Live: WHYH does Lollapalooza

"So," (you might ask) "What might WHYH have to add to the plethora of Lollapalooza 2007 reviews and retrospectives littering the blogosphere that we haven't seen before?"

And the answer, in our fine, mature, and well-stated elegant prose is:

Well...um...not much, really.

No doubt by this time, the truly curious will already have lived the event vicariously through the coverage offered by large, mega-staffed, well-funded superblogs like the 'Fork *shakes fists at their budget and staff, the wankers*, but the fact remains that those jaded hipsters seem to forget just what an experience like that means to someone that doesn't have the thing happening in -almost literally- their own backyard. Those of us struggling through Design School in Calgary, Alberta just DON'T have the option to go to Pitchfork Fest, to Bonaroo, to all of Folk Fest and Sled Island, even. By proxy, this means that we probably don't take the whole shebang for granted the way that those guys might, and usually do.

Fact of the matter is, for those of us who just love music, beyond the name-dropping, the "indier-than-thou" posturing, and the giant aviators, a weekend of unadultered live shows by some of the bands that you never dreamed you would ever get to see (what with living in a city NOT considered a hub of culture and artistic expression) is beyond amazing.

So, let's just forget that someone else HAS said everything journalistically about the event. Let's treat this like what it is, really: a friend coming back from one of the most musically exciting experiences they've had thus far, telling you about how wicked the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Daft Punk were live, how being stuck behind people a foot and a half taller for an hour before any given show sucks but is ultimately worth it when Iggy Pop calls up the entire front row to dance onstage, and just how out-of-control Pearl Jam's stardom seems to be when the entire field leading up to the stage is literally CRAMMED with bodies starting at 11:00 a.m., while the band is slated to play at 8:00 p.m. that night.

Thank god we're not Pearl Jam fans. >.>

Getting right down to it, there's a lot of ground to cover, so we'll go point-form and (hopefully) easy to follow:

Day 1 - Friday
Saw last part of Ghostland Observatory's set, which was amusing, but could probably get old rather fast; caught Ted Leo's set at the Myspace stage and was rather impressed, especially by his hardcore punx-ness. Watched Against Me for irony's sake. Left for two hours and ate amazing Chicago steak, returning in time to catch the end of the Black Keys. Watched LCD Soundsystem play "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House" RIGHT BY where Daft Punk would be playing later that evening. Danced like an idiot to the rest of their set, then completely and totally lost it at Daft Punk, which was one of the most amazing electronic experiences I've ever witnessed. Truly, they are Alien Robot Rock GODS.

Day 2 - Saturday
Got to Grant Park early and watched I'm From Barcelona's lovely, happy-hyper Swedishery while Phil caught Tokyo Police Club's set on the opposite side of the park (yes, he is, surprisingly, alive. However, he is also, curiously, mute and seems to be plagued with keyboard dyslexia). Rushed off to see Tapes 'n Tapes rock it up at the Myspace Stage (another performance that impressed me with new appreciation for the band's material and ability to play in the BEATING HOT SUN), then stood in a crowd much larger than expected to humour my way through Cold War Kids; this, if nothing else, has impressed me with the fact that they are a TEENSY bit overrated. Rushed off to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (and was, once AGAIN, surprised), then listened from a distance to the Hold Steady while crushed in a massive crowd waiting for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Following Karen O's gyrations and that band's all-around awesomeness, sheltered from the sudden rain and watched Spoon, who were great, then Interpol, who I had seen before. Later, realized that my poncho smelled more like cigarette smoke and weed than all my concert shirts ever put together.

Day 3 - Sunday
Missed the morning, due to family obligations on the part of Philip. While it was a bummer to miss Los Campesinos!, it was somewhat interesting to see a real, honest-to-god suburb. Got back to Grant Park at the tail end of Apostles of Hustle, but rushed off to watch Iggy Pop & the Stooges rock it up like it was 1969. Which, they played first. Which is my favourite song by them ever. ROCK! Also, due to his calling up the first few rows onstage to dance, we got second row for Modest Mouse, which was even more rock. Lamentably, this also meant that we couldn't go see Peter Bjorn & John (one of the list of missed acts that still causes twinges of sadness), but instead we were ridiculously closer to Isaac Brock, Johnny Marr, and the rest than I will probably ever be again. Following their set (which lamentably included no cuts off Lonesome Crowded West, le sob, though it was wonderful anyway), caught the end of TV on the Radio, and wished for probably the billionty-eth time that some of these bands would just PLAY THE BLOODY CANADIAN WEST ALREADY.

Afterwards, sat eating cheesecake with Philip and dissing Pearl Jam while no-doubt surrounded by evangelical fans. We seem to like danger, apparently. XD We left three or four songs in, seeing as they weren't playing "Do the Evolution" and "Even Flow", whereupon they then revenged themselves upon us by playing those two songs when we weren't close enough to see the screen anymore, but still close enough to hear the music. Bleh.

****Food for thought: Despite the fact that it's fun to rag on Pearl Jam, the real reason we left was more along the lines of this - the stage was WAY too far away to see, and the screen was so distant as to be smaller than a TV. Which provokes the question of whether it wasn't just like, well, watching Pearl Jam on TV. *shrugs* This causes me to ruminate on the nature of the live show vs. the screen broadcast, but these thoughts are probably more of interest to crackpot philosophy students than anyone that might actually trip and stumble on this blog. Crackpot philosophy students don't have the internet, anyway. XD

~Ju