2008 Lollapalooza recap, Sunday: The Decline of Festival Civilization, Part I
08/08/2008
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11:30: Octopus Project, MySpace Stage (photos #1 - #3, right)
Saturday night was a complete disaster that left me with little regard for my fellow man. It would take quite the act to cheer me out of the humanity-hating funk I was in, and the Octopus Project was that act. A poppier version of Holy Fuck, this electronic instrumental foursome started the day off with a joyous bang. They even brought props in the form of balloons that the audience was supposed to inflate and then release when motioned to. As a hundred or so balloons shot threw the air, my spirits rose and the damage of last night slipped away. These guys were amazing. I previously heard their music, but seeing them perform live gave it new life. While one member was on his knees pounding on two keyboards at the same time, the beautiful woman of the group was intently playing the Theremin, creating unearthly noises that held the crowd silent in awe. I had more fun with these guys than I did at any other time during the weekend.
2:15: Brazilian Girls, AT&T Stage (photo #4)
Still on the natural high of the Octopus Project, I made my way over to the Brazilian Girls, an electronic act (who aren't Brazilian) who frequently sing about another kind of high. Lead singer Sabia Sciubba emerged on the stage with a white parasol and a terrifying monstrosity of a dress that looked like the pirate shirt from “Seinfeld” on acid.
Now, I don't smoke pot and never have, and I don't knock people who do. That being said, hearing Sciubba constantly talk about pot and lamenting that she couldn't smell any coming from the crowd (she must've had a cold, because holy shit, everyone was lighting up) was annoying. Their shtick got old for me pretty quickly, and I made my way over to the Citi Stage, where I was planning to spend most of my day.
3:30: The Black Kids, Citi Stage (photos #5 and #6)
The lineup on the Citi Stage on Sunday was intense, with the last three acts being the Black Kids, Saul Williams and everyone's favorite mash-up artist Girl Talk. I got there early enough to snag a good spot for the Black Kids, who are probably still in recovery mode from the awful dick move Pitchfork pulled on them a few weeks back. (They raved about the band’s EP, then panned the band’s full-length album—which featured every song on the EP – in a one-word review that just showed a picture of two pug dogs, a frowny face emoticon, and “Sorry.” Lame.) Lamenting that they were playing against Chromeo, they launched right into it with their infectious New Wave pop music that had everyone on their feet dancing along, including a gaggle of douche bags who decided to surround me and scream incoherently. As they frantically bounced up and down an empty bottle of whiskey fell out of one of their pockets, explaining their exaggerated exuberance. This was a sign of things to come.
Click here for our review of the Black Kids’ Partie Automatic
5:00: Saul Williams, Citi Stage(photo #7)
There wasn't much overlap between Black Kids and Saul Williams audiences, and the audience for the rapper was the most attentive and respectful I saw all weekend. Nary a drunken collar-popper or sorority girl to be found, Saul attacked the audience from the beginning, asking the audience if they were ready and replying to their affirmative cheer with a threatening, “We'll see about that!”
Saul is a political/socially conscious musician, but that doesn't mean he's not afraid of a little showmanship. He came out with a feathered Mohawk and facepaint, while his keyboardist was rocking out in a Dracula cape, and a white stripe of paint running down the center of his face. Just as odd was the guitar player who was dressed like a sci-fi spaceman from a 1970s movie and CX KiDTRONiK, who handled many of the more technical aspects of the show while sporting body armor and, occasionally, a bag over his head.
Click here for our review of Saul Williams’ The Incredible Rise and Fall of Niggy Tardust
6:30: Girl Talk, Citi Stage
I thought that the audience for Girl Talk would be pretty light, and boy, did I misjudge that one. The second Saul Williams finished his act, hundreds of people seemed to rush the very small Citi Stage, trapping me and several others who didn't feel like getting to second base with the person they were standing next to. Having flashbacks of Rage, I escaped to the side of the stage. There, I learned that most of the people who were storming the front were expecting to get invited on stage to dance, something that Girl Talk (a.k.a. Gregg Gillis) usually does when he performs. However, Girl Talk usually performs for a crowd of a few hundred, not a few thousand, and anyone expecting an open door policy to the stage was a damn fool. As word got out that you needed a special pass to get onstage, some people started to get desperate, including two girls next to me who offered to give head to a security guard just to get onstage.
Tickets to see Girl Talk are about 20 bucks. It's nice to know how much those girls were worth.
And this was all before the show started; once Girl Talk got onstage and began his bitchin’ mix session, the place turned into a complete madhouse. Security guards had to pull people out of the crowd, and I was getting slammed into the fence by people who thought it was a door. I love Girl Talk – I interviewed him a few months back and he is the nicest guy you'll ever meet. But I just couldn't take it anymore, and I had to back up. Girl Talk was on fire, mixing hits from his latest album Feed the Animals with all-new material, but it was impossible to enjoy, as I saw people nearly being crushed to death and idiot girls climbing the fence because they thought they were somehow entitled to get onstage (they weren't, and I did see one get absolutely nailed by a pissed-off guard). Unable to tolerate the idiocy I saw before me, I left and headed for the sorth end of the park to get a good spot for Nine Inch Nails.
Click here for our review of Girl Talk’s Feed the Animals
8:15: Nine Inch Nails, Bud Light Stage(photo #8)
Between the thousands of idiots who nearly ruined Rage and the hundreds of idiots who did ruin Girl Talk, I was in a very “I hate everyone” mood – the perfect mindset to see Nine Inch Nails. Trent and co. were playing against Kanye West, and it looked like the majority of the Lollapalooza audience was heading out to see West, so the crowd for NIN was pleasantly scarce. Not only that, the people that I was around weren't complete assholes, and they actually listened to the music instead of talking to each other nonstop, rushing the stage or starting shit with the person nearest to them.
The set list was a bold one, heavy on material from The Slip and even featuring some of the instrumental numbers from Ghosts I-IV. The audience kept their attention throughout though (even during a marimba solo), and their patience was rewarded with blistering, ultraviolent renditions of NIN classics like “Closer,” “Head Like a Hole” and “Wish.” The visuals matched the audio intensity as well, with an amazing array of lighting tricks dazzling the crowd, which worked especially well during some of the show's slower moments.
Before finishing up with a two-song encore that included the self-loathing anthem “Hurt,” Trent took some time speak to the audience, thanking them for their attention and apologizing for his voice, which he claimed was off tonight. If he wouldn't have mentioned it, no one would have noticed. He also mentioned that he was happy to return to Lollapalooza after a 17-year absence, making everyone in the audience feel incredibly old.
Click here for our review of Nine Inch Nails’ The Slip
Final Thoughts
I've been a staunch defender of Lollapalooza at Grant Park, and I will continue to be. But this year's festival challenged my faith in the concert more than any one in the past. It wasn't because of the music. The lineup was top-notch, and nearly every band I saw delivered the goods, even when I didn't personally enjoy their music. It was the people.
The incidents at Rage Against The Machine and Girl Talk were not exceptions but rather extreme examples of the rule that seemed to be prevalent at this year's Lollapalooza, and that rule was: “I'm an asshole. Fuck You.”
“Did you wait patiently to see a band you love? I'm going to violently shove you out of the way to get closer. Oh, now you can't see? I'm an asshole; fuck you. Want to enjoy the concert in peace? Well, I'm going to start shit with the nearest person next to me and then block the exit so you can't get out, endangering not only myself but others. I'm an asshole; fuck you.”
“What was that? You want to hear the band? Well, I'm on the phone and my conversation is more important than the concert we both paid good money to see. I'm an asshole; fuck you.”
Sure, these kinds of things happen at all concerts, but this year it was just so much worse. Maybe some of the headliners were attracting the wrong kind of crowd (asshole bro’s), maybe the heat was affecting people's goodwill, or maybe mankind is on a rapid decline and humanity is quickly becoming a needy, selfish waste of space that should be scraped from the face of the Earth so at least some life can enjoy the planet.
Or maybe the flu is just getting to me and I'm way too sensitive.
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