Lollapalooza 2006 - Day Three
By: Music Staff |
Thursday August 31, 2006 |
| Some people hung around after the Chili Peppers because a local radio station floated a (false) rumor the Smashing Pumpkins were playing afterwards. |
| Jennifer Wagner takes you into her world to begin the third and final day of
Lollpalooza.
Day three started out weird. I woke up on my floor nude with a bunch of empty White Castle boxes scattered all over the place. What actually woke me up was the thump-thump-thump of my cat's head, which was stuck in one of those cheeseburger boxes; he was attempting to liberate himself by banging it on the nightstand. Obviously he had been looking for greasy paydirt somewhere at the bottom of that thing, and had gotten himself in serious trouble in the process. I sprung the dastardly feline and fed him some regular cat food, but I put it in one of the empty Castle boxes just to fuck with him. Gay German porn (some of you readers may recall my affinity for the stuff) looped silently on the DVD, and I discovered a note pinned to my disheveled bed with a paring knife: "Lady, thanks for the kicks. We really enjoyed the mojitos you whipped up, not to mention the actual whipping. We told you it wouldn't come out with club soda. Also, we borrowed you car. Fourteen kisses, Chris & The Beacon." Huh. I don't own a car. Evidence of mojitos was indeed strewn about in the kitchen; crushed mint leaves, sugar (I verified by tasting), and a colossal jug of rum, drained of all but a few meager drops. Jesus. I crawled around the place doing my best to reconstruct the ongoings; I wanted to determine the gender of "Chris & The Beacon" if at all possible. I got mixed debris, indicating a little of both - toys just for girls and a bottle of lube were all twisted up in the sheets, and a torn condom wrapper gleamed its inner-foil lining up from the floor by the bed. Double huh. All of my important effects seemed to be in order, and though toting a noticeable limp I appeared no worse for the wear so I decided to just chalk it all up to the waning moon and move on with my day. I turned off the German porn, and in its place on the television motherfucking Condi Rice popped up, again. This time the helmet-haired harbinger of Doom was on "Meet the Press," so before I could listen to one word out of her greedy, frightened mouth I hit PLAY and enjoyed the much more desirable spectacle of two men jerking each other off on a couch somewhere outside of Munich. I didn't really have time for that either, though; Lollapalooza was already underway four miles south from where I stood. It was time to stop trying to piece together the sticky shards of last night's hedonistic jaunt and earn my press credentials, goddamnit. The feel of things on the third day had even more torque than the first two had, somehow. A huge crowd teemed outside the entrance, bombarded by all the flyers and handouts prevented inside the gates. I got to the Q101 stage just barely after 30 Seconds to Mars started their set. Oh my. Jared Leto and his goonsquad were clad head to toe in all white, donning bizarre harlequin masks, which I found out later were a salute to the video for their current album's title track, "A Beautiful Lie." Within ten minutes of their stint Jared climbed the scaffolding of the stage, like, 60 feet in the air, using the pole supports, and sang some shitty song about some 'ho named "Mary" while up there. Goddamn, his lyrics suck, and though he can usually sort of sing, he really sounded like crap. The stunt reeked of an attempt to get publicity at what I'm sure is the biggest gig his band has ever played. He came off as a needy little kid, sort of sad really, jumping up and down screaming "Look at me! Do you see me?! LOOK!" It wasn't about rock, it was about attention, and it sucked. I was nauseous after that, but I was immediately thankfully revived by balladeer Andrew Bird, who was playing at the other end of the park from 30STM. I believe him to be the Lou Reed of this century. Though enthralling in it's entirety, I was especially entertained by "Tables and Chairs," a complicated, witty tune off of 2005's Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs. Some lyrics of this song include: "Listen very carefully. There will be snacks; there will be sweet and savory both so don't worry." Then he did this (yeah I'll say it) Bird-like whistle and made us all fall in love; men and women, Canadian geese alike. He's slightly Morrissey, here and there, and juuuuuuuust...an amazing songwriter. The Captain was handling Matisyahu duties at this point. Day three hadn't exactly started off spectacularly as far as the music went, and truth be told, aside from those young 'uns in The Blisters, I hadn't been 100% enthralled by any performer as of yet. 30 Seconds To Mars, as Jennifer already stated, were rather unimpressive, with singer Jared Leto spending more time trying to get some audience love than he was performing the band's music. I wish I had gotten to the grounds a little earlier to see The Frames, The Hold Steady, The Redwalls and Hot Chip. Furthermore, I at least wish that Wagner had gotten there earlier. Grrrr.... Anyways, Matisyahu. I'm really not a fan of the recordings this Hasidic, reggae rapper puts out, but the relaxed, chill vibe he and his nimble band displayed almost turns me around on the guy. It's all very hippie-ish and groovy, perfect stuff to light a big one to, if you're into that sort of thing (I never have been). His music all wafted together and came dangerously close to becoming some sort of "scene." My wife was up in the photo pit for the second time this day (she demanded to snap pics of Leto...she was really into "My So-Called Life") and she and some other photogs were chatting with some kids in the front of the AT&T stage, finding out that some had come from as far as California and Boston and camped out overnight just to get this prized spot for the Chili Peppers who were kicking off their American tour at Lollpalooza. It's nice that they like the band and all, but I've never understood this sort of fan devotion. Carrie J. Sullivan, or "Sully" to all of us, was at The Shins. It was the addition of The Shins to the Lolla line up that cemented my decision go to this shindig. The pensive and studious rockers don't make it to the Midwest often and I was determined to witness it. Their brand of thoughtful and often intricate songwriting doesn't necessarily lend itself well to an expansive Lolla-type festival where only huge pop/rock energy tends to get past the edge of the stage, but they managed to push it out as far as they could without altering the music's intent. The even-handed set included plenty of cuts from both albums and a couple new songs to whet fans' appetite. Unfortunately, a smooth flow was never quite achieved due to early technical difficulties and numerous instrument swaps between songs. By the end of the set The Shins hit their stride and confidently delivered crowd favorites including "Kissing the Lipless" and "So Says I." It wasn't the most inspired performance I saw all weekend but it significantly stimulated my anticipation for seeing them in a venue actually appropriate for their music. C'mon back boys. We'll be here. Jennifer Wagner grabbed Sully by the arm and ran over to the Playstation stage. I wanted to make sure I saw the Reverend Horton Heat, performing at 5 on that little stage where Blackalicious purred our engines the prior afternoon. I think that stage was kissed by the goddess of unhinged fun and unexpectedly rich sound. My two happy surprises of the fest both right there! I arrived just in time to hear the Rev going off on his debilitating fear of porpoises, admitting he recoiled at the signs for the infamous and nearby Shedd Aquarium. Then he went into the use of "y'all" as an important and useful contraction. Ahem - on to the music. It certainly was time for some stand-up bass and gonzo smatterings on drug-runs and scumbag sex, and the band delivered with such quick and wholesome hits as "Bales of Cocaine" and "Galaxy 500" from 2002's Lucky 7; a smack-in-the-face reminder of the deep, hillbilly speed, the unexpected rocky roots of both original thrash and original trash. The crowd-pleaser was their cover of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and it was indeed done real fast, real fun, and real 'billy cool (hey, dems mah roots! I'm 'llowed). The laid-back yet frenzied mood they set was just perfect for trekking across the campus with a ten dollar bud tucked in my bra; here was a woman fiercely enjoying herself, looking for a good vantage spot for the next big noise. But first Brett has a few things to say about a couple of other acts. Of Montreal---fuck. I didn't even know who was playing on the AMD stage until they said who they were. I guess the singer dude was wearing a dress...I didn't get that close. They were pretty awful, though barely missing the top three worst performances of the weekend. I parted ways with my wife (she was intent on checking out She Wants Revenge and then Queens of the Stone Age, while I just wanted to find a good place on the grass for Wilco). It's official, Poi Dog Pondering haven't changed much since I saw them at Alpine Valley in the mid-90s. Frank Orrall's voice isn't quite as strong and there's not quite as many people running around onstage, but Dag Juehlin is still there on guitar, so that's cool. Wilco finally came on and it seemed as if everyone and their grandmother showed up to catch them play, with people filtering in long after the band's set had begun. I waited for my son to walk over from QOTSA so that he could finally see one of my favorite bands perform. He's a guitarist, so I was particularly keen on him checking out the band's ace Nels Cline. But by the time he wandered over, I was ready to throw in the towel on Wilco, due to the extremely shitty sound. This wasn't any fault of the band's, mind you. But the idea that you could barely hear anything on top of seeing the band members repeatedly motioning for someone to turn the volume up, was just too much to take. If things ever changed, I wasn't there to witness it. Before passing the Playstation stage, which was right near where Wilco performed, I could already hear the thunderous power of QOTSA. What a ridiculous and infuriating difference between the two sound setups, I thought. Wilco's performance was the one I was most anticipating and that experience was fucked by incompetence and/or poor quality. Jennifer will comment on QOTSA as I'm still too pissed off to say anything right now. Queens of the Stone Age - were great, fast, and high-energy. The crowd was imposingly huge, actually, and their sound was predictably aggressive, nocturnal, and abusive. QOTSA gave it to all of us right up the ass without so much as a basket of fries. I was surprised at how well their harmony played off, like when they did "In My Head" off of 2005's Lullabies to Paralyze. And either I'd missed it on days one or two or this hasn't happened for a while - some crazy, old-school crowd surfing went down, errr...up, then down, then...yeah. From my hill perch it was hilarious, and I noticed that girls seemed like they were treated pretty well out there overall, though the groping must have been quite exploratory. As playful as it looked, however, rumor has it some of the folks came out the pit with bloody faces, missing shoes, broken glasses and no pants. The band moved into a nice, tight "Little Sister," (my God that reads so damn wrong...) and that big fat Gibson guitar sounded incredibly slick. They wrapped up the set with some HUGE drums, the big, long Black Sabbath-like number "A Song For the Dead," off of the band's Songs for the Deaf. Dave Grohl, a monster drummer if there ever was one played on the original, but Joey Castillo is a damn fine substitute. As I made my way through the exponentially-increasing frenzy, I see this dude pretty much passed out, head on the concrete, who used his very last ounce of energy to light a cigarette. I'm gonna let Brett fill in a bit toward the end on the band that Perry Farrell introduced as "probably the greatest band on the planet today": Red Hot Chili Peppers. With the exception of noting that Farrell also said, proud and a little teary, "70,000 people, that's 140,000 legs." But the bastard didn't account for the amputees. Flea's bass came on as freaking strong as ever, he was colorful and swaggering and they started with a funky-driven slow jam. The three-quarter Chicago moon looked down on us as they moved into some frankly formulaic stuff off of the current record Stadium Arcadium and at one point the beautiful-when-she's-sad Sully turned to me and said, dejectedly, "I dropped my lucky penny in the port-a-john." Security, bathed in sweat, escorted the drunk and unruly out the nearest exit; right under our twitching noses in the press area and deposited them onto the pavement right off of the premises. It was hard choosing for those poor, underpaid, disrespected bouncers, I thought, as we were all bathed in sweat, drunk, and unruly. Which reminded me, I needed to get home and check whether Chris and/or The Beacon had brought back my car. Uh...okay Wagner. Word has it she's still searching for her "car." Before I get into the Chili Peppers and wrap up this wondrous weekend, Wagner forgot to mention the enormous outpouring of emotion that Broken Social Scene left people in. The band played 45 minutes and were begged by their fans to play more, but time would not allow it. I may be a bit down on BSS, but I gotta give them respect for what they stir up in people. Unfortunately, I want to blame the Chili Peppers for what they bring out of their fans. I kept worrying, as more and more bodies were pulled out from the front of the photo gate by the stage, that shit was going to go off. It was better to be in the press area on the hill overseeing the stage than it was in the sea of bodies that stood before the funk-rock oldsters. But then I saw that people were pouring out of every vantage point and my worry increased. I had my wife and son with me and there was just that incident at a Family Values concert where a guy was beaten and died while trying to promote courtesy for a pregnant woman as Korn played. Then images of what happened while the Chili Peppers performed at Woodstock '99 came flooding back and I'm a bit surprised I didn't begin to hyperventilate. All of this worry might have been alleviated had the Chili Peppers been rocking it hard, but they were performing their light-ass fare and the crowd reaction vs. the band's vibe was completely out of whack. No matter if the paranoia I exhibited was warranted or not, the music still sucked. Ladies and gentlemen we have our final "worst performance of Lollapalooza 2006." Perry Farrell's claims of them being "probably the greatest band on the Earth today," is totally fucked. They're okay on album and dreadfully dull onstage. Maybe ten years ago, or perhaps even fourteen years ago when the Peppers headlined Lollapalooza this could have been true, but it ain't so now. The first few minutes, where Chad Smith (drums), Flea (bass) and John Frusciante (guitar/vocals) were all jamming out together was the best part of the evening. The three musicians are a tight-knit unit and can really play. But then that thick-tongued goon Anthony Kiedis came out and fucked it all up. To say that Kiedis is the weakest link in this band is putting it mildly. It's obvious he's an imbecile...just try and read some of those lyrics. 50% of them reference California. Nice range of topics. The three musicians in the Chili Peppers have far outgrown this hyper monkey and should work on something and forget to call him. Sooner rather than later. But they love each other it is said and the band is indeed one of the biggest rock acts around at the moment (they had their first number one debut this year), so what the fuck do I know, right? The family all ditched this disaster before the crowd let out. Apparently some people hung around for awhile after the Chili Peppers ended because local radio station Q101 floated a rumor that the Smashing Pumpkins were playing right afterwards. Of course that turned out to be 100% false. While I never did see one show that was as transcendent as Lollapaloozas past, there was plenty of music to be had, a lot of cool art and exhibits to check out, good vibes of the concert goers and most importantly, I got to hang out for two out of three days with friends and family. For that reason alone, Lollapalooza 2006 will always be remembered fondly. See y'all next year. |
