Head Games

DAY 3


Sunday is always a mindfuck.








Sam Roberts Band - The first song of the day: Oh, Canada

The large and proud canadian contingent spontaneously bursts into their homeland's anthem several minutes before the band takes the stage. I'm pretty much surrounded by singers. Not sure if they are all actually Canadian or if they're merely socialist sympathizers, but it is quite the rendition. My initial reaction is to be annoyed, but I am not even sure why. Maybe it's because I hate the Montreal Canadiens. When it's all said and done I applaud the effort, but still choose to conclude with the following sentiment:

"Nationalism is for queers."


Sam Roberts is popular in Canada but not so much in the US. The early set is always difficult since both the band and audience are still (most likely) shaking off the fuzz from the night before - Especially a festival crowd. It could be best described as a decent set. It starts predictably with the opening track from their latest album and begins to pick up steam halfway through the set. If anything, the attractiveness of the band seems to be what won new fans over, if at all.

My elbows are sweating at the moment. Is that even possible? It's barely noon!

Some people are choosing to bunker down in one location. It seems that the last 48 hours have begin to wear on some. I am trying to maintain energy, but it is difficult.

Ra Ra Riot - A Close Friend is super excited about this act, so I stroll back across. They fit the mood, and I'm in no condition to evaluate their sound. So I stand there, looking around at the skyline, and more than anything just zoning out.

I have to be somewhere...

Oh, that's right, mama is calling me Home.

The Greencards - One more time at Mama's Place for my homer pick of the weekend. I met the lead singer and bassist for this band earlier in the summer and she was really nervous about the Lolla experience. I mean, bluegrass at Lolla? Not a top draw, but certainly a pleasant experience. The set is rife with sound difficulties, which is unfortunate, but they play through it. First fully seated audience of the weekend, but I've never been into following the crowd. By the end of the set, there is a good 10-14 rows of people dancing, and regrettably, clapping.




*Only encore I witnessed during the entire weekend. Also, only 5-minute soliloquy on why you should buy a band's album during the entire weekend. Good with the bad, I guess.

At the same time, Deuce is fudging his undies over at Portugal, the Man

I remain Home for a few more minutes with my Sidekick, enjoying the shade, fearing what awaits beyond the arches, in the land of heatstroke.

We're encouraged to make our way over to Shiti to meet up with BC, the hangover twins, who are hibernating beneath the trees Stage Right. I get separated from the pack, and for the first time all weekend, I begin to stop being interested in dodging and circumventing the crowded masses that occupy my perceptual landscape at every turn.

We catch the end of the ever-so-Myspacey Cage the Elephant and they are forgettable for the most part. And then, while lying in the shade, I realize that Shiti ain't all bad. I mean, aside from the acts that generally graced the stage over the course of the weekend.

Like, Gang Gang Dance...

I'm missing the Deacon, let's move.

Dan Deacon, that is - Best party of the festival. Multiple percussionists was a trend throughout the weekend, starting with Hockey, to the Decemberists, on down to TV On the Radio. But Deacon's are killing me... In a good way. I'm in the sun now, sweating and dancing, and embracing the moment once again.




At one point Deacon gets the crowd to clear out a circular area in front of V Dub so that an interpretive dancer can fill the void and show everyone how to be super-weird. There's a lot of that going on, but it works.

Deuce and I take one last stroll to the Northside before bunkering down for the big acts later on. Head to the CD tent to have a looksee. Neko is playing in the background, gently massaging my hazy, yet slowly emerging brain.

The Greencards are selling their album for $20... No wonder they've only sold 3.

Deuce picks up a few new albums, but thinks better of it. Better off supporting Zia, or Newbury.

Heading South again, we stop one last time at Shiti for some Passion Pit. Enjoyable is all I can superficially say about it.

Oh, and the Lolla staff has begun handing out free bottled water, and they officially win me over. The festival had been run extremely well up until this point. Aside from a small delay getting in Saturday morning, I have had no complaints. Food was always available, varied and with short lines, fluids were reasonably priced, and the emergency response crews appeared to be ready and accessible. And the free water thing just slayed me. Tip of the hat to you, gang.

Cold War Kids - Who never really wow you, but never really let you down either. I remained where I was; firmly stationed between The Future and V Dub, and directly next to the BAR BAR BAR, for obvious reasons.

And then it happens

Nahnahnahnahnahhh...




Snoop Dooooogg - (In yellow) Deuce and BC stream down closer to the stage but I tell 'em that I'll hang back and "watch the stuff". But Snoop brings it. I was only sort of excited to see the D-O-double G, but he damn near brought the sky down during his set. And what the fuck? A House of Pain cover? Holy shit. Sure snoop, I can jump around for yuh.

In all honesty, I expected the set to be mediocre at best. Hip hop is seriously hit or miss, but Snoop put this one into the upper deck.

I head over to the BAR BAR BAR and decide to roll the dice. I pick out a winner and say to the man, "4 Lights". I receive the same response, followed by 4 Bud Lights. I'm the fucking MAN! Prior to this point, a firm "2 beer per person" policy had been in place all weekend, yet I manage to work around it (Toot! Toot!).

And suddenly, I don't want Lolla to end...

Silversun - Picks up as soon as Snoop is finished soiling my undies.

Meh. These are guys are OK in a harmless sort of way.

Apparently martial law has been declared up at the North End of the grounds where Lou Reed won't stop playing and all the Band of Horses fans are sick of being stimulated by interesting music.

Low blow. I apologize.

There's a mutiny in my group and people just start walking to the Northside. I'm all like, "Nah."

My relationship with The Killers is ambiguous at best. I don't know nearly enough about their music to make a serious judgment, and I know too much about their personal lives to take them very seriously. Nevertheless, I determined on Friday, just before the Decemberists set that I was going to see The Killers and get educated.

So I did.

The Killers - Played a great set. Well, at least the first four songs sounded really good. With the exception of the Greencards set earlier, the sound quality festival-wide improved with each show, peaking during the Killers. BC remain at the festival while I am forced to leave, and subsequently report that the Killers maintained the same energy throughout.




And so it goes. Lollapalooza 2009 in the books. I'm not quite ready to go through the revolving door that shoots me back into the real world, but I'm sure will wait for me. Cheers, Chitown.

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Omissions and shared stories in the comments, if you would be so kind.