...so after much chatter & anticipation on my part, last thursday, i finally took myself a lil vacation out to chicagoland for three days of city-roaming adventure & festival music & hanging with ms allison, lover of sparks in moderation & owner of a much better camera than i. the festival--the annual indie rock shindig put on by pitchfork in union park--began on friday night & since she was doing the working thing during the day, i decided to do some exploring. basically, i walked from lincoln park down to wrigley, trained it down to millennium park for a bit & then trained it up a couple stops on the red line to chicago ave & along the way, hit a record shop, a taco joint, a CVS & a mostly empty cafe (inspired by a nyc joint) for a few 4pm beers.
the first night of the festival featured sets from a lineup of old-timey indie rockers--tortoise, the jesus lizard, yo la tengo & the headliner, built to spill. it was a "write the night" day (the fans voted on the setlist) & it was also apparently "thirtysomething indie rock fan night." we missed tortoise, but got there in time for the jesus lizard, which, as expected, was a bunch of chugga chugga guitars & a sweaty dude jumping into the crowd. i've had my fill of yo la tengo, so they were background music. as it got dark, built to spill closed out the night. i'm only vaguely familiar with them, but seriously enjoyed their set & even recognized a few songs here & there.
on saturday, we arrived at the park mid-afternoon, just as fucked up were finishing up & i did three hours straight of hopping between the three stages, catching a little bit of every act playing during that time--the pains of being pure at heart (solid fuzz), bowerbirds (folky), final fantasy (twee), ponytail (bouncy), yeasayer (yawn), wavves (eh) & DOOM (lots of white boy dancing & head bopping). after that string, i ran into a chicago-based friend who i know from nyc & we waited in line for the bathroom for 40 minutes, catching up before we headed over to watch beirut. she was there to see them & pretty much nobody else, but i wasn't all that impressed with them. the night ended with the black lips on one stage & the national on the main stage & we hung out & watched the national. my assessment: weird headliner, too slow at times, quite good when they actually rock & fall into garbage cans & whatnot.
the final day started pretty early. i'd considered heading in at 1pm to check out the mae shi (who apparently played their last show before all but one band member left the band), but decided to pass on them & instead began the day around 2pm with scotland's frightened rabbit. i expected them to be boring, but they sort of rocked & are now my 2nd favorite rabbit named musical act. sorry, eddie. when they finished up, we moved on over one stage to check out portland's blitzen trapper. i don't know much by them, but that furr song (live/video) rules. from there, we caught a few songs by women before heading to the main stage for the thermals. i friggin love them. in addition to their own rockin ass, jumping jack inducing songs, they played covers of sonic youth's "100%" (which i missed), nirvana's "sappy," the breeders' "saints" & green day's "basket case." SO GOOD. after them, i caught parts of sets by the walkmen, japandroids, m83, grizzly bear & mew. very impressed with the first two, not at all with the last three.
the flaming lips were on the main stage to close out the festival, with the very best playing opposite them on the schedule. for the lips, we were so far away from the stage & removed from the spectacle that we decided to check out the very best instead. three words: nighttime dance party. we boogied for a bit & they finished up with an actually slightly touching remix of michael jackson's "will you be there." the lips were still on, so we headed back to catch the end of their set. we got to hear "yoshimi" & "she don't use jelly" before they closed up with "do you realize?" as we left the park with the lips still playing, wayne coyne was still repeating, over & over again, the words "do you realize?" i don't think he realized the festival was over & it was time to go home. i hope somebody eventually told him.
#112 - fork n stick goose berry.
snack: the chicago diner corn dog
drink: goose island brewery 312 urban wheat
my eating strategy for the festival was essentially to eat beforehand & then subsist on beer & cigarettes all day long. classy. although there were a ton of vendors there, i only ended up getting food on the last day. my twice-tasted delicacy of choice that day was a corn dog from the chicago diner, who had a booth set up along the main strip of vendors. since the chicago diner's been "meat free since '83," it was one of them veggie-type corn dogs. side note: this girl also came from new york to eat both corn dogs & (weirdly coincidentally) the jerk seitan sandwich at earwax cafe in wicker park--my saturday pre-concert meal. i didn't even notice that i was being followed.
the veggie corn dogs...you can't go wrong with a corn dog, especially since it comes on a stick. these chicago diner dogs came on a spear, which was pretty cool, because after i finished sliding the corn dog into my mouth & sucking the remaining corn dog juices & batter from the spear, i could jab it into the ground to mark my territory. i spaced & forgot to add condiments the first time around, but wised up & lathered that dog up with a zig-zaggy line of ketchup the second time. mmm veggie corn dog.
goose island was the official brewer of the festival & when i approached the beer booth for the first time, i didn't realize that they had two kinds on tap--the i.p.a & the 312 urban wheat, so i asked for a "goose island." the women looked back at me with scorn & said "goose island is a brewery." oh really, lady? thanks for the enlightenment. since i'm all about tasty wheat beers, i opted for the 312 & stuck with it throughout the weekend, since i was scared of the other alcoholic choice--sparks.
goose island has been brewing for over twenty years & they put out a ton of tasty beers & sodas. the brewery's named for the only island in the chicago river & the 312 urban wheat is named for the downtown chicago area code. throughout the weekend, i gained immeasurable pleasure from asking for a "three-twelve" instead of a "three-one-two." oh the "oh dumb kid from some other place" looks i got for that. priceless. i'm sure they got that all weekend long, but them cats need to chill. i've got the 4-1-1 on the 3-1-2, yo & even if i didn't...no need to stress over it, chicago. i tell you what...if you promise not to stress over it, i promise i won't make fun of you when you come here & mispronounce "houston st." deal? deal.