Pitchfork in the Park - Day 2

Arriving just in time to beat the “in-between-set” surge, the Liars took the stage under a summer sun, fronted by God’s giant magnifying glass. It is a wonder how Angus was able to march around barefoot on that black topped stage, amidst the slurring drum thuds, and drenched looping noise that his band mates were creating. But with Liars being otherworldly, it really is quite unnerving to know that for them, within the state of their music, normal bodily functions and pains go unnoticed and life undisturbed. So is much of Drums Not Dead, an ethereal, sideshow trip down a memory lane of dark faced tomorrows - days that we have not yet met though feel ever present. In that context, it is understandable that Liars live show is completely captivating, and yet completely nonsensical. There is no beginning and no end to their sets, and the short escapades into reality for Angus to shed his outerwear for the more the comfortable blue sundress, are only to flirt with the listeners to come and join in the world they are creating. Without being overwrought, yet trying to do justice to the experience that is Liars, their set might have been the biggest vacation that I have had awhile.

Positioning seemed to be everything over the weekend, and it seems we lost that fight during Mission of Burma’s set. During Mission of Burma’s set, the sound traveling from stage to ear became muted by the overpowering flood that was the Biz tent, and therefore left much to be imagined. Fortunately, we were able to get somewhat decent seats for the Devendra Banhart Band.
My first live experience with Devendra and backing band is timeless. The communal feel, and carefree dancing that was alive within the walls of the Vanguard Theater, seemed to have forgotten its invitation to Chicago, because that same essence came through in very small doses. It makes me question if I am forever doomed to live a life of, “remember whens,” when thinking about Devendra. It seems as though this new incarnate known as the “Devendra Banhart Band” is a little too much “band” and not enough “Devendra.” Of course we want to have that community of artists, and be able to bond within it, but not if it takes away from the experience of the music and how we interpret it. Listening back to older Devendra makes me hope for a different future, where the focus becomes the music again rather than some idealist movement that is hard to nail time and time again.

After hearing about Spoon’s live show from numerous accounts, I was excited to see how much “rock” they could really put in front of “roll.” Britt Daniel really is doing something special in his songwriting, when it is able to travel across a crowd of thousands and still be effective. The thousands that struggled through heat and humidity that day to hear Spoon’s crunchy chord conjunctions and bent knee beats, couldn’t have been let down. After Sunday’s performance, going back to Gimme Fiction and taking into account the sweat and smiles that surrounded Spoon’s set, there is a special memory that now surrounds such perfect pop gems as “I Turn My Camera On” and “I Summon You.”

Will you see us at Pitchfork next year? It is hard to answer that one. I think I might need a year to recover and rejuvenate from the amount of sweat my body gave off during those two days. But at the very least, Pitchfork will be a fond memory connected with a city, a community, and the music that I love so much. Thanks Chicago, thanks Pitchfork, and thanks for reading.

Day Two Roundabout

[mp3] Liars – Everyday Is A Child With Teeth
[mp3] Liars – Mr. Your On Fire Mr. (Peel Sessions)
[mp3] Mission of Burma – Wounded World
[mp3] Devendra Banhart – We All Know
[mp3] Spoon – I Turn My Camera On (Demo)
[mp3] Spoon – Target (Live)

Bonus Outtake: This is really how we slept (and yes the mustache is real).

Thanks for the couch Lauren!