Most photos by Charly Thomas
Radiohead photos by Nathan Lanthrum
Josh and Air Force Amy photo by Bunny Love
In its fourth year, Lollapalooza MK II truly arrived. For the first time since it made Grant Park its home, the fest sold out all three days—75,000 fans per day!—which was no surprise considering the lineup. Radiohead, Rage Against The Machine, Wilco, Kanye West, Nine Inch Nails… and that's just the big, big, big names. And the park, though sometimes tough to navigate in such crowds, is a beautiful place to see music: The Chicago skyline is off to the west, and the lake and museum campus are off to the east and south. Yep, there was a bit of trouble during Rage Against The Machine's set—a riot or nothing much at all, depending on who's telling the story—but still, pretty damn smooth. Four A.V. Clubbers and A.V. Club special assignment intern Wes were on hand to provide the minute-by-minute action.
FRIDAY, AUGUST 1
1:45 pm, Genevieve: The line to enter the festival is out of control. I have a media pass, so I'm able to bypass the clusterfuck, but my festival companion, who has a regular three-day pass, has to queue up in the horde that's snaking a full block down Columbus, several people deep—and this is just one arm of a many-pronged line. After 10 minutes of waiting with her, I bail like the awesome friend I am; I don't want to miss a minute of The Go! Team, and there's at least a 15-minute hike between me and the stage. Turns out to be a good decision—she doesn't even enter the festival gates until halfway through their set, around 3 p.m.
2:15 pm, Genevieve: The Go! Team begins with a bowel-loosening blast of feedback. Once it subsides, the sound is extremely bass-heavy for the first number, "The Power Is On," but things seem to right themselves quickly after that. Go! Team is Ian Parton's baby, but the group's three female members—drummer-singer Chi Fukami Taylor, guitarist-singer Kaori Tsuchida, and especially rapper Ninja—are the stars onstage. They collectively radiate spunk, and even as far back as I am—behind the sound board, which turns out to provide a great unobstructed view over the heads of the guys manning the boards—people are jumping and spinning gleefully. Next to me, a guy dances in a green rubber mask that covers his entire face, an odd fashion choice considering the mercury is pushing the 90-degree mark.
2:22 pm, Josh: Next big thing (or next big disappearing act) The Enemy UK riled up a small crowd on a side stage with their Jam-inspired working-class rock. They're tiny and 20 years old (the drummer looks about 15), and this was their first show in America. Overall, pretty exciting in its simplicity. During the set, there's a minor ruckus next to me when a crazy-looking bee/hornet/wasp thing—the biggest I've ever seen—starts menacing some concertgoers. A big dude runs away from it, only to be saved by a slight girl with multi-colored hair; she simply puts a beer cup over the bug, saving everyone.
2:43 pm, Kyle: A bin full of ice in the press area features Olade, a sugar-free, organic, low-calorie lemonade drink made by Rage Against The Machine drummer Brad Wilk. He created it after he developed Type 1 diabetes on the road and was unable to find a lemonade to meet his dietary restrictions. As skeptical as I am of celebrity-related products—except for Cheech Marin's amazing chipotle hot sauce—Olade rules. It's not too sweet, not too sour, and totally refreshing.
2:44 pm, Josh: Me, Kyle, and Genevieve all have iPhones, which we like very much. Some might say a little too much. One of Lollapalooza's main sponsors is AT&T, the exclusive service provider for the iPhone. So how come Kyle can't receive calls, and text messages take six or seven tries to get through? Too many iPhones jamming the airwaves?
2:54 pm, Kyle: The Go! Team performs on the Bud Light stage, a significant step up from the smaller stage it played at Lollapalooza in 2006. A massive crowd watches, which sets the precedent for the rest of the day. Friday is apparently the festival's first sold-out day since it rebooted in Chicago in 2005, and it feels sold out. Every stage seems to have a giant crowd, and the hot sun isn't making it more comfortable. Luckily, we're close to the lake, so there's a frequent breeze. And nothing can really dampen the joy of The Go! Team as it launches into "Grip It Like A Vice."
Odd T-shirt Alert: Homemade T with NAFTA RULES! written on the front.
3:02 pm, Josh: Jeff Tweedy of Wilco has chosen to play his Kidzapalooza set on the ground in front of the stage, ensuring that only the kids who'd arrived early would really get to see him play. At the periphery, I can't see much, but he turns in a pretty nice version of "Hummingbird." He also taught the kids a lesson after messing up a song with one guitar—that it was okay to learn from a mistake and start over.
3:21 pm, Kyle: The MySpace Stage all but swallows The Kills. Vocalist Alison Mosshart (a.k.a. VV) has only a mic, and guitarist-vocalist Jamie Hince (a.k.a. Hotel) performs with only his guitar, and the drums come from a sequencer. The band's detached stage demeanor only enhances the blah factor. No Wow indeed. After 15 minutes, we bail.
3:35 pm, Genevieve: A few numbers into Duffy's set, she alerts the audience that she's about to "lighten things up." Then she launches into "Serious," which can be generously described as "midtempo" at best. I happen to love her debut, Rockferry, but with the exception of the single "Mercy," there isn't a whole lot on it that might inspire dancing. That aside, she sounds absolutely amazing; her voice is surprisingly powerful for being so sweet and bell-like. The standard comparison points for Duffy are usually Dusty Springfield or Amy Winehouse—though there's no way Winehouse could've made it through a set with a quarter as much poise as the perpetually lovely Duffy did—but I keep getting flashes of Dolly Parton, whose voice has a similar strong-yet-girlish quality. Halfway into the set, I'm faced with the first of many agonizing decisions this weekend: Stick around to hear Duffy perform "Mercy," which I still play on a daily basis four months after its release? Or hoof it to the other side of the park for Gogol Bordello, a band that never fails to bring a crazy live show? I send up a prayer that Duffy will make it back through Chicago soon, and book it over to the south end of Grant Park.
4:15 pm, Kyle: Gogol Bordello takes the giant AT&T Stage with the expected merriment, opening with "Ultimate," the leadoff track from last year's Super Taranta! When manic frontman Eugene Hütz sings "There was never any good old days / they are today, they are tomorrow / it's a stupid thing we say," his carpe-diem joy is infectious. The crowd eats it up. And fiddle player Sergey Rjabtzev's ratty, sleeveless Slayer shirt is just awesome.
4:24 pm, Kyle: Two acrobatic, neon-clad dancers come bounding onstage during Gogol Bordello, and the crowd goes ballistic.
4:35 pm, Genevieve: Gogol Bordello is one of those bands I rarely listen to on record, but man, do they bring it onstage. Eugene Hutz—possessor of one of those weird, Iggy Pop-like bodies that manages to look emaciated yet remarkably fit at the same time—is a madman, and even though I can't understand a word of what's coming out of his mouth, the message is clear: "Dance, motherfucker!" And I do. Appropriately, as the band hurtles its way through "Not A Crime," I spot a guy sparking the biggest spliff I've ever seen.
4:39 pm, Kyle: While it isn't oppressively hot outside, it's uncomfortable in the sun. When it disappears behind a cloud, almost everyone in the crowd looks up and rejoices. Sadly, it reappears less than a minute later. It will tease us like this the rest of the day.
4:58 pm, Kyle: I've lost count of the ironic fanny-packs I've seen today. People, this trend cannot stand.
5:13 pm, Kyle: A DJ from the newly merged XM/Sirius satellite-radio company introduces husband-wife duo Mates Of State, proving that even if satellite radio wipes out its terrestrial counterpart, doofus DJs will still survive. Just like cockroaches.
5:14 pm, Kyle: The group that said DJ calls "the best band on the planet" opens with "Fraud In The '80s," from 2006's Bring It Back, with its line "You will surely find this pleasing to your ears." Well, usually, yeah, but here at the MySpace Stage, it sounds a little thin. Some of that goes with the territory for an organ-and-drums duo, but that doesn't explain why the reverb-drenched snare drum is way louder than everything else, and the vocals are kind of buried in the mix. The sound evens out a bit by the time Mates Of State play my favorite track from the new Re-Arrange Us, "Get Better." A violinist and cellist join them onstage, and off in the wings, I can see one of Gardner and Hammel's daughters dancing.
5:25 pm, Genevieve: Hey AT&T: If you're going to plaster your name all over a festival as a sponsor, you might wanna make sure your subscribers can actually get reception there. I've spent a large portion of the day by myself because I haven't been able to reach anyone via phone call or text message. I consider chucking my phone in the direction of the cushy AT&T-sponsored Digital Oasis.
6:01 pm, Josh: I have to say it: I love Cat Power, but I don't like this covers-roadshow version of Cat Power. Of course it works better at a huge festival, where there's sun and beer and sweat and bikinis, but Chan Marshall's greatest moments are way more intimate than a scene like this can possibly allow.
6:04 pm, Kyle: Our negative review of Re-Arrange Us slammed the album's "suburban slump." Even though I thought reviewer Joshua Alston was a little nuts to give it a D+, maybe he was on to something: In front of me there's a middle-aged couple with their two young boys, and the mom is totally rocking out as Mates Of State closes with "The Re-Arranger." The boys, wearing basketball jerseys for Orlando's Dwight Howard and New Jersey's Vince Carter, aren't feeling it so much. But they did get their hair spray-colored neon orange and green, and they seem to be having a good time.
Random overheard quote: "If this is what we choose, let's fuckin' set it down then!"
6:05 pm, Kyle: The crowd for Bloc Party is giant. How many are fans, and how many are just securing a spot for Radiohead?
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