GANGSTER'S PARADISE
I was out at the Pitchfork Music Festival here in Chicago this weekend. Unfortunately for me, I hate outdoor festivals. Yes, I'm a loud and proud advocate of experiencing as much good, live music as you can cram into your schedule, and if you live in a place like Chicago the problem is more finding the time to see everything and still be sober enough to get to work the next morning, rather than not having enough to do- a much worse situation, and one which plagued the area I grew up in back when I was lean and mean (Fortunately that situation has been changing as of late- check out what they have going on in the Quad Cities over at Daytrotter )
But my musical tastes are strangely both specific and varied. That doesn't normally jibe very well with the outdoor music festival spirit- y'know, the spirit of not really giving a shit about what bands are playing and being greatly more interested in paying $75 for a ticket to sit in a crowded, sweaty field and get baked with your friends. Usually that means the promoters will squash as many big name acts on the bill as possible, leaving lesser known acts to shiver in the corner where, if they're booked at all, they play for a collection of couples making out, a sleepy hobo and a stray dog on some annex stage.
And these festivals are usually during the summer- the juicy armpit, drenched in flop sweat season. Call me crazy, but the idea of shelling out big bucks (well.. for me anyway) to inject myself into a claustrophobically crowded field, where the ground has usually been tilled to the consistency of thick, lumpy chum, getting stoned strangers' back sweat pressed into me from four or more sides is not terribly pleasant. Add to that shelling out $7 for a nice hot cup of Budweiser or a wholesome steaming turkey leg, and you have an experience not terribly unlike hell. I believe Dante spoke of the armpit sweat, $9 turkey leg hell-level.
The good news for me this time 'round was two fold. Firstly, Pitchfork is generally a good festival. Every year, it manages to strike a balance between great and varied bands with a median level of popularity, and a good number of bands I could give a flying shit about. Perhaps only Bonnaroo is better at this, but since it was started by hippies, is frequented by hippies (despite the recent appearance by such staunch anti-hippies as Charlie Louvin, Ornette Coleman, Steve Earle, and High on Fire)and is in Kentucky, I will leave that for someone else to experience.
Secondly, I was invited to work at a booth with some friends in the record tent, which meant I was paid to see those friends, along with a bunch of folks I hadn't talked to in awhile and generally nerd out about music with people. Not so bad. Plus, should you find yourself at the Pitchfork festival next year, the CHIRP Record Fair tent is a wonderful shade and fan (the kind that blow air on people, not the other kind) filled oasis in the middle of the churning, sweaty bodies that flood the main field.
I didn't see much music. Not because there wasn't much to see (actually, there were only about 5 things I was psyched about) but more because it was ungodly hot all weekend and... y'know, fuck it. I didn't pay to be there. There are a few bands I'm kind of sorry I missed, but the good thing about living in the third largest tour market in North America is that those will be forced to come back.
I did see an amazing performance from the Boban i Marko Markovic Orkestar, a Serbian brass band that brought some serious and authentic Eastern European marching band funk to the proceedings (while it was raining, no less) and 2 separate performances from the mighty and incredible King Khan & The Shrines. Good God were they fun to watch. I'd wanted to see them for a long time- I've seen the King Khan & BBQ Show, and while, it's always a good show, the Shrines have something else entirely going on. It's part Screamin' Jay Hawkins, part James Brown and His Famous Flames, with a hearty dab of modern raunchy sensibility slathered on top. Why they signed to Vice, I'll never know (yeah, yeah, the 'Do's & Don't's' are sometimes funny..aaand sometimes incredibly ignorant.)
So it was a good weekend overall, even if it's Tuesday and I'm still a total space cadet from the weekend. All I can say is, I was out of my house for the better part of three days doing something halfway cool and reasonably interesting, and all I had to spend money on was records. Not too shabby for an outdoor music festival.
Apparently if you're shielded from the sun, have something to do when the bands you don't care about seeing are playing, are paid, and provided with free tickets, free beer, and free food, an outdoor festival can be a fun and enriching experience.
Ha ha. You had to pay.
I was out at the Pitchfork Music Festival here in Chicago this weekend. Unfortunately for me, I hate outdoor festivals. Yes, I'm a loud and proud advocate of experiencing as much good, live music as you can cram into your schedule, and if you live in a place like Chicago the problem is more finding the time to see everything and still be sober enough to get to work the next morning, rather than not having enough to do- a much worse situation, and one which plagued the area I grew up in back when I was lean and mean (Fortunately that situation has been changing as of late- check out what they have going on in the Quad Cities over at Daytrotter )
But my musical tastes are strangely both specific and varied. That doesn't normally jibe very well with the outdoor music festival spirit- y'know, the spirit of not really giving a shit about what bands are playing and being greatly more interested in paying $75 for a ticket to sit in a crowded, sweaty field and get baked with your friends. Usually that means the promoters will squash as many big name acts on the bill as possible, leaving lesser known acts to shiver in the corner where, if they're booked at all, they play for a collection of couples making out, a sleepy hobo and a stray dog on some annex stage.
And these festivals are usually during the summer- the juicy armpit, drenched in flop sweat season. Call me crazy, but the idea of shelling out big bucks (well.. for me anyway) to inject myself into a claustrophobically crowded field, where the ground has usually been tilled to the consistency of thick, lumpy chum, getting stoned strangers' back sweat pressed into me from four or more sides is not terribly pleasant. Add to that shelling out $7 for a nice hot cup of Budweiser or a wholesome steaming turkey leg, and you have an experience not terribly unlike hell. I believe Dante spoke of the armpit sweat, $9 turkey leg hell-level.
The good news for me this time 'round was two fold. Firstly, Pitchfork is generally a good festival. Every year, it manages to strike a balance between great and varied bands with a median level of popularity, and a good number of bands I could give a flying shit about. Perhaps only Bonnaroo is better at this, but since it was started by hippies, is frequented by hippies (despite the recent appearance by such staunch anti-hippies as Charlie Louvin, Ornette Coleman, Steve Earle, and High on Fire)and is in Kentucky, I will leave that for someone else to experience.
Secondly, I was invited to work at a booth with some friends in the record tent, which meant I was paid to see those friends, along with a bunch of folks I hadn't talked to in awhile and generally nerd out about music with people. Not so bad. Plus, should you find yourself at the Pitchfork festival next year, the CHIRP Record Fair tent is a wonderful shade and fan (the kind that blow air on people, not the other kind) filled oasis in the middle of the churning, sweaty bodies that flood the main field.
I didn't see much music. Not because there wasn't much to see (actually, there were only about 5 things I was psyched about) but more because it was ungodly hot all weekend and... y'know, fuck it. I didn't pay to be there. There are a few bands I'm kind of sorry I missed, but the good thing about living in the third largest tour market in North America is that those will be forced to come back.
I did see an amazing performance from the Boban i Marko Markovic Orkestar, a Serbian brass band that brought some serious and authentic Eastern European marching band funk to the proceedings (while it was raining, no less) and 2 separate performances from the mighty and incredible King Khan & The Shrines. Good God were they fun to watch. I'd wanted to see them for a long time- I've seen the King Khan & BBQ Show, and while, it's always a good show, the Shrines have something else entirely going on. It's part Screamin' Jay Hawkins, part James Brown and His Famous Flames, with a hearty dab of modern raunchy sensibility slathered on top. Why they signed to Vice, I'll never know (yeah, yeah, the 'Do's & Don't's' are sometimes funny..aaand sometimes incredibly ignorant.)
So it was a good weekend overall, even if it's Tuesday and I'm still a total space cadet from the weekend. All I can say is, I was out of my house for the better part of three days doing something halfway cool and reasonably interesting, and all I had to spend money on was records. Not too shabby for an outdoor music festival.
Apparently if you're shielded from the sun, have something to do when the bands you don't care about seeing are playing, are paid, and provided with free tickets, free beer, and free food, an outdoor festival can be a fun and enriching experience.
Ha ha. You had to pay.
posted by Pete Klockau at 5:20 PM
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