Pitchfork

Photos by Drew Katchen; Above: Nas

Hip-hop royalty reigned supreme as the Rock the Bells tour made a flagship stop at Jones Beach in Long Island yesterday. As if scheduled appearances by Nas, A Tribe Called Quest (including a Q-Tip solo set), De La Soul, Ghostface & Raekwon, Method Man & Redman, Mos Def, Afrika Bambaataa, the Cool Kids, and Spank Rock weren't sensational enough, this Rock the Bells came packed with a few surprises. Pitchfork correspondent Drew Katchen reports:

-- Talib Kweli came out during Mos Def's set and they had a Black Star reunion. People lost their shit.
-- Jay-Z came out during Nas' set and performed "Black Republican" [and, according to Billboard.com, "Success"] with him. Everyone lost their shit.
-- Busta Rhymes came out during A Tribe Called Quest's set, right at the point in "Scenario" when Q-Tip says, "Yo Mr. Busta Rhymes, tell him what I did." People in China, Estonia, and Long Island lost their shit.

Billboard.com also notes that Slick Rick, EPMD, and Pharoahe Monch made guest appearances at Jones Beach. The Rock the Bells cavalcade of hip-hop delights makes a few more weekend stops before the summer is up.

Nas with Jay-Z






De La Soul




Q-Tip with Mos Def






A Tribe Called Quest




Ghostface Killah and Raekwon


Method Man and Redman




Mos Def with Talib Kweli




Afrika Bambaataa

Top Ranking party magnate Diplo and tropical punk Skeleton kings Abe Vigoda will join forces for a North American tour this fall. The outing is billed as a Mad Decent tour, though Abe Vigoda and fellow tourmates Telepathe have no prior association with the label other than, we assume, mutual respect and admiration.

In addition to Diplo, Boy 8-Bit and-- on some dates yet to be determined-- Blaqstarr will represent Mad Decent on the excursion. We're not entirely sure what Count Dracula and pizza dude up there have to do with all this, but hey, there they are in Jacob Chabot's tour illustration.

Diplo and Abe Vigoda have plenty of summer shows to keep them busy before their joint adventure.

XL Recordings has dug into its vaults for the release of a compilation called XL Recordings: The First Chapters. The compilation collects dance singles and remixes the label released between 1990 and 1995, including tracks from the Prodigy, SL2, Kicks Like a Mule, and Awesome 3.

XL will release The First Chapters-- out now in the UK-- digitally tomorrow (August 5) in the U.S. The Stateside CD release follows on October 7, featuring a vinyl-esque deluxe gatefold package and collectors' cards for all eight contributing bands.

Live Music on T.V. this week:

Monday, August 4:

CBS: Late Show With David Letterman: Fleet Foxes
FUEL TV: The Daily Habit: the Night Marchers
Comedy Central: The Colbert Report: Apples in Stereo
ABC: Jimmy Kimmel Live: Cool Kids

Tuesday, August 5:

CBS: Late Show With David Letterman: Spiritualized
CURRENT: Sigur Ros @ MoMA
NBC: Late Night With Conan O'Brien: N*E*R*D

Wednesday, August 6:

NBC: The Tonight Show With Jay Leno: Conor Oberst
FUEL TV: The Daily Habit: Lucero
CBS: Late Show With David Letterman: Randy Newman
NBC: Late Night With Conan O'Brien: the B-52s

Thursday, August 7:

CBS: Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson: Conor Oberst
CBS: Late Show With David Letterman: Alejandro Escovedo
NBC: The Tonight Show With Jay Leno: Solomon Burke
FUEL TV: The Daily Habit: the Warlocks
SUNDANCE: Live From Abbey Road: Elbow, MGMT
NBC: Late Night With Conan O'Brien: Al Green

Friday, August 8:

NBC: Late Night With Conan O'Brien: Mason Jennings

Saturday, August 9:

PBS: Austin City Limits: Sufjan Stevens, Calexico (rerun)
NBC: Saturday Night Live: Feist (rerun)
FOX: Fearless Music TV: Gogol Bordello, Dengue Fever, Ambulance LTD, Laura Marling

Photo by Shervin Lainez

August isn't exactly a transitional season, but this particular August seems to be fast turning into a time for bands to move on. On Friday we learned we'll soon lose first-rate firebrands Be Your Own Pet, and today comes the sad news that the members of DC indie-pop act Georgie James have decided to go their separate ways. But Georgie James, we hardly knew thee!

Band principals John Davis (ex-Q and Not U) and Laura Burhenn relayed the letdown in plain terms on their website [via The Washington Post's Going Out Gurus blog]:

After three years, Georgie James is calling it a day. We're proud of the album we made and everything else that we were able to do during our time together. We are both working on our respective solo projects...and hope to have albums out early next year. Thanks to everyone that helped our band over these past few years. And thanks to those who've listened to the music and come out to the shows. It is greatly appreciated. See you around soon.

- John and Laura/Georgie James

Georgie James leave us with one Saddle Creek full-length, 2007's Places, and a couple scattered singles and EPs. Their spirit will live on in the aforementioned solo projects: Burhenn's singer/songwriter work, and Davis' new thing, Title Tracks. Davis hopes to record a Title Tracks album this fall and release it early next year, and he's already recruited a live band consisting of Merideth Munoz (Pash) and former Georgie James associates Michael Cotterman and Andrew Black.

Thanks to reader Nicole Young for the tip.

Photos by Joseph Mohan

Today we conclude our coverage of Lollapalooza 2008. 

For Joshua Klein's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Amy Phillips' coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Scott Plagenhoef's coverage, click here: Friday
For Matthew Solarski's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Despite weeks of rumors to the contrary, Barack Obama did not show up to introduce anyone at Lollapalooza. It was, to say the least, a wise move: The presumptive Democratic nominee would have gained nothing from the event, and with the John McCain campaign gaining traction with an ad blitz that attempts to flip Obama's popularity on itself and paint his appeal as that of frivolous celebrity rather than politician, leader, or statesman, appearing at a music festival-- no less one whose big headline-grabbing guest to date was Lindsey Lohan-- would have just provided his opponent more ammunition.

Unfortunately, in the wake of the Ludacris mixtape fiasco, it also would have provided Obama numerous additional associative dangers, opening him up to be tarred with the lyrics and actions and thoughts of anyone else who appeared on the Lollapalooza stages this weekend. This would have been bad enough before boneheaded, self-absorbed Rage Against the Machine fans decided to associate civil disobedience with a total disregard for safety and security, but their actions effectively made it impossible. (As our friend and former colleague Brent DiCrescenzo said in his Time Out Chicago blog: "when Zach de la Rocha complains about 'cops and politicians' at a concert where cops on horseback protected people from injury, it deserves a hearty round of Shut The Fuck Up.")

Kanye West is another artist that self-appointed cultural watchdogs would have loved to associate with Obama. The political right has done an excellent job of keeping its own mouthpieces quiet on the subject of race, gamely ignoring it. One could argue that turning a blind eye toward race (and the lower- and middle-class) isn't restraint so much as an extension of their basic political policies, however-- as famously articulated by West himself. In a country in which serious debates and discussions about complex, multi-level issues such as racial disharmony don't take place, Obama simply couldn't introduce the guy.

Tonight, therefore, it was literally all Kanye. There was no parade of guest stars, as there had been at West's 2006 Lollapalooza appearance. There was no A-Trak, or any other DJ for that matter, and therefore no chunks of time in the set given to bits of records that West produced or grew up with, as there has been at previous shows. Even West's large band-- there seemed to be eight or nine of them, many inexplicably wearing some sort of visor helmet that never served a purpose-- spent the evening clouded in smoke and shadows. Instead, as on the Glow in the Dark Tour, we got 90 relentless minutes of West.



The show's first 25 minutes were performed almost as a non-stop suite, with a headstrong West virtually attacking the crowd and setting the tone for a night in which he seemed dedicated, in the wake of the Bonnaroo disaster, to proving his credentials as a hard-working showman. The one moment in which someone other than West took center stage was his band's abbreviated performance of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" sandwiched between "Hey Mama" and the show-closing "Stronger". With West nodding and smiling and basking in the moment, it almost seemed like some kind of redemption for the guy, and a weird reminder to himself to not rest on his laurels. (Journey were everywhere on Sunday: That same song closed the Gnarls Barkley set, and Girl Talk ended his show with "Faithfully".)

The set itself was a mix between West's darker tracks and/or moments of self-examination ("Can't Tell Me Nothing", "Jesus Walks", "Flashing Lights", "Diamonds From Sierra Leone", a version of "Get 'Em High" in which his voice was filtered through some sort of anti-Auto-Tune that turned it into a deep baritone), Kanye as motivational speaker ("Champion", "Touch the Sky", "Through the Wire", "I Wonder"), and Chicago-centrism ("Homecoming", "Put On", "Hey Mama", plus "Diamonds" opening with a JumboTron shot of the Chicago skyline's distinctive, diamond-shaped Smurfit-Stone Building.) The only outright pop songs performed were "Gold Digger", "Good Life", and "Stronger". Knowing this audience, he made shout outs to the North Side alongside the usual ones for the South and West. (He also may as well have thrown in the North Shore, since a large part of the crowd seemed to be from the affluent burbs.)



West's band, despite being shrouded, deserves a lot of credit for the show's success. As entertaining as A-Trak is live, West now performs like a rock artist rather than a hip-hop one-- his songs, sonically richer than the work of most of his peers, are better suited for it, and his use of a full band means the entire sound isn't just coming from one place. The big criticism of West's production style-- that it lacks an emphasis on rhythm-- weirdly becomes a strength live. Rather than the quickly fired-off and clipped runs through tracks that often characterize hip-hop shows-- a hook from the DJ, a verse or two, onto the next one-- West and his group extended his songs like an art-pop band. His musicians created big swathes of swelling sound, washes and builds and lush expanses that allowed West himself to roam around and, after that bullying opening 25 minutes, begin to inject his personality and ego into the tracks rather than into between-song speeches.

It's what could be classified as the egomania portion of the show that is likely getting headlines today. West at one point went on to ask artists to "push the envelope, advance the design." He rather clumsily went on to point out that in other fields-- some guy in the 70s had a computer the size of a room, and dreamt one day he'd have one inside a phone was his wtf example-- accomplishing something new is always a goal. He also lamented that, unlike in other fields, the greats of music history are placed too high on a pedestal, that contemporary artists and fans are conditioned to believe that they've missed the chance to live in extraordinary cultural times, that their work and their heroes will never live up to those from the past-- a condition that has made cyclical revivalism rather than progression the norm. (Yes, I get the irony that a hip-hop artist would make the complaint.)

OK, I get that this is the Kanye West that people hate, but...hey, he's right. What's more, his cockiness, his drive-- this is exactly what makes Kanye West the world's best pop star. It's what makes him one of the few capital-I Important people making big, communicative music. It's what drives him to experiment and explore with his sound, to seek and assimilate ideas from relatively unusual sources such as Jon Brion or Ed Banger. It's what makes him-- between his "SNL" freestyle, his stage-storming showdown with Justice, his "Stronger"/"Hey Mama" Grammy performance, and that very real and, yeah, brave Katrina reaction-- the only current pop star worth watching at every turn. He's the one figuratively off his publicist's leash ("figuratively" because Def Jam seem smart enough to not to try to box the guy in); he's the one making big gestures and trying to engage with the whole of the world in very demo-split times.



Over the past few years, we've watched West and his regular-guy shtick be replaced by naked ambition and superstardom, two things that are offensive to many listeners who simply want their musicians to be approachable. We need a balance though, and even though it's hilarious and disturbing to many that West admits that he wants to be bracketed with James Brown, John Lennon, and Jimi Hendrix-- as he did last night-- if not him, who? For all the cheers that are accompanying the major-label hara-kiri this decade, the destruction of the pop star, of the imagination-jarring entry-level musician, will be the quickest route to ensuring that your kid's exposure to music will be limited to songs attached to other mediums: gaming, film, TV, internet, ads-- four out of five of which are arguably already more central to youth and pop culture than music itself.

And part of the fascination of watching West grow in the past few years, is that, well, he's grown. He's a naturally curious guy who has wrestled with fame or fortune or status and intertwined those experiences into his music-- not through a series of shell games, as Eminem did, but in very transparent and honest ways. One result is that he sometimes fucks up-- the guy is willing to look foolish, he's willing to be human, he's willing to be who he is at any given moment rather than who he wants to project.

The thing lost in West's braggadocio-- which has curbed since the Justice incident, actually-- is that he turns his accomplishments into motivational speeches, adding to his "I did it" ethos a sort of "and you can too." His "let's push music forward" functions as a chart pop version of music's DIY pleas-- not necessarily, "do it all on your own," but "go out and produce something" or are the very least "insist on something more than you're being given." Oddly then, West's talking points and his globally curious approach to his work echo the political phrasing of Obama-- and, just as with West, the ambition and drive of Obama is oddly dismissed as elitism or arrogance.

West has allowed his fame to open doors for himself, exploring fashion, architecture, music, travel, and design. It's a stark contrast to the willful incuriosity of those who use their money as a shelter and shrink their world. That same willful incuriosity has, of course, poisoned the policymaking of the U.S. Despite McCain's Obama-as-celeb ads, it's the current administration that instead reflects the self-absorbed, inward-turning, restrictive Spears/Hilton reaction to wealth and power. George W. Bush himself is an Ivy Leaguer from a dynastic political family, he's not a "regular guy"; yet somehow being giving every tool with which to succeed in life and then instead stumbling through much of his adulthood made him approachable and real rather than ill-equipped to lead. Meanwhile, the relative accomplishments and pursuits of excellence from fellow Ivy Leaguers and birth-lottery winners Al Gore and John Kerry were "elitist" and out of touch. (OK, they were also terrible, terrible campaigners.) Somehow, so too now is the bootstrap-pulling efforts of Obama.

Obviously, West is no Obama, and pop music is not politics (and sorry for the soapboxing but 13 weeks before a general election, this stuff should permeate far more of our time and thoughts), but outside of just geography, class, and race, the position each plays within his field is similar-- the internationalist who actually looks beyond our borders when their peers are more focused on regionalism; the unifier who seeks to appeal to all demographics in a culturally Balkanized America; individuals who risk alienating people by saying they have aspirations for themselves, and therefore for the rest of the country, to do and be better. Weirdly, they're each also getting blasted for those same shared impulses.

Beck's own spastic youth is in the past, but he'll get to relive it vicariously through spaz king Jay Reatard's cover of "Gamma Ray" on the Modern Guilt track's forthcoming single. XL will release "Gamma Ray" in Europe on August 11 with Beck's original on the A-side and Jay Reatard's cover on the B-side.

Speaking of Jay Reatard and singles, don't forget that Jay's Matador Singles '08 comes out via Matador in the U.S. on October 7 (October 6 in the UK). His Singles 06-07, meanwhile, is available now via In the Red.

Both Jay and Beck have tour dates scheduled for the coming months. One of Jay's is tonight (August 4) in Dallas.

Photos by Kirstie Shanley and Joseph Mohan; Above: Cee-Lo of Gnarls Barkley by Joseph Mohan

Welcome to our coverage of Lollapalooza 2008, which concludes today. Check back for reports from Joshua Klein, Scott Plagenhoef, and Matthew Solarski.

For Joshua Klein's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Amy Phillips' coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Scott Plagenhoef's coverage, click here: Friday, Sunday
For Matthew Solarski's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Saul Williams [5 p.m.]

Photos by Kirstie Shanley

As Saul Williams' band took the stage, I overheard a couple behind me talking.

Him: "Should we stay or should we watch Flogging Molly?"
Her: "Are you kidding? Just LOOK at that guy!"

It was unclear exactly which guy she was referring to: the guitarist in a silver space suit, the keyboardist in a sleep mask and Dracula cape, or DJ/percussionist CX Kidtronix, in red and gold hockey pads resembling armor. No matter. Along with Williams, who entered after a hero-welcoming buildup wearing Aladdin Sane makeup and brightly colored plastic feathers in his hair, the ensemble delivered the sartorial highlight of my Lollapalooza weekend. And that was even before Williams' daughter Saturn showed up to sing and dance in a tutu. Additionally, somebody had handed out feathers like the ones in Williams' hair to audience members before the show, increasing the spectacle.

Sometime between 2004's underrated Saul Williams and last year's Trent Reznor-assisted The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of NiggyTardust! Williams decided that being a slam poet with rock star tendencies was way less fun than being a rock star with slam poet tendencies. This was a wise decision. In concert, his Bomb Squad-esque walls of noise and aggro chanting go down much smoother when hitched to a futuristic glam aesthetic. (Not so smooth: Williams' cover of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday". Saul Williams can do many things. Singing is not one of them.)

After commenting about the fact that Kanye West and Nine Inch Nails were competing for Lolla-goers' attentions later that night, Williams said, "My whole purpose is creating music where you don't have to choose." And, against the odds, he has succeeded. In his review of NiggyTardust, Nate Patrin wrote, Williams "is one of those rare artists who justifies the notion of a hip-hop/rock interchange in a post-nu-metal world." But when watching a sea of white kids with feathers in their hair go apeshit to the shuddering "List of Demands (Reparations)", middle fingers in the air, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Rap-rock, black rock, Afro-punk: why are these things so difficult to pull off, so difficult for people to wrap their heads around? Why aren't more artists like Saul Williams capturing the public's attention?

Gnarls Barkley [6:15 p.m.]

Photos by Joseph Mohan Top: Cee-Lo Bottom: Danger Mouse

Gnarls Barkley might come across as a good time party band, but most of their songs are about depression, insanity, self-doubt, and other such party-pooping topics. It was the melancholy side of Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse that stole the show at Lollapalooza, eclipsing the early evening chill-out vibe. To answer the first question on everyone's lips when it comes to a Gnarls Barkley gig ("What were they wearing?"): Prep school uniforms for the backing band, mustard-colored sport coats over boating whites for the two main men. Vampire Weekend, watch your backs! The outfits plus the band's bouncing and frugging during upbeat numbers like "Run" and "Smiley Faces" leant the proceedings an air similar to the Nirvana "In Bloom" / Outkast "Hey Ya" video trajectory.

But the party was just not getting started. These "fun" songs felt labored, like everybody was trying too hard-- except for Danger Mouse, who looked like he'd rather be in a recording studio as he hunched over a keyboard or organ or glockenspiel (for the Violent Femmes cover "Gone Daddy Gone"). Cee-Lo danced a bit and exhorted the funky people in the house to make some noise, etc., but he didn't seem completely comfortable. Introducing mega-hit "Crazy", he said wearily, "you've probably heard this song."

When things slowed down, however, it was a different story. Cee-Lo's voice is a formidable instrument, a wheezing yelp that almost doesn't seem human. For the beginning of the mournful "Who's Gonna Save My Soul?", the rest of the band departed, leaving just the two Gnarls principals on stage. Backed only by Danger Mouse's organ, Cee-Lo was given room to stretch out and display the true power of his pipes. They followed with a cover of Radiohead's "Reckoner". It might not seem like it would work on paper, but when Cee-Lo grabbed hold of that gorgeous melody, I got chills.

Mark Ronson [7:15 p.m.]

Photos by Joseph Mohan. Top: Mark Ronson Bottom: Rhymefest

Mark Ronson sure is a nice guy. He gets a plum Lollapalooza slot, right before Kanye, and he gives it away to his friends. This was the last show on his tour in support of Version, his lackluster (yet hugely popular, at least in Britain) 2007 collection of R&B/soul covers of primarily indie rock tunes, featuring a different guest vocalist on every track. Big stars like Amy Winehouse, Lily Allen, and Robbie Williams put in work on Version, but they were nowhere to be found at Lolla. The most famous face on stage was Ronson himself.

After introducing his huge band (string section, horn section, drummer, and conga drum player) with an instrumental medley of the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" and Maxïmo Park's "Apply Some Pressure", and trying unsuccessfully to get the crowd to sing along with the latter, Ronson brought out some guy named Tiggers to murder Britney Spears' "Toxic". It was deadly...until Rhymefest showed up to save the day. Filling in for the late Ol' Dirty Bastard, who raps on the Version take on "Toxic", the Chicago MC amped up his hometown crowd with his electric stage presence. By the time Rhymefest dove into the crowd, the audience was eating out of his hand. Though it was rumored that a Kanye appearance was imminent, the man never showed, even when Rhymefest launched into their collaboration "Brand New", from his overlooked 2006 album Blue Collar.

But as soon as Rhymefest left the stage, a charisma void set in. Liverpool songstress Candie Payne filled in for Lily Allen on a cover of the Kaiser Chiefs' "Oh My God", perennially unlucky Neptunes collaborator Kenna butchered Ryan Adams' "Amy", though he had better luck with his own "Out of Control", and Australian crooner Daniel Merriweather sucked all the bile out of the White Stripes' "You Don't Know What Love Is". Then it was time for an instrumental version of Coldplay's "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face", anchored by a trumpet playing the lead melody. Ugh.

For some reason, Ronson gave the largest chunk of his set to Philadelphia hipster rap duo Plastic Little, who blew through  M.O.P.'s "Ante Up", Ronson's "Ooh Wee" (what, Ghostface, Nate Dogg AND Trife were all busy?!), and their own "The Jump Off". They didn't leave much of an impression.

After all that, it was actually a relief when Alex Greenwald of pop-punk band Phantom Planet stormed the stage in true rock star fashion. Though his and Ronson's cover of Radiohead's "Just" is dreadful, Greenwald knows how to work a crowd, throwing his mic stand around, jumping into the pit, and climbing scaffolding. Greenwald brought the rest of Phantom Planet on stage for a run through their hit "California" (aka "The O.C." theme song) with Ronson on piano. As a huge sucker for that song (and anything related to "The O.C." in general), I have to admit, it was pretty sweet.

London soul singer Tawiah took Amy Winehouse's place on the Zutons' "Valerie", and sound-wise, you couldn't tell the difference. Then everybody came out to dance and clap along with Daniel Merriweather's take on the Smiths' "Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before".

To be honest, I gotta hand it to Mark Ronson. The whole thing was a huge clusterfuck, the music was mostly terrible, and the crowd didn't know the words to songs that might have been huge hits in England, but barely registered here in America. But Ronson himself came across as goofy and likeable, just a big dork who throws genre distinctions to the wind and wants all types of pop music to be friends with each other. Sure, it was cheesy. And I'd never in my life prefer Ronson's versions of these songs to the originals. But Ronson's enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help grinning.

Aha, that's more like it! Those feeling a little stiffed by the meager offering of live dates David Byrne served up a short while back can rest easy: the Talking Head has revealed the first leg of a generous world tour, set to storm the States and Canada as summer turns to fall.

This is, of course, the "Songs of David Byrne and Brian Eno" tour-- which, it bears repeating, features David Byrne but not Brian Eno. Instead, Byrne will focus on Talking Heads and My Life in the Bush of Ghosts material created in conjunction with Eno. I guess you could say he'll be there in spirit.

Look for the North American leg of Byrne's journey to kick off September 16 in Pennsylvania and wrap up November 8, also in Pennsylvania. Mr. Byrne then intends to hit up "Australasia" in early 2009 and Europe this coming March, though those dates have yet to materialize.

What has materialized: "Strange Overtones", the previously mentioned free download off Byrne and Eno's forthcoming Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, which you can nab here now with but the click of a mouse and the sacrifice of an email address (which the guys promise not to use for nefarious purposes). Everything is due in download and stream form August 18, with its physical counterparts slated for release "later in the fall." Cool beans.

Photos by Kirstie Shanley and Joseph Mohan; Above: The National by Kirstie Shanley

Welcome to our coverage of Lollapalooza 2008, which concludes today. Check back for reports from Joshua Klein, Amy Phillips, and Scott Plagenhoef.

For Joshua Klein's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Amy Phillips' coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday
For Scott Plagenhoef's coverage, click here: Friday, Sunday
For Matthew Solarski's coverage, click here: Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Brazilian Girls [2:15 p.m.]

Photo by Kirstie Shanley

As Sabina Sciubba strutted on stage in a lacy white getup heavy on the fabric, parasol in hand, hair and makeup done up like Bow Wow Wow's Annabella Lwin, the dusty fields on the south end of Grant Park suddenly felt infused with all sorts of alien and surreal energies. The song was "Strangeboy", and as its otherworldly sounds filled the air I was thinking about punning on genres. Brazilian Girls' brand of polyglot pop isn't world music-- it's otherworld music! Because it's otherworldly! Get it?

:-(

Thankfully the allure of that idea wore off right along with "Strangeboy"'s trance state. Un-thankfully, the Girls' more eccentric and cabaret-esque material began to give way to a stream of their meandering, largely chorus-less offerings, which seemed to lull everyone into a lifeless groove. And then, inevitably, there was silly signature song "Pussy", followed by the requisite gasps and cheers. "Pussy, pussy, pussy"? More like lazy, lazy, lazy.

Black Kids [3:30 p.m.]



Photos by Joseph Mohan

Black Kids, what mixed signals you send us! You call yourselves "kids" and write endearingly precocious pop songs like "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You", then you sing about giving head to statues and implore us to "Listen to your body tonight/ It's gonna treat you right." Your vocalist sounds like Robert Smith on one tune, then Richard Butler on the next. You give away four awesome songs, and now you're trying to sell us six more not so awesome ones.

I guess it's only fitting, then, that this mid-afternoon set was a mixed bag. "Boyfriend" and "Hurricane Jane" provoked ebullient sing- and dance-alongs, and folks were generally receptive, but by the latter third of the set the band was visibly fatigued. Reggie Youngblood can sing, but he often got over-excited and missed the mic slightly, resulting in an uneven vocal sound.

But I do want to take a moment to spotlight keyboardist/backing vocalist Ali Youngblood, whose wide smiles and mischievous big-eyed glances feel genuine and collectively comprise a charm that goes a long way to redeem this band.

Love and Rockets [6:15 p.m.]



Photos by Kirstie Shanley

If there's an audience clamoring for the reemergence of Love and Rockets, that audience wasn't gathered around the Bud Light stage at quarter past six yesterday. Apart from a few scattered bouncers and hand-wavers and swayers, most of the folks in the first couple dozen rows-- many decked out in NIN regalia awaiting the band's headlining set, including at least one gal with the words TRENT REZNOR IS GOD scrawled across her chest and stomach in black marker-- simply stood by and took in this serviceable set with polite indifference while batting a few beach balls about.

Even a personal introduction from Perry Farrell himself-- who declaimed he has been "in love with" Love and Rockets since he was young-- and lively renditions of "It Could Be Sunshine" and "Kundalini Express" failed to really rouse the crowd. Then the grim realization sunk in that without any backup singers or extra microphones in sight, we probably weren't going to hear Love and Rockets' one big hit, "So Alive" (we didn't), and I was all but ready to write this one off, and perhaps suggest that it really ought to have been a big Bauhaus farewell show instead.

And then... this happened:



And it was awesome.

The National [7:15 p.m.]



Photos by Kirstie Shanley

Irony? As I was walking away from a prime spot for the Nine Inch Nails set, the National's Matt Berninger began singing over yonder, "Walk away now, and you'll start a war." And indeed, the internal conflict was something fierce, but I had my assignment-- and heck, I like the National too-- so victory in this war was theirs.

Indeed, I like the National enough that I forgive the occasional dud lyric, though I have to wonder if even Berninger feels a little embarrassed when he sings a line like, "I'm sorry I missed you/ I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain." But hey, at least that song-- Alligator opener "Secret Meeting"-- gives the man a chance to really let loose with the yelling, something he doesn't really get to do with any of the material off last year's excellent Boxer.

Berninger would get that chance two more times, including an electrifying finale of Alligator closer "Mr. November". Rather than go the obvious route in light of the band's recent t-shirt campaign, Berninger instead announced that he was not dedicating the song to John McCain.

But it was during the much more subdued and melancholic "Racing Like a Pro", whilst panning a sea of sun-battered but smiling faces, that it occurred to me: what more perfect post-festival comedown music could one ask for? I even considered skipping NIN altogether, so that I might savor the mood of this moment on the long ride home. I'd ultimately opt to let Trent Reznor shatter that serenity, but what a sublime serenity it was.