Sounds under the sun

The second annual Pitchfork Music Festival offered plenty of highs, a few lows

By Jeremy Schnitker

Photos by Vince Samford

There was a lot of action at the second annual Pitchfork Music Festival from July 13-15, so I'll keep the intro brief and just jump right into things.

I won’t spend a great deal of time focusing on Friday night, because there’s not much new perspective to put on albums that each came out over a decade ago. GZA’s “Liquid Swords” set, like most live hip-hop acts (Wu-Tang ones, especially) severely lacked focus. From my vantage point, it looked as if a bunch of guys on stage were screwing around. I missed Slint altogether and caught the beginning of Sonic Youth playing their classic double album “Daydream Nation.” Not being overly familiar with the seminal ’80s underground act, I didn't know what to compare the sound to. But the crowd was elated, and the group looked as aggressive as they likely were in 1988, when “Daydream Nation” was released.

 

Here are my notes from Saturday and Sunday:

Act that put me to sleep: Grizzly Bear. These freak folkers play music that’s just too delicate for an outdoor festival. The sound on the two major stages was weak Friday and Saturday, and that didn't help matters for these guys. Most of their soft, rambling set was unintelligible.

Act to incite a mosh pit: Mastodon. These metal revivalists tore the afternoon crowd open after Grizzly Bear tried to sedate them. This band, which is likely the heaviest ever booked for this festival, is the very type of fist-in-the-air, spit-in-the-sky rock that you want to hear at an outdoor summer festival. One of the group’s guitarists actually did spit in the sky (and he caught the loogie with his hand!)

Act I didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about: Girl Talk. One-man mash-up specialist Greg Gillis sounded like a guy merely spinning top 40 hits at a house party. Of course, he did it with loads of manic energy and a stage full of street-clothed dancers. But after seeing him perform for the first time, I don’t really understand where all the perceived artistic integrity with this guy comes from. How much skill does it take to play bits and pieces of classic records and get people to dance to them?

Act I had absolutely no desire to see: Yoko Ono. Don’t really understand this Saturday night headliner. Aside from the 20 or so people in the crowd who were actually familiar with Yoko’s wacky solo material and enjoy it, the only reason people stuck around for this set was to say they got to see John Lennon’s widow in person.

Acts that Pitchfork Media invited to the festival, but didn’t review too kindly in their online magazine: Yoko Ono and Voxtrot. Ono’s “Blueprint for a Sunrise” got a 5.6 out on a 10-point scale in 2001, and the recent release, “Open Your Box,” got a 6.7. Texas-based brit poppers Voxtrot got a 5.9 for their self-titled debut earlier this year.

Act that had a distinctly America pop sound but featured mostly Canadian members: The New Pornographers. This commercially underrated band writes perfect pop rock ballads. But the fact that sometimes member Neko Case (my indie rock crush) wasn’t on stage left me unsatisfied.

Most unusual act: Battles. These noise rockers use just about every method possible to create truly bizarre sounds, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t some of the most intense and intriguing stuff I heard all weekend.

Act whose frontman looks woefully skinny: Deerhunter’s Bradford Cox. Cox, who stands 6-4, suffers from Marfan syndrome, a genetic disorder of the connective tissue that gives him abnormally long and spindly limbs. However, the band’s dense, experimental sound has enough brawn to go around.

Act that I was worried wouldn’t translate well in an outdoor setting but did: Junior Boys. Opening with the infectious “The Equalizer,” this artsy synth group put any doubts as to whether they could pull a festival show off to rest from the get-go. They sounded robust and crisp with the massive sound system behind them, and almost got large chunks of the crowd dancing.

Act that could have caused the crowd to erupt but for some reason chose not to: Of Montreal. This eccentric Athens group can be all over the map with its live shows. When they’re on, they’re able to whip the crowd into a dancing frenzy. Other times, it seems they’re too bizarre for their own good. It wasn’t so much that this set was subpar, it’s just that if they’d gone with more upbeat material, I think they crowd would have gone bananas. They seemed primed to do so.

Chicago acts that shined: The Ponys and The Sea and Cake. The Ponys fought through early sound difficulties to eventually put out a vicious set of garage-fused post-punk. The Sea and Cake proved to be the perfect late-afternoon act. Taut, yet delicate, these four guys lull you into a blissful coma. This band showcases some of the best pure musicians in town.

Act that, hands-down, was the best of the show: De La Soul. Yeah, kinda of an unoriginal pick since they were the closing headliner Sunday night. The last band is usually supposed the best one, right? But I’d be dishonest if I said anybody else put on a better show than these hip-hop legends. They came out with energy, command and beats that could have shaken the rafters at the United Center four blocks away. These three New Yorkers were the undisputed pros of the weekend and the only act to truly get the audience involved. They even got a little stage help from Prince Paul, the renowned producer who recorded De La’s debut “3 Feet High and Rising.”

Improvements needed for next year: More beer tents and porta-potties. Toward the end of each night, the lines for both were excruciatingly long. Re-admittance to the fest would be nice. Once you left, you couldn't get back in for that day. Sometimes when you’re spending an entire day packed in park with 17,000 other people, you need to take a step outside and get some fresh air for a moment (and a toilet that flushes).

Things that should stay the same: The cost. Compared with other like-minded festivals, everything about Pitchfork is staggeringly cheap, from the ticket costs ($50 for all three days), beer ($4), food and water ($1). I’d personally appreciate it if next year they booked more true rock bands, but it was hard to complain about the Sunday main-stage lineup, which was stacked with must-see acts.

Other tidbits about the fest: Though technically in its second year under the “Pitchfork Music Festival” moniker, the concert has existed in essence for three years. Pitchfork helped curate and promote the Intonation Music Festival in 2005. The music zine Pitchforkmedia.com, which is based in Chicago, was formed in 1995. Union Park has acted as the festival’s home all three years. The park was created in 1853 and is notable for becoming one of the first racially integrated parks in the city. Between the 1920s and ’50s, it was well-known for hosting cultural events such as concerts featuring gospel musician Thomas A. Dorsey, trumpeter Sunny Cohn and jazz pianist Ramsey Lewis. Local microbrewery Goose Island provided the beer for the weekend. The kegs didn’t have to travel too far. Goose Island has a brewery just a couple blocks from Union Park at 1800 W. Fulton.

 

A second opinion

By Dan Ochwat

The sound
The Pitchfork Music Festival proudly put out the best sound for its first two years, but something went wrong this year. Sonic Youth’s legendary set received calls of “Turn it up!” on Friday night, but that could’ve been because of the size of the crowd and playing late at night. So they get a pass there, but the third stage, the Balance Stage, was a disaster. The first two fests used this “third stage” as the Biz3 tent. Mainly DJs and dance acts played to a smaller, dance-heavy crowd on the narrow street it possesses. This year, they set up an actual smaller stage and played it open down the narrow street, in that packed, thin bit of space. And guess what, they put some of the most highly anticipated acts in this small space, and you couldn’t hear a thing unless you were standing in the first four rows.

Fujiya & Miyagi, Professor Murder and Oxford Collapse fell victim to the terrible sound at the Balance stage. Then, there was Dan Deacon who put on the best show you never saw. He played his DJ set from the ground, so only the crowd nearest him could see ... and hear ... and dance. Sure, you get bass lines, but it dampened the mood of the day. There was a lot of murmuring going on about how bad the sound was. Actually, they weren’t murmurs, as you could hear the complaints clearly over the deadened sound.

The people
Sort of the “it” scene for hipsters, the Super Bowl weekend for Chicago’s coolest kids, at least in their minds, the Pitchfork Music Festival does gather the best crowd. Hilarious t-shirts, sweet vintage outfits and even a guy dressed like Peter Pan could be seen on the fairgrounds.

One point to make: Some dress is just not appropriate for nearly 90 degrees outside, and I know you worked on this outfit all year waiting for this festival, but c’mon. For the guys, wool ski hats are not a good choice for an all day festival in the sun. I know those hats look cool with your long, scraggly hair flowing out the back, but trapping that heat on your head gaurantees that you’ll be seeing spots. For the women, nylon stockings with short shorts is sexy, not when the man has to dream about the sweat and stench building beneath. Same goes for cowboy boots — sooo sexy, sooo unpractical. Tour the first-aid tent to see some other unwise calls.

The performances
On Day Two, Battles won the battle. It was an hour-long jam session that completely rocked the crowd. If you hadn’t heard of Battles going into the show, I’m sure you’re holding the disc now. Versions of “Atlas” and “Tonto” were everything they expected to be live. And watching the drummer soak through his Brooks Brothers pink dress shirt was validation for you soaking through your Neighborhoodies t-shirt.

Rappers Clipse got the crowd pumped, as all hip hop acts do, but it was strange to hear them lead you into Cat Power’s sultry set of cover songs, and some new ones. Grizzly Bear was excellent as usual, despite sound difficulties, and the Twilight Sad opened the show with a stirring set that no one could see because, for some reason, Pitchfork is always slow to get you into the festival. The morning lines were ridiculous as usual. The rule stands: Camp out early or show up late, but never get to Pitchfork on time.

 

Califone, Battles share some Chicago connections — but that’s about it

By Eric Edholm

The great wonder of eclectic festivals such as Pitchfork is that one can, if inclined, watch incongruous acts ply their crafts in close proximity — one stage over, or an hour or two apart. And that kind of fun experiment was in full proving ground with the afternoon set by Chicago band Califone, who were followed two hours later by New York-based math rockers Battles.

Califone drew a hearty crowd considering most folks didn’t arrive until later in the afternoon, and the band’s enchanting blend of roots rock and jazzy-flecked pop was the perfect antidote to a warm, sun-bleached field. The smooth tones of front man Tim Rutili (formerly of Red Red Meat and umpteen other cool side projects) — a Chicagoan who spends most of his year in Los Angeles now — the groove of painfully underrated percussionist Ben Massarella and a four-piece horn section were a welcome surprise, especially given that Califone has toured lightly this summer, and not since mid-June.

The biggest complaints with their set were that their set was short (five songs, just over 30 minutes), late (about 15 minutes late; blame Yoko Ono and her soundcheck) and didn’t include two of the best tracks from “Roots and Crowns,” their strong effort from last year — “A Chinese Actor” and “Orchids,” a dainty cover of the Psychic TV song. But the lilt of avant-garde Americana and the brassy, atonal hum of the horns were enough of a salve to make Califone’s brief appearance — we’ll take what we can get — a successful one.

While we’re on the subject of marriages, the sound of semi-supergroup Battles weaved elements of the members’ former endeavors (former Don Caballero guitarist Ian Williams, also a former Chicagoan; ex-Helmet drummer John Stanier; guitarist Dave Konopka, who played in Lynx; and keyboardist/guitarist/vocal trickster Tyondai Braxton, who played in Prefuse 73 and Parts & Labor previously and is the son of jazz artist Anthony Braxton).

But Battles also managed, during their hour-long set, to evoke the warm, prog-rock tones of King Crimson and Soft Machine, the amplitude and quirky beats of Kraut bands such as Can and Kraftwerk as well as the speedy thrust of more recent (and local) acts such as Shellac and Ministry.

And yet, the fun is that Battles’ sound is all their own. In just over four years, following three EPs, plus one full-length release this year, “Mirrored,” which is an unchallenged success for the proto-electronic-rock quotient out there, they finally have come into the spotlight and no doubt will benefit as much as any band at the festival.

Braxton is the unintentional leader of the band, and he stood forward most with his pitch-bending vocal stylings to go along with his double-duty keyboards. The set-closing “Leyendecker” provided the weirdest of that, with his chipmunkish vocalization over layered beats.

Different bands, Califone and Battles. Tres different. A great example of just how diverse a day at Pitchfork can be.

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