Sunday:
The last day of Lollapalooza looked to be perhaps the most promising for yours truly. I started my day with Rival Schools, a post-hardcore comprising some of the most influential artists of the hardcore genre, although Rival Schools is a decidedly less chaotic offshoot of the likes of Gorilla Biscuits and Youth of Today. The band played for the smallest crowd I saw all weekend, but those in attendance were clearly enjoying themselves. The band doesn’t have a ton of material to go off, but they hit all the right marks with songs like “Everything Has its Point” and “Undercovers On.”
After watching The Cool Kids perform at Perry’s stage but finding myself unable to endure the stench of sweat, mud and weed, I wandered back to the Google+ stage to see Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., a Detroit band with a penchant for spaced-out pop and slick guitar riffs. The band was surprisingly nimble live, doing their best to match the expansive sounds on their only album, It’s a Corporate World. The idea of corporations seemed to be a theme, as the band donned T-shirts that read “Your Ad Here,” clearly poking fun at the advertisement-fueled festival. But the band isn’t about cynicism. They breezed through a collection of their infectious tunes (including “Vocal Chords” and “We Almost Lost Detroit”) while informing the audience that, after their set, they planned to roam the fest and hide bottle of Dom Pérignon in the porta-potties. They capped off their set with a clever cover of Steve Winwood’s “Higher Love,” sending the crowd into a danceable frenzy.
Then, things got crazy. I took a short breather at the press tent before heading back to the Google+ stage, yet again, to take in Best Coast. As I awaited the band, chatting with assorted concertgoers about the prospect of a storm breaking out, it started to slowly drizzle. The drizzle turned to a downpour.
As lead singer Bethany Cosentino took the stage and proclaimed, “Fuck you, we’re Best Coast. It’s raining. Let’s do this,” the downpour turned into a monsoon.
While a good number of fans endured the storm, most people headed for shelter, which came in the form of the many trees surrounding the stage. After a while, though, it didn’t matter: unless you were indoors, there was no escaping the sheets of rain falling from the sky. The band made the best of it, though, playing songs from their debut Crazy for You and trying their best to keep spirits high. In the end, though, it didn’t matter: the rain made for a lousy experience, and unless you were a diehard Best Coast fan, it was tough to enjoy the set.
Manchester Orchestra, who followed Best Coast, was undoubtedly the band I was most excited to see at Lollapalooza. However, by the time they took the stage, I was too waterlogged to muster up enough enthusiasm. Their set was fine (most songs coming from their latest albums, Everything to Nothing and Simple Math) but I spent most of it standing in the back and ringing out my T-shirt. I got the sense that the band felt dampened, as well, showing little interest in playing for the large but soggy crowd that had assembled. They mostly sleepwalked through a predictable set and seemed relieved once it all was said and done.
After they finished, I re-entered the festival proper and was blown away by what I saw: Throngs of soaking wet people, muddy from head to toe, running through the streets, jumping in puddles and sliding in the grass. The rain did nothing to diminish the spirits of the masses, who clearly embraced any and all moisture. I had decided to make Foo Fighters my final Lolla show, having been at least a casual fan for a number of years. The massive field that held the Music Unlimited stage had essentially been turned into a giant puddle. Realizing it was all awash, most people stripped down to their skivvies and welcomed the mud, some even sliding head first into the more unruly patches. The widespread irreverence was certainly a spectacle, only bolstered when Foo Fighters took the stage and ripped through a surprisingly diverse set.
Photo by Cambria Harkey
I didn’t recognize a good number of the songs—a diehard fan standing next to me told me most of them were coming from their “totally fucking awesome” new album, Wasting Light—but the ones I did recognize, like “My Hero,” “Learn to Fly,” “Monkey Wrench” and the closer “Everlong” were undeniable highlights. The band, and particularly Dave Grohl, has a ferocious presence live and it was really a treat to hear those classic songs played live.
All in all, my weekend at Lollapalooza, while perfectly enjoyable, officially deterred me from ever attending the festival without the aide of a media bracelet. The press tent was my oasis—I could escape the crowds, find a comfy seat and enjoy some shade whenever I pleased. For general audiences, who endure both the elements and the festival’s willingness to charge them for virtually anything, the overall experience is something of a ripoff—a big, sweaty ripoff. Unless you buy a VIP ticket—which affords you riches even I wasn’t privy to, like backstage parties and air-conditioned tents—I can’t see how attending Lollapalooza would be at all worth it.
