Monday, August 17, 2009

Loyal Tease


The Precarious Case of Festival Fandom



Playing an early morning set at a festival such as, I don't know, say Lollapalooza has to be one of the most difficult draws for any band (Especially if you happen to be in a band called Hockey). Unless of course said band typically plays their shows in the morning and neither travels nor parties... Ever. First off, the festival crowd is the smallest it is going to be all day. Meaning that there could be any number of potential converts not at the park because they're still in bed, en route, or they only dropped $200 to see The Kings and The Killers and don't have time for The Whothefuckaretheys.

And even the people that are in attendance, either out of previous experience with the band or due to an open-minded willingness to hear your tale are just getting into the groove. Like it or not, but you're just an icebreaker.

I happen to be a pretty big Sam Roberts fan, but even still, it took me a good three or four tunes before the juices started to flow and I could really get into it. And you can even see it in the band's faces and feel it in the energy output (most notably when the audience was instructed to belt out the lyrics, I think my life is passing me by, and couldn't really bring it like Sam was pleading us to). Musicians feed off of the energy that the crowd is giving them. The phenomenal performers can rise above anything, but at 11:30 in the morning even James Brown is still wiping away the previous day. And so are the fans in attendance. And thus, the half-assed tug of war begins; both sides waiting for the other to make a move.

This is further compounded by the logistics and nature of the festival itself. The park is large and there is music literally playing at every second of the day. And this "problem" does not just apply to those bands that open the festival. It applies to one and all (even the bands that close the day contend with one other popular band, as well as those unwilling to deal with the traffic once the day is complete, who flee the scene prior to the end of the set).

Generally, at any festival, loyalty is very limited. The average attendee has two or three bands that are must see, and the rest are either unnecessary, or merely if-convenience-permits. I'm not saying that the average Lolla ticketholder is closed to new bands or experiences, but at the same time, I am. And it's not just the Lollers, for this applies to music fans in general, mostly due to the comfort we receive from the familiar, and the natural fear and/or apathy we have of the unknown.

At any given show, the average attendee is there to see the headliner. Opening acts may receive some attention depending on the scale of the show (and often times the caliber of the act), but again the sum of attention is uneven and wavering. Attendees cannot simply leave the venue (usually) and catch the other band playing around the corner. They are where they are, and the focus of the show will be coming on at any time now. In other words, the attendees are fully invested in that one, singular act. They live and die by it, to put it dramatically. It can make one's night, or ruin one's night, but for better or worse, you are stuck with it, since it is the only game in town. So shit yeah, play a mother fucking encore! I ain't got nowhere else to be!




The lack of competition at a given show is what separates a festival set from the former (specifically, music-wise). As mentioned earlier, bands rely on the energy provided by the crowd. Of course, the thrill of being at such a monstrous and high-profile event such as Lollapalooza should provide plenty of energy on it's own. However, when you are dealing with an audience that is not fully committed, as well as one that is constantly in flux, concentration must become an issue (Hey, where the fuck are you going buddy? What - I don't rock hard enough for you? Oh, Tool is coming on in 4 hours and you need to rub one out just so you don't explode midset?). Or something like that.

Nothing demonstrates the difference more than the lack of the encore at a festival (Regardless of your personal feelings on the legitimacy of the encore itself). Sure, logistically encores can be difficult at a festival. They run on a tight schedule and the smallest disruption (especially if early in the day), can not only shorten the next set, but could disturb the peace at a competing stage where there is potential for musical crossfire. But, would an extra 4 minutes here and there really make that big of a difference? Do roadies really need 45 minutes to setup shop, and tune the instruments?

Rather, the missing encore seemed to stem more from people having one foot in the water and one foot out, leading to a heavy stream away from the concluded set, as soon as the band made their move toward the exit. Tact would suggest that if you did truly enjoy the set, you should wait, continuing to applaud until it becomes clear that they're not coming back. But at the festival, it was as if the school bell rang and class was over. Who's up next, and on what stage?

Ultimately, there is no normative judgment being made with respect to the quality of festival audiences. These are the same people who are at The Metro on Wednesday nights when Calexico is in town. And any deficiency that such tendencies would suggest are vastly outweighed by the overwhelming benefits that the festival offers. The main point is that a festival set is vastly different from any standard show set played in a different setting or venue, and that while bands can certainly benefit from being slotted to play at festivals, anomymity and a tenuous grasp on the collective audience leads to issues for a band not normally encountered at a standard show.

But it would still be nice to get a fucking encore every now and again.

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