Lollapalooza 2008, Part Two

When we last left our faithful blogger, he had lost track of his friends and took a fist on the chin during Rage Against The Machine. We pick up this Lollapalooza recap already in progress.

(photo by C. Bologna)

The first time Rage Against The Machine had to be stopped was halfway through “People Of The Sun”. I was able to look up on the big screen and saw a security guard getting the band’s attention to stop the song. Zack de la Rocha urged his brothers and sisters to look out and take care of one another, and that we all should take five to ten steps back to help those injured get out of the crowd. The same remarks would be made a song or two later, as more people needed to get out of the disaster. I saw people running by me on their way out of the pit. Some of them were the girls who hauled ass to run up past me at the beginning, who were now trembling in fear, a look on their face as if they had seen a ghost walking out towards open air. It seemed halfway through that people finally got their act together, rather, the group of people who wanted out got out so the rest of us could let out our urges and continue on without another incident. I was convinced and 24 hours later someone else rang my remarks: if there would’ve been another stop to that show, there would’ve been a plug pulled and a riot I would not have wanted to see. Thankfully, that did not happen. Instead, Morello wore a Cubs hat, de la Rocha urged Obama to pull troops out of Iraq immediately if elected, or he had some brothers and sisters he knew who would turn DC in to a war zone.

(RATM photos by C. Bologna)

They went a few minutes past their scheduled 10PM ending, but that was all right I guess since they were delayed here and there throughout. We would finally all find one another across the street from the main entrance. Gianni was one who actually walked out of the crowd at one point and watched everything from a distance. Chuck got pushed forward in a corner and was now doused in water, not sweat. His cell phone was done. We walked back to the metro, and people just walked right in the streets yelling and shouting as if we just won a war, and we sort of did. The Battle of Chicago took place on Grant Park that night and we came out victorious, battle scars and all. It was a sight I had never before seen, and I don’t know that I want to ever again. Gianni, younger than me, said of the crowd during the show, that he was too old for this shit. I concurred, but I’d be just as likely to put myself in that situation. Maybe even 24 hours after the fact?

(photo by C. Bologna)

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Day Three was a breeze. Like last year’s final day, there was not nearly that many a band we wanted to see. We arrived in time for What Made Milwaukee Famous at 1PM and they concluded 45 minutes later. This left us two hours before Iron & Wine would take the stage. The shade was where you could’ve found us, eating food and just laying there sprawled out like people who were pulled out of the big game. I was bouncing back from a small bout of dehydration from earlier that morning, but was just about up to par. I also did not want my scalp to burn anymore than it already had.

When 4PM finally rolled around, and we had heard both the John Butler Trio and Amadou & Miriam played to packed crowds, Iron & Wine took the Bud Light stage. This was not what I wanted right then. People were dancing around, sharing the love like a damn Grateful Dead concert. I sat, face in hands, in and out of consciousness. Chuck summed it up bet when Sam Beam and his burly beard left the stage. ‘That would’ve been great if there was some pot and a couch involved.’ Songs seemed to take forever, I’m convinced was either 20-minutes long or just several songs connected by intricate segues. It was worse than Mason Jennings the day before, sadly.

At this point in the day, I was about to do something I never did. I referred to my Lollapalooza Official Program and I weighed my options. While the rest of the group went over to the Playstation 3 Stage for Flogging Molly, I just walked forward to stake out the best spot for us to see Nine Inch Nails later that night. I know Float inside and out, but I’m a fan. So I sat, dead center in front of the Bud Light stage, and just listened. I would later be told the crowd down in front for their set was just as bad, if not worse, than that of the Rage crowd from the night before. Who knew it was the cool thing to do, hurting people intentionally? I thought we had all grown up a bit, but I guess not.

Love & Rockets would take the main stage next, but would not play their biggest hit, “So Alive”. Perry Ferrell introduced them, I was mad. I had gone all weekend without seeing him, until that moment. Him smooching the members of the band that also made up three quarters of Bauhaus. So lame. I guess, without him we wouldn’t have the festival though. Daniel Ash had a silver guitar that shined as loud as he played. It even had a sticker on it that was the logo of the Irish band, Ash. I all of a sudden thought to myself, ‘they didn’t name themselves after him, did they?” Their hour-long set played for an eternity – I recognized “No New Tale To Tell” and that was about it. The last song went on for the majority of said eternity, equipped with three white creatures that would come on stage that were striped black that did a little dance. Gianni was convinced this was to keep our attention, but they then started to freak us out. They all sat, Zen-like and still, as the band held the same notes for a minute or so. They would then jump up, grabbing light bulbs that they used as mics, singing with the band. It finally ended and I couldn’t of been happier.

The next hour was painless. While watching the set up for Nine Inch Nails take place, The National played across from them. I sat, listening to them play all the songs they usually play. “Slow Show”, “Apartment Story” and “Squalor Victoria” never sounded better. They are another band who come off as a well-oiled machine that I could see play time and time again. The screens and lights were blinking and flashing tests of what we were going to be a part of. Chuck had a fake seizure; Gianni bit his nails in anticipation. Someone finally started a ‘fuck Kanye’ chant and “999,999” started to blare. It was time.
Josh Freese started playing the 4/4 beat that started “1,000,000” from The Slip as each member joined in one by one before Trent Reznor took the stage. Dressed in black from head to toe, Reznor had the rock star stance. Standing ever so militant for the next hour and 45 minutes, his legs were spread apart just right as he marched the crowd through the classics and the rather recent. The crowd kept control until they launched “March Of The Pigs” and we all went in to a pogo-ing and shoving frenzy. I rather enjoyed it, though, as no one punched me that night. “Wish” caused the same reaction, as did “Head Like A Hole”. It was the latter that almost found me in a moment like the night previous. In front of me once again was an open pit of people running amok, and I walked right through it at one point to get that much closer to snap some pictures. A guy ended up running right in to me but that was it. A few more photos were snapped and I moved back to where I was. The stage show rivaled that of the Radiohead paranoia expose: the band was behind a screen at times, using its shadows to cast a net during some songs, while being in front of it for songs like “Vessel” and “The Warning”. They would then pull the front screen up to unveil a slightly different stage set to present some of the instrumental passages from Ghosts I-IV. The screens now portrayed images of desolation that fit perfectly with the songs that were the soundtracks for these landscapes presented.

The encore was perfect. After “Echoplex,” Reznor took a moment to show his gratitude for being there in front of a packed house, playing a festival that he was a part of during its very first incarnation the early 90s. He then apologized for his voice being shot, and went in to “Hurt”, a song that gave us chills and made me almost tear up for some reason. It was then in to the final song of the evening, “In This Twilight,” from last year’s Year Zero. As the screen behind them showed the skyline of an unknown city, the band closed out the festival for the thousands in the north end of the park. And as they entered, they would exit member for member, each stopping their part, bowing and waving in gratitude, leaving only Reznor on the piano. He waved once more and off in to the night he went. Lollapalooza 2008 was over and ended on the right note, with easily the best performance of the entire weekend.
We walked out on Jackson Boulevard to more people chanting their disdain for Kanye and hollering in the streets again commenced. The Battle of Chicago Part 2: Electric Boogaloo was a success. We walked down the steps to get on the Blue Line once more, and headed back to our hotel. We were sore and felt defeated, but really it was us who were the winners in the end.

Lollapalooza 2008, Part One

I’m now four days removed from this year’s Lollapalooza, and I find myself thanking God that nothing happened to me that would project flashbacks a la Vietnam. I still have matching bruises on my knees, albeit they are fading. My jaw, which suffered a blow from what I’m pretty sure was an unintentional fist thrown, has recovered. I’m now writing this finally, days later, in a car after a much-needed rest on the shores of New Jersey. You could now refer to this part of my vacation as Part One Million: The Sickening. My throat, sore and scratchy from the most yelling I have done in 24 years, finally gave way to a snotty head cold, probably from living in a hotel the past seven days surrounded by germs, air conditioning and cigarette smoke.

But what brought us here? What has brought us to a moment that, a week after we touched down in Chicago, finds me even more under rest than before?

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I had never seen a line like this. It might as well have just gone around the entire diameter of Grant Park. It wasn’t like this last year; honestly Gianni and I don’t remember it being this bad. The mass of people outside of the Lolla locale was nothing like I had see before in my life. Maybe it was because nine hours later, Radiohead would grace the AT&T stage and would go on to play an amazing two hour set to somewhere in the neighborhood of 70,000. What was the biggest downfall was after reaching the front gates, people were just walking in: we didn’t need to wait in line anyway.

We missed Bang Camaro start the day off, but we headed to the South end of the park anyway. Holy Fuck was the first band on the AT&T stage; people were already drinking their $5 Bud products, passing J’s and lord knows what else as turntableism was in battle with a furious live drum kit. I honestly had never been so hot in my life and I’m pretty sure day one, known in my group as The Bitchening, was the hotter than any day Gianni and I took in last year.

We planted are hooves and then asses in front of the MySpace stage, trying to stay cool as we awaited Rogue Wave to get their set started. I knew it was probably going to be the best Rogue Wave show I had ever seen – the band have many a time professed a love for the Windy City, as evident in the track “Chicago X 12”, a song about playing in Chi City. Before they even took stage, the Q101 DJ’s who introduced them had already made reference to the fact that the band, who had a song called “Lake Michigan”, was playing right before it. The set was odd: they opened with typical closer “Love’s Lost Guarantee” and closed on the assault of “Harmonium” which just signaled a great day was ahead for all. I also probably had sweat out five or so pounds, but I really didn’t seem to mind at all. I just did my best to stay hydrated and in the shade when I could.

Conveniently, as in up the steps on the other side of the bushes on the Citi Stage, Louis XIV was the next band on our to see list. Before that, I did manage to let my ears pick up on a few moments of Yeasayer’s set from the AT&T stage and it actually really made me want to sit with All Hour Cymbals. Yeah, I’ll get right on that. I wasn’t sure where Louix XIV was from – I thought they were either from across the pond because of Jason Hill’s snide and snarky vocals, or Detroit. They’re actually from San Diego, but apparently hang out with their friends in Las Vegas that moonlight as The Killers from time to time. I thought I’d notice some of the songs from The Best Little Secrets Are Kept since it was all over during my college radio tenure, but really the only song I noticed was their minor hit “Finding Out True Love Is Blind”.

A sausage and Sweet Leaf lemonade later, we headed to the North end of the park for the first time all day so Gianni could catch the Black Keys tearing it up on the Bud Light stage. We got there right in time for them to start, missing every last possible second of Duffy’s set on the Playstation 3 stage. They catered to their fan base, not only playing their most recognizable songs like “Your Touch” and “10 AM Automatic”, but also songs form their Danger Mouse produced Attack & Release.

And as quickly as they had started and we had arrived in that end of the park, we vanished and headed back south in time for Grizzly Bear. I had been wanting to see them perform since not going to that TV On The Radio / Grizzly Bear tour in the fall of 2006, so this was one performance I was not going to miss. The band never looked more cool and confident. Adorning shades, polo shirts and shorts, it was Ed Droste that got me entangled in a momentary conversation with another fan. He said that if he were 10 or 15 pounds lighter, he’d wear those shorts, too. I just confessed that if I were in a band, that would be my wardrobe for a summer event like this. Really, Will Sheff and Jason Hill I’m talking to you, the three-piece suit is not appropriate in terrible heat. Thank you. New songs were tested and sounded fabulous, as was my jam, “Knife,” which of course Droste would then be keen to point out that CSS was up after them (their rendition of “Knife” was featured on last year’s Friend EP).
We then headed over to the AT&T stage for the rest of our Friday, trying our best to stake out a spot for Radiohead, and we did succeed in my opinion. Before them, though, we had to get through Bloc Party. It would be the fourth time I saw them, and I really wasn’t looking forward to it, but I must say I’m happy to have caught them again. The band played a set like it was a greatest hits tour, playing the best songs from both Silent Alarm and A Weekend In The City, an album I’m not super fond of, but live the songs finally transpired for me. Sadly, they wasted a few minutes of our evening by playing new single “Mercury” which, sadly, does not hold over well at all. Sorry, Dany Sloan.
All day, I had been making predictions of what Radiohead was going to start with. This being the first night of the second leg of their US tour for In Rainbows, I referred back to previous set lists for pointers. “All I Need” and “Bodysnatchers” were frequent openers, but it would actually be “15 Step” that would get the night started. The thin lights were in place, dangling from the rigs and placed around members of the band. They would eventually light up the night sky, competing with the city’s skyline. The screens behind the band were long, with cameramen up high, focusing in on each member so we were not to miss a note or a sneeze for the next two hours. They would play all of In Rainbows, breaking it up with some of the best songs of their career. Ganni was overjoyed with “Paranoid Android” and “Fake Plastic Trees”, I was happy there was no “Creep” and that “The Gloaming” snuck in the middle. “The National Anthem” was a multimedia assault; the red, white and blue lights flashed amidst samples that made me feel like we were eavesdropping on people on phones and other modes of communication. Maybe we were and I don’t even know it. But what might’ve been the clutch moment was the second encore of “2+2=5” in to “Idioteque”. After that, it was 10:01 PM, and we could all say that it was easily the best performance of the day. The real question was how would it stand up to the rest of the weekend? Was there someone else who could challenge, even defeat the ‘Head?
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Day Two, known among this year’s travel collective as The Insultening, was a drastic change in temperature and scenery from Day One. The humidity was gone as the festivalgoers were treated to a lake effect breeze and clear skies. This would prove to be our busiest day, with nothing but two hours that would were spread out that featured no one we wanted to see.

We started off on the North side this day, catching Does It Offend You, Yeah? as they played to a rather large crowd on the Bud Light stage. We were nice and close to the front for optimal photo opportunities. Going in to it, I was nervous since I had read their live sets were pretty much amazing or horribly awful. Lucky for us, the band was on the spot. There were some off moments, like the unplugging of a mic here or the breaking of a string there, but who cares, they had the crowd’s full attention. I was so enthralled by the fact that they were performing my favorite song off of You Have No Idea What You’re Getting Yourself Into (“With A Heavy Heart (I Regret To Inform You)”), that we missed one of the band’s members throw up. After that, I was excited to run over to the Playstation 3 stage and catch Mason Jennings, but was sadly let down. After five or six songs, and not a one off of this year’s pristine In The Ever, I was ready to walk away. Something about DIOYY in to Mr. Jennings just didn’t work for me. A bad transition I was not ready for.

Something else I was not ready for, rather not expecting, was who was next. For many a month now, I could not get in to Foals to save my life, but their set that afternoon on the Citi Stage gets the award for Most Surprising Set To Be Rather Enjoyed By Me. Their musicianship was tight: they played like they had been doing it for centuries, not missing a step or a beat. I guess I need to track down Antidotes now.

Down the steps we trekked after the infamous Chicken On A Stick, and saw what had to be the biggest crowd at the MySpace stage all weekend for MGMT. Rather than scoot up in to that, we took the advantage of the AT&T stage being somewhat empty and getting a good spot for Brand New.

Brand New. Brand New. Tsk tsk. Almost two years ago now, Gianni bugged me, begged of me, to listen to The Devil & God Are Raging Inside Of Me. When I finally did, it came in to my life at the perfect time and I can still listen to it and enjoy it. I was about as excited as he was to see them, being his first time seeing one of his favorites. What we ended up being treated to was something we were not expecting. Maybe it was something we were not even ready for.

The crowd was huge. Were they all Brand New fans or were there people staking out a spot for Rage Against The Machine that night? Whatever the case, lead singer Jessie Lacey was none too pleased. Between two songs, he asked the crowd “Why are you not seeing Explosions In The Sky?” referring to the fact they were playing at the same time as them a mile away. “You should be seeing them, you’re all fools.” A song later, they introduced the following number as “Go See Explosions In The Sky”. Was Lacey surprised and upset by this many people seeing him? Was he upset because his guitar was totally out of tune for part of “Sowing Season”? Did somebody forget to take their meds? Whatever the case, they started “You Won’t Know,” introduced as “Bomb Track”, a Rage Against The Machine song. During the song’s bridge, Lacey finally cracked a smile, swaying back and forth as he belted out the line ‘Cause you’re the apple of my eye anyway,’ but I’m convinced that was all sarcasm. Moments later, his guitar came off and he threw it right in to the drum kit. I was surprised no one was hurt. 15 minutes before they were due to end, it was all over. Were there more songs, no one knows. Chuck caught a glimpse of the out of focus set on the big screen like I did, and that could’ve been it. We were all convinced that it was a premature finale. While MGMT played and we sat and listened, right before their first song they stated “We are Radiohead, thank you for coming to see us play,” which I found hysterical, but for some reason, Lacey’s ungratefulness didn’t sit so well with me. This would lead me to a great joke later on about him joining Joy Division at the BMI stage.

We stopped for a round of beers as we headed over to catch Broken Social Scene on the Bud Light stage. Two years ago, many easily deflected that the Canadian superpower were the performance of the entire weekend, mainly in part to the hot indie sex dream of Feist, Amy Milan and Emily Haines altogether on the same stage. Would we get an encore this year? Of course not. The band took the stage as the sun hid behind the Sears Tower and Brendan Canning immediately caught my attention. It was not his burly beard and safety goggle glasses, but more his colorful tank top, white pants and matching shoes. I declared it was a rather indie Elton John look he had bestowed upon the crowd. I guess I was right. “Pacific Theme” would start the show off, leading in to “Cause = Time”. Amy Milan would eventually join them to sing Feist’s part of “Shoreline (7/4),” and they would end an hour later with a gut wrenching take on “It’s All Gonna Break”. As a long time fan, I was a bit let down they ended a festival set with the 10-minute epic that closes out their self-titled album and would’ve loved for them to close on “Ibi Dreams Of Pavement” but it was still good none the less. They did, after all, play “Love Is New”.
And it was back across the park we headed, that long mile we were all so familiar with by the end of that day, for Rage Against The Machine. We staked out a spot on the right, and inched in a bit to the left. I was convinced that maybe the crowd wouldn’t be so nuts back that far, while the rest of my friends said I might be surprised. We could hear the Toadies playing to their masses, running through “Possum Kingdom” and “Tyler” from the MySpace stage, as the camera started to focus on the crowd in front of the AT&T stage. The crowd was already shifting and moving, and the red star hadn’t even been erected yet. But once the lights went out and that banner came up as the backdrop, and the band took the stage, it was coming. Tom Morello’s never to be replicated guitar style ripped open and Brad Wilk started the drum roll that would introduce “Testify”. The crowd surged forward, the song launched, and so did all of we. And then, a fist clocked me right across the chin. I also lost track of two of my closest friends. The next 90 minutes would be interesting for all.

To Be Continued.