothersbaugh is and what exciting performers they still are. Their costumes seemed purposeful and there was a concept that all made sense. Unlike a certain Lady. ”Whip it” wasn’t even the highlight. “Girl U Want” was a dance explosion and made for the most fun set of the afternoon. By a lot. 9/10

Biggest Disappointment: Lady Gaga- “It was some of what I hoped she’d be and everything I feared she’d be. I was ready for a big spectacle full of bizarre costume changes, massive sets, gaudy production and irresistible pop. I was ready to get caught up in it all. I wanted to. I didn’t. At all. It was shock for the sake of shock and it all came together to form a vapid performance. It was a self-indulgent Kanye-glow-in-the-dark-tour-esque production, full of eye-rolling cheesy one-liners, unimpressive dancing, an embarassing plot and a lot of fluff. Oddly sexual, confusing, uninspiring pop. It all lead to a constant feeling of waiting for a moment to take my breath away that never came and then feeling an immediate urge to leave.” 5/10

Most fun: Chromeo- Ohhhh eeee ohhhh Chromeeeeo. See them any time you have the chance. Dance and smile. Enjoy the fancy footwork. They got in their groove as the sun went down. Would have been a little better all in the dark but a great time.  8.8/10

Fun afternoon sets: Los Amigos Invisbles and Matt and Kim- Endless energy. Green man. Dancing. Naked talk. Fuzz rock. Piano rock. OK most of that was Matt and Kim, but Los Amigos were a fun rowdy bunch.

Better in their own venue, but still quite good: Dirty Projectors, Big Pink, My Dear Disco, Jamie Lidell- I wanted more time and more attention for all of these, but they all brought it. I was especially enamored with Jamie Lidell. I started recording video and didn’t stop for 8 minutes. He’s really something special on stage.

Best of the Rest: Mavis Staples was superb on her own, especially covering “The Weight,” and it was a treat seeing Jeff tweedy join her for a couple songs. The Black keys rocked quite hard as always. Sad I didn’t see more.

Lady Gaga was some of what I hoped she’d be and everything I feared she’d be. I was ready for a big spectacle full of bizarre costume changes, massive sets, gaudy production and irresistible pop. I was ready to get caught up in it all. I wanted to. I didn’t. At all. It was shock for the sake of shock and it all came together to form a vapid performance. It was a self-indulgent Kanye-glow-in-the-dark-tour-esque production, full of eye-rolling cheesy one-liners, unimpressive dancing, an embarassing plot and a lot of fluff. Oddly sexual, confusing, uninspiring pop. It all lead to a constant feeling of waiting for a moment to take my breath away that never came and then feeling an immediate urge to leave.

Gaga’s silhouette posed behind the shadows of her massive curtain for opening song “Dance in the Dark” for what seemed like an eternity before emerging. Once she was out there, it was a lot of style and not much substance. I connected with nothing. You put all the elements together and it sounds like a real show stoper. Fireworks shooting out of her breasts and fire shooting from her crotch. A car that turns into a piano that she plays with her stilleto. A monster that may or may not rape you. Topless dancing men and women in fancy bra’s. I could see that being enjoyable if the package felt genuine or if the songs were enhanced by any of this or if Gaga was a particularly good dancer or if it all added up to something bigger. It didn’t. The neon signs reading “drugs” “good food” “death” and “what the fuck have you done” didn’t resonate with me at all. Nothing did.

It felt strained to get from one segment to the next and along the way I felt completely uninspired and bored. Something I’d never thought I’d be able to say at a Gaga show. It was surprisingly similar to how I felt watching Kanye’s glow in the dark tour. While Kanye traveled across the universe looking for the biggest, brightest star, Gaga wanted to take us to the ball. And when we were there, she was going to try to … arouse us and freak us out? If nothing else, Lady Gaga confuses me. She seems like she’s trying to inspire me to be happy that I’m a freak or a monster and to enjoy being part of this little weird world of hers. I want no part of this. From clips I’d seen of her, It seemed like she really connected with audiences and had strong banter and could really reel them in. She was Kanye-bad.

5 worst lines:

1. “Follow the glitter way!”
2. “Fight for what you believe in!
3. “The rest of your life starts now. You can be anything you want!”
4. “Oh noooooo! Now we’ll never make it to the Monster Ball.” “Yes you will, I’ll take you there!”
5. Don’t rape me, monster!”

There was one moment towards the end of “Just Dance” where I felt myself start to give and dance and consider just going along for the ride, but it happened so late in the song, I lost all the momentum and was just done. A couple songs later, I looked around at the bored faces around me and shrugged and said “OK who’s ready for The Strokes?” A tiny part of me wanted to see how it would all pan out, considering that this would now definitely be my only Gaga experience, but there was a hard rocking band about to throw down on the other side of the festival. I left after 35 minutes and got to the Strokes just as they came on, exploding with riffs to “New York City Cops.” I couldn’t be more pleased with that decision.

As Time Out Chicago put it, “It’s hard to look past a woman screaming at a mechanical octopus’ monster tentacles, “Don’t rape me, monster!” I had hopes Gaga would just wow us. Put on a spectacle that was impossible to say no to.Be this pop queen goddess she’s touted as. That just did not happen. If I start calling her Lady BlaBla would you be offended? Would you little monsters defend her?

5/10

SATURDAY

9:30 am:  My sunburn has reached epic proportions.  Waking up is kind of painful, and today is obviously a day to stay the fuck out of the sun.  I’m tempted to start pounding beers to make sure I’m nice and warmed up, but this is going to be a long day.  The last thing you want on the Saturday night of Bonnaroo is for a same-day hangover to hamper your progress.  Instead, I try to force a little bit of extra sleep.

11:30:  @andlaurasays sends the day’s first text.  She’s getting her Latin dance fix with Bomba Estereo.  I would love to, but it’s way too sunny.  Besides, I have a very important life event coming up in a few hours.  I have to get prepared.  

2:00:  There is one thing on my mind:  get close for ISIS.  So, I go to This tent and get in the crowd for a band I’ve never heard of, Circa Survive.  I wish there was a better way.

I have sat through scores of crappy bands for this exact purpose, but Circa Survive takes the cake.  The fans are lame.  The music is lame.  The lyrics are lame.  The performance is lame.  Generic all around, and for whatever reason, the crowd is actually heavy with people singing along to everything.  It’s kind of depressing.  At one point, their hilariously cliché singer leans into the crowd, and then repeatedly shouts “We hold each other up!  Do you understand? We hold each other up!”  The moronic crowd goes crazy as if he just espoused something profound.  I giggle.

The good news is I’m able to gradually move up towards the stage, and on the last song, a miracle!  The lead singer of this emo shit box starts demanding the crowd pass him back towards the Centeroo fountain.  Great success!  Hundreds of emo arms fly up, and start moving away from the stage.  Lo and behold, I am literally front-and-center.  I don’t think I’ve ever leaned on the security railing for an entire show.

3:10:  The calm before the storm.  The 15 feet behind me are now filled in with ISIS fans that all understand the magnitude of the performance they’re about to see.  Everyone kicks their ISIS stories back and forth, and we communally lament the fact that this is the last chance we’ll ever have.  I feel very at home.  On a related note, ISIS, like Local Natives, has no roadies.  They set up their own stage.  Am I alone in being really impressed by this?

3:30:  Holy mother of god.  I am in awe, ecstasy, and stupor.  One of the many reasons I’m a huge ISIS fan is their amazing production value.  They layer guitars like nothing I’ve ever heard before, and on recorded versions, everything is mixed cleanly and flawlessly.  This is a more impressive feat for dark, distortion-heavy bands than it is for clean, acoustic-based bands, as distortion and feedback tend to erase or at least muddy-up any kind of harmony you attempt.  ISIS has a god-like ability to overcome this problem.  I often wondered while listening to ISIS albums exactly how the hell they were doing what I was listening to.  The answers blew my mind.

Guitarist Michael Gallagher spends half of the set facing away from the audience, face-to-face with his amps, very intently manipulating his guitar to stay in control of the feedback.  Hendrix was the first to really master this skill, but Gallagher is the best I’ve seen at adapting the idea to heavy, effects-laden guitars.  I watched bassist Jeff Caxide very intently, as the use of bass in ISIS is unlike any band I’ve ever heard.

Caxide does exactly what you’re supposed to do during the heavy measures of songs:  sticks to frets 1-7.  It’s simple, it’s proven, and it’s the right way to hold down the low-end in metal.  But, it’s what he does in their extended instrumental measures that blows my mind.  Caxide’s awesome combination of bass effects pedals allows him to essentially take the melody on bass while the guitars keep a drone to build on.  A lot of things I saw him do I thought were coming from samples or standard guitars in the recorded versions.  As their set progresses, I become more and more entranced.

And about half-way through the set, I had one of those moments where your brain clicks a little, and you get the feeling that there’s a voice in your head whispering “This is going to be important, pay attention.”  That sensation culminated with the last two songs of the set:  “In Fiction” and “So Did We,” two of the best songs from their best album, Panopticon.  The musical journey of these two songs put me in a catatonic state.  It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced.  I started to understand what my “Pay attention” moment really meant.  The regret of missing that first ISIS show nine years ago slid away.  I had absolved myself.  I got a chance to see ISIS, and they were everything I ever thought they could be.  It was like having a lifelong mystery answered.  I felt very at peace, yet very bittersweet.  This band made my life better for a long time, and they finished off that effort by giving me one of the best live music experiences I’ve ever had.  Now, they’re gone.  It makes me want to shed a tear.

4:55:  In a daze.  After shouting some incoherent yelps for encores at ISIS as they tear down their own stage, I send some kind of silly tweet to the Festival Crashers that parallels my ISIS experience to 2001: A Space Odyssey.  But suddenly, I have a dilemma on my hands.  I have this amazing, prime spot front and center at This Tent.  And the Melvins are coming on next.  Believe me, if I were at an ISIS/Melvins show, I wouldn’t leave that spot if Zooey Deschannel was flashing her tits at me from stage left.  But, this is Bonnaroo, and so many decisions must be made.  @andlaurasays sends me a text to tell me she’s close to the front of the line for the pit at Dead Weather.  I am so sorry to all of my old school rock pals, but I had to do it.

5:50:  Sure enough, after a quick wait at the pit line, and a little miscommunication by the Bonnaroo video display guys, we’re leaning against the rail up front for The Dead Weather.  A lifetime of not being this close for great shows, and here I am for two in a row.  For the first time since the opening minutes of day one, the clouds start to gather.  The rain starts in at a drizzle, but nothing serious.  No strong winds, no thunder, no lightning.  It’s just enough to cool off the late afternoon audience.  I will again mention The DEAD WEATHER is about to play.  How funny is life?

6:30:  @zackteibloom has such a fascination with Jack White that I won’t even start on that end of the performance.  Honestly, I was 100% locked in on Allison Mosshart anyway.  I used to work in a pizzeria with a big Kills fan, so it’s not like I was unfamiliar with the woman.  She just never seemed like a drop-dead sexy rock star type.  But her stage presence is incredible.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen out of a female performer.  Earlier, I wrote about Franti transcending his music with his live performance.  Mosshart transcends her sexiness with her live performance.  Her movements, voice, and mannerisms on stage are so raw and passionate.  Oh yeah, and the band rocked.  Jack still shreds when he wants.  But, the thing you come away with from a Dead Weather show is undoubtedly Allison and her one-of-a-kind on-stage sultriness.

7:40:  There’s a really annoying bottleneck that happens when you go from What Stage to Which Stage.  It was hotly debated, but in the end, Weezer just hasn’t had enough to offer recently for us to muscle into their enormous crowd.  But, as we’re working our way though to This Tent for Jeff Beck, I hear the opening of “My Name is Jonas.”  You can’t pass this up.  It doesn’t take much to talk MML into hanging out for just a couple of songs.  Shortly after a really good rendition of “Jonas” that leaves me feeling nostalgic, they start into “Beverly Hills.”  Oh yeah, that’s why we were going to Jeff Beck.

8:00:  It seems like as good a time as any to sit down.  We settle for the lawn and don’t bother getting under the tent for Jeff Beck, which is entirely OK.  My favorite part of this show was the delightful display of old hippies losing their shit.  It was amazing.  As Beck shredded, the crowd of festival old-schoolers collectively danced in a fashion resembling an ancient Celtic summer solstice celebration.

8:30:  We get a semi-decent spot for Stevie Wonder.  Conan does the introduction, but seems very nervous when he says “Stevie will be out in just a few minutes, guys.”  Just a few minutes?  What’s wrong with Stevie?

It all starts to make sense when he comes on stage about ten minutes late.  He was just waiting for the sun to set completely.  The man can’t even experience this aspect of the performance, but he still realizes how important it is.

What a special showman.  Stevie kills for two hours, and the dancing shoes are coming alive, but fatigue is really setting in, and by the end of the set, MML and I are sitting down in a sparsely populated part of the back lawn.

11:25:  I nodded off for probably twenty minutes after the Stevie Wonder set.  Once the sun goes down, and you don’t have to worry about roasting if you fall asleep in the wrong place, your body cries for a little rest.  Once I spring up from my power nap, I realize Jigga Man is next, and the second wind kicks me in the junk.  The Mix-Master doesn’t look so fortunate.  She’s also sprawled on the lawn, but seems like she’s giving up.  I can’t blame her.  By Saturday night, the Bonnaroo experience starts to weigh on you like an anchor.  She’s timid when she tells me she’s going to quit on the night after Jay-Z.  You could hear the shame in her voice.  She knew she was disappointing herself.  I made it a personal mission to not let her give up.  Deadmau5 was coming later, and I didn’t want her to have that painful moment in the morning when everyone tells you what you missed out on.  Plus, I didn’t want to let her go that soon.  Bonnaroo had become so much more fulfilling by having a dedicated, fun, entertaining, and super-cute festival partner.  I make a deal with her.  If Jay-Z brings out Jack White to debut “Ray-Bans,” she promises to suck it up for the late-night sets.  This is, of course, unnecessary, as I know if this actually happens, the Mix-Master will catch a momentous second wind.

11:30:  Jay-Z’s set is incredible.  He starts with all of the lights down, and a countdown from ten on the two huge screens on either side of the stage.  Hova is a master showman.  His command over the audience is exceptional, his band is terrific, he involves the crowd, and has enough hits to fill an entire set with crowd movers.  Not to mention, his light show is magnificent.  During “Empire State of Mind,” his skyline lights turn into a rotating helicopter view of Manhattan.

It’s spectacular.  During his extended “I see you” shout-outs to the crowd, Jay-Z pulls a girl on stage from the front row.  He announces to her that he heard it was her birthday, and gets the B-roo audience to sing “Happy Birthday” to her.  It was Maggie’s best birthday ever, and a great example of how much Jay-Z understands the need to interact with the audience to be a true performer.  Throughout the show, I see the Jigga’s beats start to breathe a little life into MML.

He keeps shouting out to Stevie Wonder and Jack White, who are hanging out in stage left.  I’m starting to feel a little bit of reality in the deal I placed with Laura, but alas, Jack makes no on-stage appearance. Seriously, you’re there.  He’s there.  Hand the man a goddamn guitar, and let’s hear this track you’ve been plugging.  What better place to debut “Ray-Bans” than for 70,000 people at Bonnaroo?  Jay-Z shockingly leaves 20 minutes of his set time on the table, a practice I’ve already voiced displeasure about.  But, he literally ends the show with fireworks.  What did you do with your Saturday night?

1:15 am: Laura tells me she’s changed her mind.  Throughout Jay-Z, I was goading her into joining me for Deadmau5.  The Mix-Master is a reasonable person.  I had many more valid reasons for finishing the night than she had for ending it, and she knew it.  But the kicker was a little guilt trip I gave her about going to LCD on her urging the night prior.  Molly time, and we’re off to fight the logjam leaving What Stage.  The mud has gotten pretty bad, and we’re getting nowhere.  I have no intention of missing any of Deadmau5, and I’d really like to catch some of Dan Deacon, so I grab MML by the hand and rush through the masses towards This Tent.

1:30 am:  My west-coast neighbors raved about Dan Deacon, so I’m feeling fortunate when his set goes a little over, and I get to see at least a few songs.   Deacon is renowned for the games he plays with the audience, and his performance-art type live show.  But by the time we got to his show I think the really fun parts had already transpired.  Throughout Deacon’s set, we move gradually closer to the stage, and by the time they wrap up, we’re within thirty feet of the stage.

2:20 am:  Definitely molly time.  Deadmau5 starts a little late, as there are some malfunctioning LED’s on his W-shaped platform of lights, but the problem gets fixed, and the show starts with an amazing energy.

Deadmau5 is a Canadian producer whose take on electronic music is refreshingly unique.  His live show is a sensational multi-media onslaught that floods your experience.  You can’t help but move and smile.  About half-way through the show, he switches out his trademark mouse helmet for a new version completely faced with LED’s that compliment the light show behind him and on his platform.  We couldn’t tell from where we were at, but I was told later that Deadmau5 drew a crowd that went almost all the way back to Centeroo fountain.  It was an all-standing, all-dancing mass of people captured by this unmistakable stage presence.  There are relatively few electronic shows I’ve ever been to that truly feel like a performance, but Deadmau5 killed it.

Everything performed is an improvised mix distinct from the recorded versions of his songs, and they are all great crowd-movers.  MML is thankfully enjoying herself.  I knew she wouldn’t regret fighting the fatigue for this.  My dancing shoes are in full effect, and I’m having a blast with Deadmau5 and The Mix-Master.  I’m getting overly handsy and euphoric at this point, but I narrowly prevent myself from looking like a hedonistic lush.  I think.  No regrets either way.  This was a very special, centerpiece part of this year’s Bonnaroo.

4:00 am:  I walk Laura back to her camp site.  She has the same disability to navigate around landmarks that @zackteibloom has.  So, this turns into a pretty long walk.  I’m completely fine with that.*

4:40 am:  When I arrive back at camp, a ruddy Bob is reading out loud to the rest of my west-coast neighbors.  At first, I’m concerned he’s gotten really badly sunburned, but the neighbors went to Gwar rather than Deadmau5.  He’s completely stained with fake blood, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic about it.  Later, when he takes off his shoes, his socks are like Neapolitan ice cream cones:  the tops are stained pink, with a brown layer of Bonnaroo gunk right below, and the vanilla white sock remaining at the bottom.  We all laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

After catching up on the day’s events, Bob goes back to reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  I love Hunter S. Thompson, and generally, I find it a little hackneyed to harp on Fear and Loathing as though it was his only work.  But, it couldn’t be more appropriate for this crew that had just rushed across the country for a little taste of the extreme end of the American experience.  Bob stayed perfectly in character while reading the scene about Hunter getting pulled over in Baker, California, and as he recited the following passage, a calming sense of peace, satisfaction, and utter exhaustion fell over me. “This is how the world works.  All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet.  What a fool I was to defy him.  He knew.  He knew all along…Never cross the Great Magnet.  I understood this now…and with understanding came a sense of almost terminal relief.”  This night, with these people, on this plot of land in Manchester, Tennessee.  The Great Magnet, indeed.

SUNDAY

10 am:  The last morning of Bonnaroo.  I crawl out of my oven of a tent for the final time.  The morning is used to pack up empty coolers, and spend a last couple of hours hanging out with my west-coast neighbors.  After a while Laura strolls up to my camp.  I think it’s at this point that I realize she’s joined the list of people that make me smile simply by showing up.  She’s ditched her rapidly-walking festival partners in favor of hanging with me for the day.  A fortuitous swing.  High hopes for the day.

12:25 pm:  We head into the festival without any specific early plans.  Calexico?  Lucero?  Japandroids?  John Butler Trio?  All seem equally appealing.  And my equally, I mean minimally.  Sunday afternoon was the most unrelenting heat and sun of the weekend.  We plop down in the shade of a tree, with no intentions other than relaxing and catching our breath for awhile.  After a few minutes, a group of Bonnaroo first-timers walk up, and ask if we’re in line.  In line for what?  It wasn’t until then that I realized our shade tree was right by the comedy tent.  The line for Aziz Ansari had already backed up about 50 yards behind us.  We thanked our new friends for calling our attention to this.  We sure as hell were in line now.

1:30:  In retrospect, the sunburned lips had to have been from this hour of waiting in the comedy tent line.  But, the comedy theater is air-conditioned, and Aziz is fucking hilarious.  In case you’re wondering, yes, there’s a new R Kelly bit, and a bunch of new shit about Harris and Darwish.  A seriously relaxing and invigorating seventy minutes in the closest thing to “indoors” that I’ve seen in days.

3:05:  Frozen strawberry lemonade?  Fuck yes, that sounds delicious.  Mix-Master Laura with yet another awesome and timely suggestion.

3:20:  We’re at Which stage.  The objective is to be close for Ween, but Regina Spektor is on first.  It appears as though the Spektor effect ends at about a 20-yard radius.  Anything outside that, and you were hearing Against Me!.  Regina is so-so.  I mean, I did already pass up an opportunity to watch Tori Amos.  Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh.  She’s much less strenuous than the Circa Survive debacle endured for the same purpose.

4:15:  The sun is unrelenting at Which stage.  I don’t know why this part of the festival grounds get so incredibly fucking hot, but it seems like all of my most absurdly overheated Bonnaroo moments have happened here.  But Ween fans don’t get whiny when it comes time for a show.  We muscle in through the departing Regina fans and get within four feet of the front railing.  Never again will I do a festival without being really close for the shows I’m dying to see.  About this time is when our new Ween fan friends from North Carolina made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.  Read about it here:

Ween was fantastic as always.  A great set list was highlighted by a mind-bending solo in “Stroker Ace,” a rare performance of “Did you see me?,” and an especially crowd-pleasing rendition of “Gabrielle.” But, Gener looked awful, and I think he must have been on weirder shit than anyone in the crowd.  However, so many factors were working against us.  About 45 minutes into the show, we were out of water and had already watched one girl pass out in front of us.  It was dangerous to try to keep rocking out that hard in that lava pit.  Besides, very interesting things were starting to happen that we didn’t necessarily need to be right next to the stage to enjoy.

6:40:  Clouds.  There were definitely clouds.

7:15:  Despite the sun mercifully reaching the horizon, we’re way too mellow to get back up and in close for Phoenix.  But, they absolutely mop up the audience.  Thomas Mars is so genuine in his interaction with the crowd, and his stage-climbing ability is reminiscent of old-school Eddie Vedder’s.  Plus, there’s something about his Parisian accent that I’m infinitely entertained by.  “Thank eu, Beuneru.  Eet is so nice to be ear in Ten-uw-say avec vous.”  Ok, his English is actually much better than that, but you get the idea.  Phoenix has more catchy songs than the casual listener of “1901,” would expect, and they are a ton of fun live.  Speaking of “1901,” they ended the set on this hit, and then did something unique.  As the song wound down and finished, the instruments never cut off, and after a very brief sojourn offstage, they came back out and picked right back up on “1901,” continuing to rock out on an improvised version for what equated to be a ten-minute encore.  So many “fold it”s.  It was a remarkable way to end the festival.

8:55:  We stop at the Lunar stage to lay back, relax, catch a little bit of the NBA finals game five, and share a last sandwich.  I don’t want to stay at B-roo for much longer, but I’m in no hurry to leave this moment in time and space.

9:40:  Only a couple of items remain outside my car, but among them are two chairs the west-coasters borrowed from me.  They were neatly stacked behind my car.  What great neighbors.  It felt a little odd to be leaving behind this campsite.  For the first time in my three Bonnaroos, I wouldn’t have minded staying an extra night.  The community still felt too unique to leave.  At Bonnaroo, you never know who is going to run across your path.  It’s a crazy puzzle with a ton of odd pieces that, as strange as they are, all feel necessary to the mosaic.

It was a van full of excited, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Bonnaroo virgins that drove ridiculous distances to get a successful crash under their belts.  It was a new friend in a Boognish mask bearing gifts.  It was a part-time festival partner with an unstoppable motor that saw everything humanly possible. And fortunately, it was also someone who carved out an even more special place.  “The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem…I’ve started to make a tape… in my head… for Laura. Full of stuff she likes. Full of stuff that will make her happy. For the first time I can sort of see how that is done.” –the real Rob Gordon, High Fidelity

I’m sunburned from head to toe, to the extent of blistering in places.  I’m exhausted and filthy, and I’m forced to retire Version 6.0 of the IU hat due to dirt and sweat overload.  But I’m so incredibly giddy on my adrenaline-rush comedown that I don’t even mind the thought of the fourteen hour drive coming.  As Kurt Vonnegut once said, “Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.”  There’s no festival experience like this.

9:50: I fully expect to burn through all of Mix-Master Laura’s Thursday B-roo mix and even into Friday before even getting through the traffic jam.  But, shiftiness prevails again, and with a few quick turns in the right places, I find a way to get out in seven minutes.  That’s right, from campsite to I-24 westbound towards Nashville in less than ten minutes.  Picture me rollin’*

Second-Half Highlights:
5.  Phoenix:  8.5
4.  Jay-Z:  8.8 (after deduction for unused set time)
3.  Dead Weather/Ween:  9.2
2.  Deadmau5:  9.5
1.  ISIS:  An extremely biased 9.7

*A retro-diary that begins and ends with nods of the cap to Bill Simmons deserves at least one footnote.

Turns out, that wouldn’t be as easy as I thought. My access allowed me to come up through the backstage area and go towards the front of the stage. Except it wasn’t so much a photo pit as it was a VIP dance party. The massive LED stage blocked a good view of Deadmau5 from the side. I resorted for forcing my way into the middle of the mass of people stuffed inside the barrier.

I recently read about a new LED mask for Deadmau5. All it did during my time in the photo pit was make a neon green outline around the mouse head helmet. I will say this. Watching a grown man dancing with a giant mouse head is hilarious. You can’t see any reaction on a face, and it makes the movements of the body that much more exaggerated. He also didn’t the get lights going on his LED stage much until I was feeling too claustrophobic to stay there. Feeling the scope of all those people in the Coliseum was overwhelming.

There is no denying the dance party and the light show spectacle. From moments I caught later, the LED stage would up being some pretty impressive eye candy. Flames erupted from the top of the stage. Combined with the sights, the beats, samples and synth tones are unique and engage the senses in a way that doesn’t require the ecstasy most of the 100k strong at Electric Daisy Carnival were enjoying. Eventually the eight hour work day and long hike from my parking spot caught up to me. I knew if I was going to make it back to my vehicle in one piece I needed to make my exit.

Check out my Deadmau5 pictures and all the rest from Electric Daisy Carnival 2010 Los Angeles.

WEDNESDAY

6:30 pm:  My radar detector goes off about .4 microseconds before I see the police car.  Thanks, buddy, where were you on that one?  I wasn’t going more than 77 or so, but I hate flashing lights…and here they come.  Shiftiness wins again.  No ticket.  But, definitely not the way you want to start Bonnaroo.

THURSDAY

4:00 am:  Arrival in Manchester.  That’s right, Texas to Tennessee, 931 miles in 14 consecutive hours, and wasted time by getting pulled over.  I’m a madman.

7:00 am:  Waking up in a Hampton Inn parking lot.  I drove all night to get to Manchester, but got here a little earlier than I wanted.  A good friend of my family’s lives close by, so I have the advantage of grabbing a last-minute shower and nap prior to going in.  Without this luxury, I would have been on third-wind already.

1:30:  Since I am no longer coming off I-24, I have apparently avoided quite the cluster fuck.  I get through the entrance in 45 minutes, but poor @andlaurasays sends me a text telling me she and her crew have been stuck since 9 am.

2:30:  Getting the camp set up, pull my brand new gazebo shade out and…shit…I bought the mesh cover, not the actual sun shade.  This is a problem.  Without a shade overhead, tents at Bonnaroo reach internal temperatures exceeding the inside of a cooked hot pocket.  The next four days just got a lot more uncomfortable.

4:00:  Enjoying the company of my neighbors from the west coast too much to go to the Postelles.  @andlaurasays continues to be stuck miles from the festival ground.  I’m advised not to wait for her, and that she’s not likely for Miike Snow at 7:30 even.  Holy shit, that’s a traffic jam.

5:30:  Diane Birch is very adorable, and has a wonderful voice.  Not a bad way to spend a Thursday afternoon, but I’m told later that Baroness was really the show I should have been at for that time slot.  Diane carries this hour on her cuteness.

6:40:  The real reason I saw Diane Birch was to be close for Local Natives afterward.  And, what do I see?  They’re setting up their own stage!  No roadies, no guitar techs.  How cool is that?

7:15:  Local Natives had a hard time winning the crowd, but by the time they start in on “Warning Sign,” the crowd is into it.

7:25:  I have to leave right after “Wide Eyes” to get to Miike Snow in time.  I regrettably miss “Sun Hands,” which I hear is a barnburner, but duty calls.  My concern about Local Natives was that their sound was too delicate for an outdoor show.  And to some degree, I was right.  The guitars didn’t sound quite as clean as they should have.  But, the vocal harmonies were still an A+ and the tunes were carried phenomenally on that strength.

7:30:  In my Bonnaroo preview post, I had Miike Snow listed as one of my sleepers for a jaw-dropper.  However, when they walk out on stage in masks and do the theatrical entrances bit, the sunshine really ruins the whole aesthetic.  They start with “Cult Logic,” which I was excited about, as it’s one of my favorites.  Killer beats, should be a crowd-pleaser.  However, half way through the first verse, they segued into “Burial.”  I love a good medley, but they should have stuck with “Cult Logic” to really get everyone started.  Regardless, they continue to kill their one-hour set, drawing out all eight of the songs in the set list into extended versions.  A new song was thrown in towards the end, and they ended on an insane 10-minute of “Animal.”  A night time crowd would have gone nuts.

8:30:  In the Bonnaroo preview podcrash, Zack and I discussed crashing Neon Indian in Austin that night.  Ultimately, we decided to ignore that idea, as Neon Indian has a couple of fun songs, but nothing that ultimately makes you think “Wow, these guys must be awesome live.”  Oh my, how wrong we were.  Neon Indian packed That tent with an unexpectedly large audience.  Their songs are much more fun performed live than on recording.  It wasn’t until after Bonnaroo that I learned Neon Indian’s front man (Alan Palomo) is actually VEGA, an act I caught at Fun Fun Fun Fest last year.  Apparently, he intends on recording another album as VEGA prior to doing anything new with Neon Indian.  I personally think this is a bad decision.

9:05:  A text from @andlaurasays.  They made it!  That’s right, only 12 hours from the beginning of B-roo traffic to the first show.  Eek.  Let this be a lesson: never, ever take I-24 all the way in to Bonnaroo.  Get off the interstate early and find a way to come in on Hwy 55.  If we actually had readers, there’s no way I would share this extremely valuable secret.

9:35:  The Dodos don’t hold my attention.   I’m sure they should, as their music shows more than just a trace of good musicianship, but this time slot is entirely wrong for them.  Their mellow, percussion-based sound needs a daytime set at a point in the weekend when people are less eager and excitable.

10:10:  I think Bonnaroo organizers get a kick out of having bands with similar names play the same time slot.  The Temper Trap and Blitzen Trapper are both playing right now.  I’m missing both in favor of hanging out at This tent and getting a phenomenal black bean quesadilla.

10:30:  I spent all of Mayer Hawthorne and the County’s set thinking “there’s no way there are that few funky Jewish dudes,” and racking my brain trying to think of any male Jewish performers that could even hold a candle to Mayer.  He has great crowd banter, and makes a lot of references to being from Detroit.  This is no surprise.  He sounds like a man that grew up heavily influenced by Motown.  Mayer intrigues and entertains.  However, I couldn’t place one of his songs if I heard it.

10:50:  The Beastie Boys!  Man, I can’t believe it took that long to think of the Beastie Boys.  Yeah, even Mayer can’t come close to the funkiness of those Jewish guys.

11:40:  The XX doesn’t seem like they should domineer my entire evening, so instead @andlaurasays and I go from stage to stage during the Wale/XX/Lotus time slot, along with spending some time at the Lunar stage with LA Riots.  Wale is renowned on the festival circuit for being a lazy performer who never seems to want his full set time.  @andlaurasays and I try to catch the last fifteen minutes of his set.  We actually catch the last two, yet he still manages to be tacky by name dropping Jay-Z’s real name.  Performing for a single hour of a four day festival must be too exhausting. When you already have a reputation for this kind of garbage, you really look like a jackass.

1:15 am:  The end of day one.  @andlaurasays and I go back to my campsite for a few beers, and I introduce her to my awesome west-coast neighbors.  After Laura cuts back to her camp, I chill with my new friends, and get the story about how half of them crashed Bonnaroo.  My boy Bob’s post-crash euphoria was absolutely hilarious.  Bonnaroo first timers at the end of day one are great regardless.  But when you’ve pulled off a great crash to get there, it’s a magnificent thing to be a tiny part of.

FRIDAY

8:10 am:  Nothing worse than that first day of waking up wet with your own sweat.  And don’t think “Oh, I can sleep through anything.”  No, you can’t.  There’s simply no sleeping at Bonnaroo once the sun comes up.  Holy shit, racecar engines don’t get this hot.

11 am:  Sleep is out of the question, shows haven’t started yet.  Due to my aforementioned brain fart about the sun shade, all I can do is hunker under whatever shade my car and tent flap can provide.

Noon:  @andlaurasays sends me a text about Trombone Shorty.  No way.  Not a chance I’m leaving my tiny little square of shade.  Not yet.  I can feel the sunburn already.

3:30:  My Friday starts a little bit late, but with Umphrey’s McGee.  While attempting to find a shady spot in the Death Valley that is Which Stage, I run across the west-coast neighbors.  I feel a little flattered, as most of them only went to the Umps on my recommendation.  The Umps are the Umps, they deliver exactly what you’d expect, and they do it well.  The daytime set hurts in multiple ways though, as it is simply unbearable during this time of day, and there’s not much shade to be had.  In fact, I think this is where the purplish sunburn started to set in.  But, the daytime spot also hurts the Umps by taking away their light show.  Major bummer.

4:35:  It is simply too hot and uncomfortable to stay on the stages without tents.  I am kind of curious about Dr. Dog, since they have been immortalized in a Mix-Master Laura mix.  Dr. Dog is cutesy.  It’s a forgettable show.  The shade of The Other Tent is what keeps me there more than anything, until a breeze starts picking up, and I notice the shade of the tree line creeping over the fence behind The Other Tent.  I can’t resist.

5:25:  A fantastic nap in the shade is ended by a call from @andlaurasays.  We meet up and catch the last half of the She & Him set.  C’est quelque chose de Zooey Deschannel que fait me parle en français.  Peut-être sa beauté incomparable?  Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Zooey Deschannel.  But I had very tempered expectations for how good her voice would sound.  Bad move.  The girl’s got serious pipes.  The set was ended by a scaled down version of “I put a spell on you,” during which Zooey transformed into maybe the most sensual, sexy creatures that has ever existed.

6:30:  Time for the D.  Coco gives an absolutely hilarious intro as JB and KG take the stage in their classic slovenly gear.  They fake break up as a lead into “Dude, I totally miss you,” and at some point rock out on a toy saxophone solo that KG dances to.  Tenacious D is a great live band, intent on giving you a great comedy show in addition to a great rock show.  However, we left the D set about 20 minutes early to meet up with one of our festival partners, and from what I understand, they ended right afterwards.  Points are always deducted for leaving unused set time on the table.

7:50:  A quick bite while we regroup with our festival partners.  I catch a little bit of Steve Martin & The Steep Canyon Rangers while I eat, but the acoustics are pretty bad from where we’re at, and I’m not paying enough attention to get a good feel for how Steve’s bluegrass project is going.

8:00:  Michael Franti and Spearhead.  I’ve already written a FC piece about this set, so I won’t harp on it, but Franti is a goddamn showman, plain and simple.  Yes, it does get a little obnoxious to hear “How you feelin’ Bonnaroo?” that many times, but it’s such a fun set.  He will definitely make you groove if the external conditions are in order.

9:45:  Thank god Kings of Leon is headlining.  I might not get a break otherwise.  Head back to the camp to hang out with the West Coast neighbors, grab a quick nap and…wait a minute…is Kings of Leon covering the fucking Pixies?!  And “Where is my Mind” at that?  First of all, if you’re a crappy, generic pop band, don’t cover bands that were fundamental to the original alternative movement.  You see, that was a movement created to combat crappy, generic pop music in the first place.  Second of all, if you’re going to cover a band that you know you can’t hold a candle to, DON’T COVER THEIR BIGGEST HIT.  As a matter of fact, you should never cover anyone’s biggest hit.  It’s a bitch move in general, akin to saying “well, this was popular once…maybe they’ll like it when we do it, too.”  And third, don’t cover a song you’re literally incapable of covering.  You think anyone in your shit band can actually match Kim Deal’s falsetto?  Damn it, the idea of a nap is gone now.  I can never sleep when I’m enraged.  I can’t believe these power-pop assholes did this to me when I wasn’t even at the show.

Midnight:  Black Keys!  Black Keys! This show was the toughest decision of the festival, but I love this band, and I wouldn’t miss them for anything after catching their amazing set at Bonnaroo 2007.  @andlaurasays is intending on catching a little bit, then heading to the Flaming Lips, but confides to me that she thinks they’ll rock too hard to allow her to leave.  I couldn’t agree more.  They start off with a lot of stuff off early albums like “Rubber Factory” and “Thickfreakness,” which makes me happier than a pig in shit.  But, about half way through the set, they bring on two additional musicians.  The Black Keys toyed with a bigger sound over the last few albums, but I was never pessimistic about their ability to completely rock the house with just two members.  The extra musicians seem to cloud Dan Auerbach’s one of a kind, madman stage presence.  Furthermore, this move pigeonholes them into playing more extended-band songs from “Brothers” and “Attack and Release,” and I think ultimately, the show suffers a little because of it.

1:15 am:  We leave The Black Keys show a little early to check out a little of the Flaming Lips’ much hyped performance of “Dark Side of the Moon.”  Yet, somehow, miss that set altogether, and catch only a few actual Flaming Lips songs.   Not a bad thing.  As usual, the Flips put on an amazing senses-flooding show, complete with montages of naked chicks in the light show.  However, Which stage is so crowded for this set, we’re barely able to see anything actually happening on stage.  I’ll refrain from giving this show a grade, as I didn’t catch enough to accurately judge it.  But, I think the Flips’ show was part of an amazing poetic combination of performances that can be the only possible justification for the ridiculous Friday night scheduling conflict.  On one stage, you have a great show being powered by the raw, no-frills stage presence of Dan Auerbach and the Black Keys.  On the opposite end of Centeroo, the Flaming Lips are putting on a fantastic, theatrical visual spectacle.  Simultaneously, Daryl Hall and Chromeo are meshing new and old in a one of a kind celebration of great music.  In the combined corners of this wonderful festival, there is a symphony going on that combines all of the possibilities of a live music performance.  There are so many ways to deliver a great show, and several are on display in a contrasting, yet complimentary fashion.  It’s a beautiful thing.

1:50:  @andlaurasays had LCD Soundsystem very high on her must-see list.  So, although I feel as though I’ve soaked up as much as my body can handle for the day, I tag along as we get in the crowd for Bassnectar with the plan of getting up close for LCD coming afterward.  Bassnectar is surprisingly entertaining, and helps me get my second wind.  The crowd was great, and in case you’re wondering, no, it’s not just a clever name.  Bassnectar’s string of insane beats is not in my wheelhouse, but still a fun show to watch when you’re trying to maneuver for the following act.  He does go a little late, but in his defense, he had no chance of drawing a significant crowd otherwise.

2:10:  The good news:  very close to the stage for LCD Soundsystem.  The bad news:  there is a scarily creepy older guy standing near us that is taking voyeur-style pictures of the girls near him in the crowd.  It’s quite disturbing.  If there was ever a legitimate reason to attack a stranger and destroy his camera, this would be the most justifiable one.  That guy aside, LCD gives an energetic late-night set.  Unfortunately, the crowd isn’t great, and James Murphy is noticeably bothered by the stream of glow sticks being thrown at him.  Regardless, I have a ton of fun at this set, dance my ass off, and end up thanking @andlaurasays profusely for making sure I fought off the fatigue to catch this show.

4:25:  Stumble back to camp.  Even the majority of my west-coast neighbors have surrendered to the wear of the marathon evening.  Sunlight is starting to highlight the horizon, and the thought that I’m only a couple of hours away from that god-awful sunshine beating into my tent is overcome only by the thought of how much the coming Saturday has to offer.

Thursday & Friday’s Highlights:

5.  Neon Indian/Local Natives:  8.0

4.  Miike Snow:  8.3

3.  LCD Soundsystem:  8.5

2.  Black Keys/Black bean quesadilla:  9.0

1.  Michael Franti & Spearhead:  9.2

@ZackTeibloom I’ve seen LCD Soundsystem open for Arcade Fire at the Hollywood Bowl. I was there when LCD played “Daft Punk is playing at my House” before Daft Punk played right after them at Lollapalooza 2007. I was there when LCD played Coachella in 2010 between Them Crooked Vultures and Jay-Z. None held a candle to last night.

It was a pantheon performance by LCD Soundsystem. One that made you feel alive. If you were there. I reviewed the whole show doing a slight variation on “Losing My Edge.” I’ll also debut the new rating system Shore came up with. Excuse all the “I was there” lines. I’m not rubbing it in for those of you who weren’t. Just listen to “Losing my Edge” while you read and it will all make sense.

“If it’s crowded, all the better.”

A sticky, sweaty, swaying sold-out sea of citizens saw it go down at Stubbs. 

“I’m not at Bonnaroo this week. I’m losing my edge.” But I was there in 2010. I was there. James Murphy came out last in his trademark white T for “Us vs. Them.”  The mob erupted as the lights went down and the disco ball shone like a 90’s Vanna White dress. He was the first one to play “Daft Punk” to the rock kids at S-T-U-B. He danced. I was there recording it.

On the way there I played a compilation CD of every good song done by anybody that’s playing at ACL ‘10. Every good song by the Flaming Lips. Every good song by Yeasayer. All the Miike Snow tracks. Every seminal LCD Soundsystem hit. Songs that LCD won’t play live. I pumped the bass for “Dance Yrself Clean” as I drove passed Stubbs. It was the only time they’d hear it tonight.

“The kids are coming up from behind.”

Actually, the kids’ parents wouldn’t let anyone come up from behind. I was there when two curly haired boys, no older than 8, were consistently unimpressed from the third row as their dads attempted to shield them from moshers whose  footsteps they could hear.

“We all know what you really want”

@Supercooleric wished for a million dollars so he could burn down Stubbs. I’ve never had that big a problem with it. Maybe I’m losing my edge. James told us to put the cameras down. Told us it would sound like shit. That we should just be there. I recorded him saying it.* I was there. I deleted it. Made me feel foolish. Realized my camera only had one minute of recording space. Recorded this “All my Friends” anyway.

After getting seven seconds of video in, the mosh pit for “Daft Punk is Playing at my House” hurtled me to the second row, center. I could read the tattoo on James’ arm. “This is our Music.” I saw the gray in his beard. I was there. I was there.

“Us and them over and over again”

Before the encore we chanted “LCD! LCD!” over and over again. I was there. I started a round of encore clapping. The long drone of “Someone Great” opened the encore. They held it extra long and kept it vague for a few minutes. I was there. I held my camera up as James sang the first words.

The crowd surfers came hard during “Losing my Edge.” I took a picture. I put it on Facebook. I couldn’t type. Too sweaty. I was in a pit. I didn’t need to stand. I could just lean. Or jump. I WAS THERE!

“But you’re bringing me down.”

Zoe Cordes Selbin cried during “New York I Love You.” It was her first time seeing them. Four nearby strangers put their arms around me and we swayed with watermelon smiles. I was there. They teased “Empire State of Mind.”

“When someone great is gone.”

I hear James and his band are quitting after this album. I was there when James Murphy said they’ll tour this fall & next summer but this is the last album. He said they’ll play until there’s a Facebook group begging them to stop. He wants to make a yazz record. Until then, I’ll be there. I. Was. There. I’m not losing my edge.

Setlist:

1. Us v Them
2. Drunk Girls
3. Yr City’s a Sucker
4. Pow Pow
5. Daft Punk Is Playing At My House
6. All My Friends
7. I Can Change
8. Tribulations
9. Movement
10. Yeah

ENCORE

1. Someone Great
2. Losing My Edge
3. New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down
4. Empire State of Mind (Jay-Z cover)

Scoring: We’re unveiling a new scoring system that @Andyshore came up with. A 5-part way to break it down so it’s not quite as subjective. Let’s see how LCD did.

Performance: 19/20 What more can I say? From the second James Murphy stepped on stage, it was a blistering dance party. He even held off the rain. “Yr City is a Sucker” was the only minor disappointment, but it was damn near perfect. My shirt was soaked, and not from rain.

Crowd Engagement: 10/10 Crowd surfing, chanting “LCD! LCD!”, funny banter and telling us to put away our cameras so we could be a part of it made this an easy 10.

Ambiance: 5/5 Some people hate Stubbs. I find it intimate for how big the bands are that come through. The kids around me were wasted, but friendly. Good, fun crowd ready to dance especially on a Tuesday night.

Set List: 8.5/10 It pains me that they don’t play “Dance Yrself Clean” or “Sound of Silver,” but it’s a great mix of songs. The fact that they play the same set all tour is worth taking a point off.

Misc: 5/5 I never mentioned how wild it really was in the pit. You couldn’t fall down if you tried. You’d just lean and be swept away in it all. It was so damn hot. Milk would have been a bad choice.

Total: 47.5/50 or 9.5 on old scoring system.

This may be the 18,000th consecutive festival with KoL headlining, The Strokes are hitting the late summer trifecta of Lolla/Outside Lands/ACL and Phoenix never seems to take a break to record.

The video by Electic Method (Remember them? They did the video for the Phish Halloween costume) is solid, but basic. You could say the exact same thing about the line-up. You’ll really notice it when they do the hour by hour schedule. Don’t get me wrong, there will be some strong afternoon sets (Al Green, Wolfmother, Mayer Hawthorne, The Temper Trap, The Soft Pack) and dance parties (Al Green, Chromeo) but if you’re big on the festival circuit, it’s not worth flying out for. It fails to match Bonnaroo, Lolla, ACL, Coachella. etc. Disagree?

UPDATE: LINE-UP IS HERE:

Kings of Leon

Further

The strokes

MMJ

Phoenix

Social distortion

Al Green

gogol bordello

nas and damian jr gong

Levon Helm Band

Cat Power

empire of the sun

Wolfmother

Bassnectar

Chromeo

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Temper Trap

Pretty Lights

Janelle Monae

Amos Lee

The Devil Makes Three

Tokyo Police Club

Beats Antique

Rebirth Brass Band

Wild Beasts

Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars

Mayer Hawthorne and the Country

Garage A Trois

The Soft Pack

The Whigs

@snoogans913 I knew going into this past week that it was going to be one to remember, but I still couldn’t fathom just how epic it ended up being. The week kicked off with a bang with the start of the conference finals between the Hawks and Sharks on Sunday, and as I gathered around my TV with my friends and Buffalo Joes in tow, I was already elated. I wait the entire year for playoff hockey, and here I was, in good company, watching my Hawks tear shit up on visiting ice. As you should know by now, the Hawks got the W that day, and the next game was set for Tuesday. I had a panic attack when I realized that was the very night that I’d be in the presence of rock G-ds at the Them Crooked Vultures show. So when Tuesday finally rolled around, I donned my Blackhawks skull cup and headed out to the Aragon.

Tuesday

I always go into shows at the Aragon with a certain sense of disappointment already aligned, I’ve been to enough shows there ruined by awful sound quality to get too excited now, but I figured if anybody could rock the Aragon right, it would be TCV. We arrived in the middle of Alberta Cross’ set and felt immediately at home amongst the crowd full of mostly drunk older males in Led Zeppelin t-shirts reminiscing about that one time they met Robert Plant after a gig in Chicago 30 years ago. I was constantly checking my trusty iPhone for the latest Hawks news as we stood and waited, but as we got further into the crowd my signal was dying. I decided that whether I was constantly updated on the game or not, the end result would still be the same, so I shut my phone off and focused all my energy on having a kick ass time. When the house lights finally dimmed, we pushed our way to the front of stage to get as close as we could to the legend that is John Paul Jones. They opened with “No One Loves Me & Neither Do I,” my favorite track off the album and rocked the fuck out of the place from that point forward.

Hommes seemed to be having a blast and Grohl never let up, pounding those drums as if he were Adam Burish and the set was…well, any poor sap who got caught in his crosshairs. Luckily there was no ref to assess a 5-minute major and Grohl continued beating the shit of his set. By the end of their encore-less set, I couldn’t have been more satisfied with what I’d just witnessed – legends doing what they do best. I couldn’t help but jump for joy as I finally checked my phone while waiting at the Lawrence L stop after the show…the Hawks had won and now were leading the series 2-0. As I lay in bed that night I thought to myself could this night be any better? It was then that I remembered I had tickets to see Conan O’Brien the next day. I slept like a baby that night.

Wednesday

We got to The Chicago Theatre about 15 minutes before the show was supposed to start and scoped out the scene. Just from gallivanting around the lobby I could tell the crowd was going to be a great one, and I wasn’t wrong. The opening comedian, Reggie Watts, took the stage at about 7:45, and had me laughing out loud for his entire set. His comedy style falls somewhere between Stephen Lynch and Steven Wright. His songs were hysterical, and his banter in between was even better – he kept changing his accent and I still have no clue what his actual voice sounds like.

After 30 long minutes that felt like a lifetime, a hilarious video starring a fat, bearded, post-NBC debacle Conan trying to find work played and was quickly followed up by the Legally Prohibited Band taking the stage, bringing the place to life before Conan finally appeared and received a lengthy standing ovation. Conan talked to the crowd about the whole NBC thing, while the crowd chanted things like “FUCK NBC” and “LENO SUCKS”, to which Conan replied “Yeah, I know.”  Despite the fact that Conan was legally prohibited to say any disparaging remarks about NBC, he managed to work his way around it.

Saturday

Cut to Saturday at 3:30 p.m. and I’m heading to my friend’s apartment in the city just so I’m closer to wherever I may need to be when the location of the show was announced at 4. The location was finally revealed…it wasn’t a venue and was simply labeled as “Marquardt Trucking Company” with cross streets but no address. After frantically searching google maps, I received a text from FC’s own @ZackTeibloom with the exact address, so I plugged it into my iPhone and we headed out. We arrived at 4:40 and there were already at least 100 people in line.

We got in line, struck up a conversation with the people we were going to be standing next to for the next four hours, cracked some beers that were handed to us by fellow fans, and waited. What could have easily been a boring 4 hour wait turned into a great experience where we met tons of cool people. At around 7:45 the line finally started moving and we were ushered into a warehouse that they had converted into a ridiculous party complete with a DJ, OPEN BAR(!!!!), giant TV screens, and advertisements for Verizon’s KIN phone that sponsored the event. I immediately grabbed as many drinks as my hands could carry, made a bee line for the guardrail and waited for The Dead Weather to melt my face off.

Sunday

On Sunday afternoon, just to be consistent, we picked up a tray from Buffalo Joes and headed to my place to watch Game 4. The Hawks won, of course, sweeping the Sharks in only 4 games. For the first time in my lifetime (or at least the part of my life that I can remember) the Hawks are going to the Stanley Cup. It’s a great time to be in Chicago.

THE PODCRASH EPISODE 8

And if you want to read along with the 2010 ACL line-up, it’s here…

We can feel good, good, good about ACL 2010. Hopefully you got the Phish “Harry Hood” reference and you’re starting to get as hyped up as I am about October. Austin City Limits 2010 outdid Lollapalooza with their line-up this year. They snagged two of Festival Crashers’ absolute favorite live acts in Phish and Muse, stacked the middle with LCD, The Strokes, MIA, Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, Monsters of Folk and Spoon, rounded it out with deeper line-up gems like Miike Snow, Local Natives, Broken Bells, Yeasayer, The Black Keys, Hockey, Temper Trap, Mayer Hawthorne and despite the sad fact that The Eagles get top billing, this is a world class line-up. That’s right, The Eagles. Just ask the dude.