Pop 'stache

Saturday:

The next day, I started at the same stage I finished at the night before—the Google+ stage. In retrospect, I was probably there more than I was anywhere else, a trend I didn’t mind considering the smaller size and many shaded areas. Although, as I approached the stage to catch An Horse‘s set, the shade wasn’t needed: gray clouds covered the sky, which proved to be ominous foreshadowing for the monsoon that was coming…

But for the moment, all was well as An Horse played an efficient and entertaining set. The Australians boast a decidedly unpretentious sound, their uncomplicated brand of bedroom indie rock proving to be a nice deviation from the grandiosity of the likes of Coldplay. In fact, it was just the shot in the arm festival needed. Sometimes it’s easy to overlook acts such as An Horse, who are modest in nature but nonetheless do what they do extremely well. Such was the case during their 1 p.m. set, as the band jetted through a collection of understated but clever tracks, such as “Trains and Tracks” and “Dressed Sharply.”

Chicago’s Maps & Atlases immediately followed, proving to be a complete one-eighty from An Horse’s humble pop musings. Often placed in the genre of math rock, the band’s set was certainly precise and intricate. But they make it look easy: tracks like “Israeli Caves” and “The Charm” breezed by with ease. Singer Dave Davison’s unique vocal styles—which usually finds him wailing and bellowing—take on a soulful, almost Aaron Neville-ish quality in the live setting, adding to a unique and enjoyable set from the up-and-coming band.

I ditched Maps & Atlases’ set a little early to get a good spot for Black Lips, a band I hate that I enjoy so much. There’s something about them that’s just a little too trendy, but their music is so undeniably infectious, that even when they appear to be trying too hard, it’s impossible not to enjoy. Thankfully, their live show went exactly as I would have hoped: fast, energetic and just sophomoric enough to avoid being annoying. The crowd ate it up, as well, particularly during “Bad Kids,” the perfect anthem for a bunch of white kids from Michigan to dance and push each other around to. The most surprising aspect of the set, however, may have been how well the band has harnessed their live sound. Of course, this is punk rock: it’s never going to be technically proficient, and Black Lips definitely aren’t the most traditionally skilled band around. But they utilized a unique “vocals by committee” style, in which anyone who felt like singing can and did. That, coupled with the band’s trademark antics—which included shotgunning beers, throwing toilet paper at the crowd and vomiting on the stage—made the set one of the weekend’s very best.

Not long after Black Lips finished up, Death From Above 1979 started their set. I was a fan of their album, You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine, when it was released in 2004, but it soon faded away after their untimely breakup in 2006. Apparently, the same can’t be said for everyone else as DFA’s reunion has been the most hyped in years, causing near-riots at South by Southwest. Considering how the band seemingly fell away from the public conscious for so long, it struck me as strange that there would be this much hype surrounding their reunion. Drummer and vocalist Sebastien Grainger might feel the same way: At one point he asked the crowd, “Who was at our show at the Metro last night?” which was answered with cheers and applause. He followed it up with, “Who was at our show at the Empy Bottle, six years ago?” Noticeably far less applause. And then: “Does anyone here even know what the Empty Bottle is?” Veritable silence. Considering the average Lolla-goer was likely in middle school during their set at the Empty Bottle, the query rang like a confession of defeat. The set was whatever—a predictable set of songs, played very loudly. There was a big crowd, but save for devotees up front, everyone seemed pretty disinterested. Including myself. I moved on.

Cee Lo Green was next. It was a strange performance, beginning with something of a jam session from Cee-Lo’s bikini-clad all-female band before the man himself took the stage, adorned with a pair of shoulder pads that had two-foot spikes protruding from them. He screamed incoherently into the microphone before kicking into a cover of Danzig’s “Mother,” befuddling the huge crowd that had gathered to hear him play “Fuck You.” After an assortment of half-assed cover songs and cuts from his DJ (which included snippets of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and other notable rock tracks) he finally made his way to a skeletal version of the hit track, rarely singing into the microphone and never hitting the right note when he did. After that, he finished his set 15 minutes early and told the crowd to stick around for Eminem. 

So I did. I’ll admit I used to really like Eminem. The 7th-grade-me was titillated at the possibility of hearing songs like “The Real Slim Shady” and “The Way I Am” performed live. And while he did delve into an assortment of his classic tracks, Mr. Mathers managed to touch upon a number of his recent hits as well, usually performing a single verse of a track to keep the pace of the show flowing.

He had complete command of the audience, which had to be pushing upwards of 70,000 people.

There are very few hip-hop artists who can draw that kind of crowd, let alone keep the show on-point and energetic for the duration. Eminem is in that rare class of rapper (alongside the likes of Jay-Z and Kanye West) who possesses both the charisma and the material to headline a major festival. Though it may have been an unpopular booking among the hipster crowd, those who witnessed the set were treated to nothing less than a spectacle. Plus, Bruno Mars was there, if you’re into that kind of thing.