Pitchfork Music Festival 2007, Union Park—Chicago, IL

Friday
This marked my second consecutive trip to the Pitchfork Music Festival and after staring at the collection of indie kids and hipsters sitting on the Green Line as it rattled its way over to the Ashland stop I couldn’t help but feel giddy. It’s pretty rare in this day and age of countless watered down summer festivals that one delivers with not only an intriguing lineup but also a ticket price that isn’t going to make you sell some blow to one of the homeless guys hanging out near the Ashland stop. Honestly, remember last year when O’s Mutante was a headliner? Well this year’s lineup was even more eclectic and obscure. So without further ado, let’s get to the music.

Slint. New this year was a Friday show. I arrived at 6pm, half an hour before Slint was scheduled to grace the stage and play their highly influential 1991 Spiderland album. Going to shows by yourself (Jim, my old college friend from Louisville, wasn’t arriving until Saturday morning) can always be a bit disconcerting, but as I eased my way to the front of the stage I saw a guy in a Hold Steady t-shirt and knew I was amongst friends. As I wait at the Connector Stage I catch my first (but certainly not last) whiff of someone’s marijuana, observe some virgin port-a-potties that two days from now will be more disturbing than Conor Oberst’s latest haircut, and take some time to appreciate the perfect weather. Finally, everyone’s favorite emcee and Hideout co-owner Tim Tuten takes the stage to kick off the festival. Somewhere in the middle of his inevitably confusing introduction where he mentions that this is the west side of Chicago and “we will fuck you up” (ummm, okay) Tuten announces Slint.

The boys from equine paradise take the stage as lead singer Brian McMahan dons a pair of large colorful plastic sunglasses that were all the rage this year with the hipster kids. Man, maybe if I had held on to the Back to the Future II promo Solar Shades I got free with the purchase of a large Pizza Hut pizza back in 1990, I could have gotten laid this weekend. Despite some sound difficulties, once McMahan laid into the sneering vocals on opening track “Breadcrumb Trail” everyone was having a good time. Leaving only seconds between songs and a few incoherent mutterings by McMahan into the microphone, Slint whipped through Spiderland just as it was meant to be played. Lots of noise, some distortion, and very little extracurricular activities (we’ll leave that for Kevin Barnes on Sunday). After bringing Spiderland to a close with the epic “Good Morning, Captain” Slint delivered an encore of sorts and jammed out for about eight minutes. Sadly, my shout-outs to David Pajo to reach into the Zwan catalog fell on deaf ears.

GZA/Genius. I next headed over to the Aluminum stage to take in GZA/Genius performing Liquid Swords. I know this is heresy is some circles but I must confess that I never really got into Wu-Tang Clan. So on Thursday in preparation I purchased and listened to all 537 albums put out by the Clan and their members so I was more than ready. Before the show I heard someone rhetorically wonder how they were going to do the intro to Liquid Swords with the little kid talking, and I suggested that maybe Tim Tuten should do it. We all had a good laugh. I’ve always found live hip-hop to be somewhat underwhelming but clear and crisp vocals had me swept up in the moment in all that was GZA. At one point I even put my hands up in the “W” symbol and was rocking to some “mutherphuckin’” ridden lyrics. When I looked around and realized I wasn’t quite doing it right I slowly put my hands down. Somewhere along the way there was a tribute to Ol’ Dirty Bastard, and enough pot smoke to make an elephant hungry. GZA was great but I think even he knew why we were all here……..

Sonic Youth. For whatever reason, Sonic Youth followed on the same stage so there was a bit of a wait for their set instead of the usual stroll over to the other stage for an immediate show. Whatever, it didn’t take too long for everyone’s heroes in the forms of Thurston Moore, Lee Ranaldo, Kim Gordon (who still looks fantastic, btw), and Steve Shelley to take the stage and perform their 1988 classic Daydream Nation. This is a good time to address the “band performing their big album all the way through” issue. I’m on the fence on this one. I first encountered this phenomenon when I saw Girls Against Boys play their incredible Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby at the Hideout Block Party last September. It has its advantages. As a reviewer I don’t have to worry about trying to scribble down a setlist during the show. And it does kind of stress the importance of albums in a day and age where kids cherry pick songs off of iTunes. But it eliminates the spontaneity and somewhat improvisation that makes a show so enjoyable in the first place. Perhaps for the World Series this October baseball can just have Kirk Gibson hit another walk-off homerun off Dennis Eckersley and pump his fist while circling the bases instead of letting the teams play it out. Yeah, I’m being whiny and once Sonic Youth ripped into “Teenage Riot” any complaint about playing an album in its entirety seemed obsolete. Great, great song. The band also sounded really good on “The Sprawl” during which I noticed a few people crowdsurfing up near the front of the stage. You almost could have convinced me this was 1995 and Sonic Youth was headlining Lollapalooza all over again. About halfway through I began to tire and anticipating two strenuous days ahead of me I decided to move to a sparsely crowded area and take advantage of the two large TV screens atop of the main stages—a new feature at this year’s Pitchfork Festival. Laying in the grass in Union Park watching Sonic Youth close out Daydream Nation was an experience that won’t be soon forgotten. I also caught a glimpse of another nice amenity of the two new large screens….people who could not secure a ticket for tonight’s show were sitting outside the fence taking in the music. Gotta love live music. Gotta love Pitchfork. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Saturday
It’s 11am, Jim from Louisville has arrived, time to get this party started. After a couple of subpar sandwiches from Potbelly’s and a purchase of a fifth of Rum to mix with the $1 Fuze drinks, we step off the Green Line noticing a rather onerous and inexplicable line slithering nearly a third of the way around Union Park. Yikes! As I’m writing this I’m still at a loss as to why this occurred. This has never happened before in my experience with the Pitchfork Festival and Union Park. Surely they weren’t going to start the show with so many people still waiting patiently to get in, right? Wrong. I can hear The Twilight Sad blaring from the speakers as Jim and I strategize our quickest entrance. Damn.

The Twilight Sad. Because of the line we didn’t make it over to the Connector Stage until Scotland’s rockers The Twilight Sad were nearly done with their set. And that was rather unfortunate too, because from what I heard they sounded good. Any sound problems from the night before seemed to be absent and lead singer James Graham’s vocals easily matched the high energy of the music. I really enjoyed the last two songs. I probably would have really enjoyed the entire set. Hey rather-onerous-and-inexplicable-line….I shake my fist at you!

Califone. Local experimental group Califone were up next at the Aluminum Stage. Their late 2006 album Roots & Crowns is perhaps their best effort in an already impressive catalog but I had to make a sacrifice on this one. Jim and I decided to stay put at the Connector Stage to jockey for decent stage position for Voxtrot—something that is much more doable and guilt-free with the big screens that were added this year. While standing there listening to Califone’s distant spacey noise, I realized something. If red-headed people will one day be extinct you never would have known from this crowd. Ginger kids as far as the eyes can see! It’s almost as if these people stay out of the sunlight for 363 days of the year, camp out in their houses listening to obscure indie rock music, and then show up in droves for the Festival with buckets of white paint for sun tan lotion. Honestly, they outnumbered the cicadas.

Voxtrot. Okay, we’re one hour into the day and so far the biggest surprise is that Tim Tuten hasn’t mentioned the Green Line in some convoluted and long-winded introduction about the importance of being “green” and living in a “green” city. Joking aside, those that don’t appreciate Tuten as the emcee take themselves way too seriously. His enthusiasm is infectious, he co-owns one of my favorite places in the city (The Hideout), and he has done a lot for the community as a whole here in Chicago. You can tell he truly loves what he does. So here’s to you, Tim. And to all you people hissing during his introductions….pipe down, you’ll get to hear your precious music in a second. And right on cue, here it is. Austin-based Voxtrot came out led by lead singer Ramesh Srivastava who looked like he came straight from a Sixteen Candles cast party. They delivered an energetic poppy set that was comprised of about half of their old EP’s and recent self-titled album. If Srivastava was nervous as he indicated after their opening song you never would have known once they kicked into album favorite “Kid Gloves”. I like Voxtrot. They’re slightly cheesy but far from dumb. Close to the end of their set Jim tapped me on the shoulder and said, “This song kind of reminds me of Sesame Street……but I like it.” Hey, me too!

Grizzly Bear. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then Grizzly Bear must have been paying homage to every band before them that has played boring music. Even Tim Treadwell would have been disappointed.

On my venture back to the Connector Stage I noticed a baby sleeping in a pizza box that still contained a piece of pizza. Just thought you should know.

Battles. Okay, now we’re having fun again. I could not wait to see these guys. One problem....we were also confronted with the biggest conflict of the day. The great British band, Fujiya & Miyagi (no seriously, they’re British) were scheduled to play at the smaller Balance Stage at roughly the same time. Tough one. After a quick decision making process that may have been potentially flawed due to our rum intake, we stuck with Battles. There’s just something about their album Mirrored that hints they’ll be phenomenal in concert. And they were. Anchored by ex-Helmet drummer John Stanier, Battles was the highlight of the festival thus far. When it comes to outdoor festivals, vicious drumming with some strong bass is always a good recipe. After a couple of hard-pounding-but-equally-crowd-pleasing songs—and a few technical difficulties—they kicked into their single “Atlas”. I’m sorry, but if this song doesn’t seep into your spine and without warning make you start dancing all over the place I don’t know what to tell you. I made the people around me leave enough space so I could fully enjoy the magnitude of this song and even called up a friend of mine who couldn’t make the show--who in turn put her phone on speaker and transformed her apartment into a dance party. Good times.

Iron and Wine. Iron and Wine was next which meant time to go and get some food. No offense Mr. Beam, I am a fan, just not a fan of hearing your music at a decently sized outdoor festival. Anyways, lately I have been telling anyone who will listen that the last Arcade Fire show at the Chicago Theater this past May was one of the best shows I have ever seen. So that led to this following exchange between Jim and I on our way over to the food tents:

Jim: Did you see Arcade Fire is touring with LCD Soundsystem?

Me: Yeah, pretty cool. Too bad they’re not coming through Chicago.

Jim: They’re coming to Louisville, you should come down for the show.

Me: Wow, maybe I will. When is it?

Jim: Either the end of August or beginning of October. Sometime around then.

Me: (Hmmmmmm).

Did I mention the rum was starting to kick in? We each had a good laugh about this conversation over some pad thai. And therein lies another thing Pitchfork is good at—food. There was a Whole Foods tent amongst plenty of other reasonably healthy options. Hey, I love ballpark food as much as the next guy, but there’s just something about listening to Cat Power while inhaling a bratwurst that just doesn’t seem to mesh. (For those wondering, they did have brats). And it was while searching for food that we discovered Mistake #2 for the 2007 Pitchfork Festival (rather-onerous-and-inexplicable-line was Mistake #1). Chipotle was highly advertised as being a sponsor of the festival yet no Chipotle tent was to be found. When I finally saw a guy walking around with a burrito that looked so completely conspicuous it could have made Of Montreal’s stage show, I quickly tugged on his arm and inquired as to where he got his hands on that. He told me the Chipotle tent was located inside the VIP tent and flashed me his badge. What the hell is going on here? What about the not very important people?! We demand equal time! (And burritos).

Mastodon. I couldn’t think of a better band to have for the 6pm timeslot than Mastodon. It’s hot, we have been eating and drinking all day, and we were just nearly put into a coma by Iron and Wine. It’s time for a pick me up. It’s time for Mastodon. I don’t even know this band that well. I rarely listened to their albums before this weekend and I probably won’t listen to them much more in the weeks to come. With that said, to see this band live is an event unto itself. Everything that has ever been said about their drummer, Brann Dailor, is true. He’s incredible. As they plowed their way through a series of songs (most of which I didn’t recognize but it didn’t matter), near the front center of the crowd, I laid witness to my first real mosh pit since probably the Clinton Administration. (Mosh pits haven’t gotten any cooler over the last twelve years in case you were wondering). With rarely anything said between songs, lead singer and bassist Troy Sanders scowled and growled his way through their 45 minute set with a ferocity that screamed, “I should probably be your last resort if you’re looking for a babysitter.” Metal fans were truly in heaven. And I’m sure there was a contingency of people who hated the idea of Mastodon being on the bill and ruining their glorious hipster-fest weekend but screw ‘em. There was not a single person near the Connector Stage at that time who didn’t love that show. Not one.

Dan Deacon. My apologies Clipse, but Jim and I decided to make our first venture over to the Balance Stage to check out eccentric electronic performer Dan Deacon. This was when we encountered Mistake #3 for the 2007 Pitchfork Festival. The allotted area for the crowd at the Balance Stage was about the width of an El train. Deacon’s set was delayed as Tim Tuten implored the crowd to step back and keep from crushing those up front. Frustrated at the delay and our inability to be anywhere within earshot of the stage, we retreated to the beer tent for some 312 time. We made the right decision as apparently the fire marshal was eventually summoned and forced to shut down Deacon’s set early due to the dangers of the crowd. Expect to see Pitchfork having this problem rectified come next year.

Cat Power and Dirty Delta Blues. I really like Cat Power. Her 2006 record The Greatest is always in pretty serious rotation on my stereo. And despite her reputation as an unpredictable performer, she seemed right at home on stage singing songs that sounded both quiet and bluesy. But for whatever reason, I just had a hard time getting into it. I hate saying it, but I’m going to have to lump Cat Power in with Iron and Wine of acts I really enjoy just not at the outdoor festival setting. Bummer.

Yoko Ono w/Special Guest. All day there was buzz about headliner Yoko Ono appearing with a “special guest”. After a long deliberation Jim and I were baffled and could only rule out only Paul McCartney, Phil Spector, and Scottie Pippen. From what I heard it turned out to be Thurston Moore which leads to me calling a moratorium on considering someone a “special guest” if they are already on the bill. But I have to write “from what I heard” because we left before her set. Hey Yoko, you broke up the Beatles, I didn’t stay to watch you perform. Let’s call it even.

One more day to go. See you Sunday.

Sunday
Because of a very fun Saturday night, we woke up later than we had planned and got off to a late start. After a few breakfast burritos, some completely necessary Bloody Mary’s, and a couple of smiles from the new cute waitress at SoPo, we headed off to Union Park for the final day of the festival. On the train we met Richard who had driven 14 hours from Ottawa with some friends strictly for the festival. Richard of Ottawa informed us he was exited to see Of Montreal who are actually not of Montreal and the New Pornographers who are mostly of Vancouver. (Yeah, I don’t think it’s a funny line either). Whatever. Jim and I were nervous because we were cutting it very close and didn’t want to miss first act Deerhunter in the event Mistake #1 were to once again rear it’s ugly head. The train rolled into Ashland and upon exiting the platform there was no line of any kind. See, I knew the powers that be at Pitchfork wouldn’t stand for a repeat of Saturday. Well done.

Deerhunter. Perfect timing had us at the Connector Stage just before Deerhunter’s set. Tim Tuten came out and mistakenly announced the band as Deerhoof—the other indie darlings who played the festival two years ago. Honestly, you can’t make this stuff up. The band emerged and any confusion that it would actually be Deerhoof was erased when singer Bradford Cox graced the stage. Enough has already been written about his appearance and that he suffers from Marfan syndrome but to see him in person really is quite striking. He was sporting a dress and a sort of large glove that had little spooky ghosts dangling on a string from the fingertips. It reminded me of something you would see hanging above a baby’s crib…….well, except for the spooky ghosts part. I think a kid would probably be better off sleeping in a pizza box. Deerhunter was really good. They played mostly songs from their Cryptograms album while Cox lurked around the stage bare-footed and howling into the microphone. It’s really too bad they got stuck with the opening timeslot and only allowed to play for thirty minutes. I think I speak for most when I say I would have liked to have heard more. If I recall last year the same thing happened to Tapes ‘n Tapes. In an ironic move given their name, Deerhunter ended their set by showing their love for animals and giving a shout-out to the soon-to-be-playing Ponys and inviting Grizzly Bear on stage to close out their last song. Grizzly Bear??? I thought I was done with Grizzly Bear! Oh well, I stayed and listened anyways.

The Ponys. Over at the Aluminum Stage, a questionable sound system showed up again while local garage-rockers, The Ponys, were playing. The sound completely went out before the start of their second song. Hey Nathan Jerde, we were just standing there for like five minutes…….give us a drum solo…give us something! When they finally fixed the problem, 20 seconds into their next song the speakers on the right side of the stage took a dive. Good thing that’s right where I was standing. This was eventually fixed but not before we headed back to the Connector Stage to get ready for Menomena. It’s a shame too, I like The Ponys.

Menomena. While listening to The Ponys play “Glass Conversation” from across the park, I began to get excited for Menomena’s impending arrival. Friend and Foe might be my favorite album of the year, and like Battles, the album gives little subtle clues that they would be a great act to see live. They didn’t disappoint. Beginning their set with the song “Weird”, they sounded very solid and really had me feeling it when Justin Harris closed out the song blaring into a baritone sax. I don’t really know what else to say about their set other than the fact that they were very, very good. Maybe the biggest surprise was how gracious and humbling the entire 3-man band sounded. Not quite sure what I expected, but due to the experimental and strange sounds of their music I guess I was anticipating a couple of art snobs or something. Not so. Instead they came off as if they were vying to get Tim Tuten’s job next year. They were incredibly gracious and took the time to mention how good Chicago has been to them. You’re very welcome.

Due to a hot sun and a brief overdose of music, we decided to take the next hour and catch up on some serious lying-down-in-the-shade time. (Sorry Junior Boys). It was during this time that I saw someone wearing my favorite t-shirt of the day: “Make Awkward Sexual Advances…..NOT War!”. This was quickly followed by my favorite (or least favorite, I can’t decide) outfit of the day when I saw a guy kicking it in a black mesh tank top that came about half-way down his chest, with a pair of black gym shorts that would have been small on Mini-Me, and sandals. Nice work. This led to a barrage of jokes from Jim and I that lasted nearly five minutes……none of which can be printed here. I then realized that maybe people-watching was more in order than taking a nap. And then about two minutes later I fell asleep.

Relaxed and rested, it’s time to check out The Sea and Cake, right? Uhhh, guess not. I’m a fan of the local jazzy rock group so I really don’t have much of an excuse for missing their set. Maybe blame it on the still somewhat-present music overdose or the guy in the black gym shorts, but after a quick bite we headed over to check out the poster tent. The sun and lack of sleep must have been getting to me at this point because the thought “$95 for this 20x24 inch Okkervil River poster doesn’t seem like that bad of a deal.” actually went through my head. Sanity returned soon but it was still a cool poster……as were most others. There is a lot of talent at this festival—not all of which is relegated to the stages. And this further reminds me of the physical activity I saw going on which I hadn’t seen before. I saw people playing basketball near the Balance Stage, some guys playing what appeared to be an ultra intense game of four square, and others throwing a frisbee around. And I only got hit twice by the frisbee. I love this festival.

Jamie Lidell. Good God, did that just happen?

Stephen Malkmus. Now comes Pavement hero Stephen Malkmus in all his glory. And I don’t want to alarm anyone but I don’t think Tim Tuten is feeling well. His introduction of Malkmus was limited to, “Ladies and Gentlemen…..Stephen Malkmus.” Someone check his temperature. I actually found Malkmus to be one of the more disappointing sets of the festival but I seemed to be in the minority. He had no backing band rather it was just him with his guitar. So instead of the riveting set I was hoping for it sounded more like…….ummm, well….Stephen Malkmus and his guitar. Pavement drummer, Bob Nastanovich, joined him on stage for some drumming on a couple songs which gave the set a bit more spark but he wasn’t around long. Perhaps the highlights were when Malkmus made a few mistakes, stopped in mid-song, and shared his quick wit with the crowd. A guy near me was requesting “Range Life” at the top of his lungs but it wasn’t meant to be. No matter, most hardcore Pavement fans seemed to leave happy.

Of Montreal. Ahhh, now here’s the performance a lot of people were waiting for. Atlanta’s poppy and psychedelic Of Montreal paraded out onto the Aluminum Stage with flags waving and lead singer Kevin Barnes wearing a red outfit that seemed almost conservative for him. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be wearing it long. I was right. Halfway through their set which featured a lot of songs from their latest Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer album he was wearing a black dominatrix leather outfit. Accompanying him on stage (besides the rest of his band) were Darth Vader, a guy who looked like that blob on the front of that terribe Hella album cover, a woman in a full gold body suit, and much, much more. Later the woman in the gold suit began scooping some sort of red liquid out of a goblet and into cups that were then given to those in the front of the crowd. She then began to rub the red substance all over herself in some sort of masturbatory fashion. I’m not kidding. The band at one point also sported football helmets and pads and tossed footballs into the crowd. They also popped balloons above the crowd which contained what I’m sure the band wanted you to think was fairy dust. Oh, and there was also some music. Even without the theatrics, Of Montreal is a fun band. I like their sound and I like their lyrics. I still really regret missing them when they came to Schubas last year. I would like to witness this musical extravaganza on a smaller scale. But I can’t help but think some of the antics are just too much. Honestly, if they had trotted out Osama Bin Laden in a Michael Vick jersey and had him throwing pit bulls into the crowd I don’t think I would have looked twice. Whatever, it’s still fun. They played “The Party’s Crashing Us” near the end I was buying into all of it and in full dancing mode. Oh, and of course, just as they were leaving the stage Mr. Barnes revealed that the leather chaps he was now wearing were assless. Gee, thanks.

The New Pornographers. A lot of people were initially disappointed when it was announced that occasional bandmates Neko Case and Dan Bejar would not be joining the New Pornographers on stage. I was one of those persons. Neko Case is one of my favorite performers. Luckily, it didn’t matter. In fact, this turned out to be my favorite performance of the weekend. Carl Newman is as good of songwriter as anyone else currently out there and Kathryn Calder on keyboards more than filled any vocal void that may have been left by Case’s absence. Their set consisted of mostly songs from Twin Cinema, a few from their yet-to-be-released album Challengers (I was one of the few that was able to sing along to these songs, I won’t tell you how I pulled this off but it rhymes with “fillegal townload”), and even a quick medley of Queen’s “We Will Rock You”. Sometimes you’ll see a band you really like and they leave such a good impression that they immediately leapfrog into “one of my favorite bands” status. This was one of those shows. And I definitely wasn’t the only one jumping up and down the entire time while they played show closer and crowd favorite “The Bleeding Heart Show.” Calder was simply fantastic belting out the final repeated chorus before the song came to a quick halt. Those not clapping and cheering began to leave the area when the band returned to play a rare Pitchfork Festival encore. And I was having so much fun I don’t even remember what the song was…….just that it was awesome. I’m giving their set a Pitchfork review of 9.4.

With all due respect to Sunday headliners De La Soul, and they deserve all of it, Jim and I said goodbyes to the 2007 Pitchfork Festival after the New Pornographers’ show. Not to mention being exhausted, I staunchly believe in leaving on a high note and I just couldn’t picture my enjoyment getting any higher than it was during “The Bleeding Heart Show”. As we left I looked back one last time to soak in all that was the 2007 Pitchfork Festival and realized that despite a few hiccups, this event is everything that a festival should be. Aside from the fantastic and fresh music, they set a cap on tickets to keep the festival from being over crowded and potentially problematic. They carefully select their vendors and sponsors to those they deem to be socially responsible. Exploitation is very minimal if existent at all. Water and Fuze fruit drinks are $1. Oh, and did I mention tickets for the entire three days were only $45? If you get tired you can leave early and not feel at all guilty. As I’m writing this, I’m mulling over whether to pay $80+ to attend Lollapalooza for solely Saturday’s show--nearly twice the ticket cost for the entire 3 day Pitchfork Festival. Somewhere in the middle of the New Pornographers’ set, Carl Newman expressed his admiration for this festival for not, as he unexpectedly put it, “fucking you up the ass.” Although far from elegant, it was right on the mark. So anyone who doubts whether an enjoyable and affordable music festival is still possible needs to keep their ears open for the 2008 Pitchfork Festival and devote an entire weekend to Chicago and this event. The baby in the pizza box will be waiting for you. Hope to see you there.