Sunday, July 23, 2017

FYF Fest, July 21 - 23, 2017 at Exposition Park

 I always assumed we would be a lock for every FYF Fest forever more. We had hit the last few, even I had gone to the last one before it seemed to hit the big time (and when they were still at the Historic Park, which should have been big enough), and it was a weekend with our friends. So it had become just a regular weekend event, though one we always looked forward to, as possibly our last big summer weekend with everyone (though we had plenty of events in the cooler months, even if they didn't always have anything to do with music festivals), and even more out-sized when FYF went to a three-day format. As such and as usual, we spent a lot of the time drinking together, and many of the bands we saw were just picked up as we were meeting and traversing beer gardens, though that could be as good as any casual sampling could be. This year, I had just gotten back from the San Diego comic con the night before, and Carla had worked the early half of the first day, so it was akin to a local show for us, though with a line-up that could get world-wide attention. We would have done the thing anyway, but the line-up, even with fewer rock acts than we were used to, was exceptional, with plenty of new bands and acts we had never seen, and were fortunate to be here. Even better, we had no problem ever getting in, which we could chalk up to them getting their act together or us just being early or lucky enough to slip in between the cracks. We also got to have Jenn ride over with us, adding to the spirit of all of us together and having a good weekend among the great music and lots of beer.

Friday was the usual day of easing in, if only because we got there later, to beat the early crowd, because of being a weekday and traffic, though it was still a shorter day. Yet we took our time, with Angel Olsen being our warm-up as we were walking in. She’s one of the acts that seems to always make it to the fest, being a local, so we knew she’d be around anyway if we one day got into her stuff, so we didn’t push it and made our way past; Björk had headlined Coachella and plenty of other festivals around the world, as well as being a figure for alternative culture (not always for music, though some reputations can fall away when other elements outlast them). Oddly she got stuck mid-bill for the slowest day, perhaps her own concession just to come over for the show and be done with it, or whatever negotiations we’re not privy to. Even if I haven’t sat purposely through one of her whole shows, I knew enough that a small chunk of her set could be background music for standing in line for beer. Though the joke was on me: Dave said she did “Hyperballad,” which would have been worth it to have sat for the rest of the show; we got the middle half of Survive, which was probably as much Stranger Things synths as we needed (and more than anyone needed a live performance for, besides the fandom for the show, if they anyone would survive the entire fest just for them), while meeting up with Tana; Slowdive were a fantastic get for the fest but being there for the same thing again didn’t have the thrill of their coming out of hibernation and feeling we had something particularly special, as well as the risk that they could just do the same show again. So it became meeting up with everyone in the field for a drink in the early evening (though a chance conversation with Lingo became the seed of a plan that would pay off at the next fest); Missy Elliott was the main draw of the day/night, for as much as we saw as we moseyed over just to check out the headliner. She came up in the ‘90s when I had little to do with pop music and she’s earned her place as a surviving legend in the time since, and it was a big deal that they got her, especially for what was once an alt-music/punk fest, but she could pull as large a crowd as she wanted. There was too much talking between songs, which might be the style, and maybe they were actually saying something, but it wasn’t enough music to keep us dancing for too long. We checked in, could say we were there, then we started to head out; we got Osees (or whatever variation of their name they were using) on the way to the exit -- finally a full-on rock band with plenty of guitars and volume. They sounded heavy and great and probably would have been as good for a full set as the sliver we caught, but it was the plan to leave early so we made our way to go.

Missed: Flying Lotus (apparently a big deal but for us still only a Thom Yorke connection (and now not worth the chance of seeing if Yorke showed up)); Hannibal Buress (a comedian at a festival could be a welcome novelty but we weren’t there for laughs (even for as much as we became fans later on)); Royal Headache (a sampling on Alexa’s Spotify that might have been a good find but we didn't get over there, being too busy casually picking up minimal bits of the other bands).


Saturday was much the same deal, but the comfort of familiarity can be nice when you have a schedule to keep and bands to see. We were there in time to see Big Thief, who we were excited about, but they went on 15 minutes late (deadly at a festival, especially early in the day and for a band trying to break out when they need every advantage they can get), then had sound problems, and were too delicate to make much of an impact anyway. That threatened to be as far as they would go; Mitski deserved more excitement but we barely knew her at the time. Luckily we had foresight enough to be near her set and caught a bit of it, even if it was just a passing distraction while we had an early beer. As it was, we should have paid more attention; we thought Thundercat could be great, for as much hype as he was getting, but it was just a lot of jazz which wasn’t enough to grab the rock fans of us; then Cap’N Jazz weren’t jazz at all, being as much a punk thing as the fest got that year, and pretty good. If we knew they were going to rock that hard, we would have given them more than 10 minutes (which isn’t much more time than their set got in the first place); it was almost a trick to have seen King Krule, as we only heard him because we were passing by, but this was another Spotify scout and he did not grab me in advance and didn’t win me over in person; A Tribe Called Quest were another rap act I missed in the golden age of hip-hop in the early-’90s, but luckily I was saved by Carla’s encouragement later on and I had another rich discovery (if not also an entry into a version of jazz). I got on that boat about as late as possible, and would have missed it completely a day later, but I was able to get their monumental last-ever L.A. show (and without founding member Fife Dawg they might actually make that stick, to say nothing of coming back together to do anything they did, including this, without him). I didn’t have the breadth of fandom to appreciate the entire set, but I knew I was seeing something special and it sounded great, with boundless energy. At least everyone was with me and them on those counts since they pulled an enormous, excited crowd. Maybe it was just for scheduling, but this was a coup over Coachella or any other festival in the world to get them, especially across the country from their hometown, so we could be even more proud of our local festival.

Missed; Frank Ocean (the headliner for the day but that didn’t mean we had to give him time. I had some albums of his but just didn’t connect. He might have been worth the time to get into but there didn’t seem much point after passing this rare crossing of our worlds); Sleep (Rollins-recommended and sounded great at home, but we left early); The Faint (a scratchy, techno, Mid-West band, maybe robots, but I could not get myself to be a fan for as much as I made the effort some years before. Could have checked them out live but would have taken nearly anyone else over them); The Drums (made a comeback years after I took their album out of rotation. Couldn’t bring me back); Built To Spill (who are probably important and maybe I’d love them, but missed again); MGMT (never got my interest beyond those first few singles, and had no interest in making the effort to test it again. Though Dave was a fan, and we could have ridden along on that, but there was probably beer elsewhere); the Black Madonna (Jenn-recommended and  sounded good at home, but one of those last-on late acts that we just didn’t do anymore)


And back on Sunday, same deal. We got most of Chicano Batman, a rock band that went beyond a Latino affiliation, but they were just in the background while we were meeting up with Vanessa (which also meant drinks); you’d know Ty Segall from ever listening to Rollins’ radio show and he’s a local guy who would be there anyway, so we still probably would have checked him out even if Heather’s boyfriend wasn’t in the band. As it was, he sounded great; our biggest excitement for the weekend was seeing Iggy Pop, the man, the legend, and he didn’t disappoint. It’s shameful to have missed him through the years, save for a snippet or two of passing by at a festival, which could have been taken for disrespect or stupidity (or both), so this could just be a limp attempt at a reparation, a bit late but also showing appreciation for his putting out solid, new material (American Valhalla; enough to open with "Dog," flipping one of the greatest closers of all time). We had also watched Gimme Danger not long before, just to twist the knife a bit more, then probably shoved it in the rest of the way to realize that I could have seen that legendary performance at Coachella with the Stooges (who barely knowing at the time became no excuse to willingly leave early). But the only way to live with a concert regret is to at least see the new thing, and Iggy doesn’t age anyway. He was out there writhing and wriggling and screaming and living as much as he ever has, and we got the full effect, as much as anyone could without traveling back through time. It’s hard to even count off a tinge of disappointment when it wasn’t QOTSA backing him, but missing that Greek show is just another to add to the list. If Iggy was another name to bring cred to the festival, he was also an act to show that he lived up to it and that it was a world-class fest to have him (though maybe not such a task to get him since he keeps working); Blonde Redhead, a band I decided I didn’t need to have anything to do with years before, were just our soundtrack while making plans for Vanessa for the evening; Run The Jewels were going to be there anyway, as if there was a festival or show they would turn down, and they still kept turning out albums and getting good placement on fest bills. They turned out to be not my flavor of aggressive hip-hop but seeing a high-energy performance was just the right place for that evening. As it was, I got to enjoy them alone when the girls headed out, and I could get warmed-up for the main event; I admit to not having much expectation for Nine Inch Nails. As much of a fan as I will eternally ever be, and still picking up the new stuff and showing up for the shows (at a festival (most of the time) at least), they were just another good headliner for a fest, and one I’d seen before, at small shows up to other festivals. My level of fandom couldn’t be disputed, but there could be a limit. They were still turning out new stuff that had its moments (if not as angry as it once was or what I wanted from it at one time), and the live stuff still would have the high-points of ages past, but it almost felt like an obligation to see them, and even to stay behind when my lady wanted to go home. The Bakersfield set just before was only okay, most of the pieces of an obligatory run through a show I’d seen before. But still I installed myself in the crowd, closer than I’d gotten for any other act, and got as ready as I was going to be (and assuming the lady next to me wasn’t going to yammer through the whole thing (but she did anyway)). They went on and it could have been any other NIN show with the same set-list he’d been playing for a while, but then he pulled out the rug by ripping into “Wish” as the second song. That was usually in the encore, a blast of rage to send off the good people (or to leave everything on the field before bringing it down with “Hurt”), and that explosion of surprise seemed to state the band was there to tear it up like they hadn’t before, even if the audience didn’t catch it, But I did. From there the set was up in the air, even though they still ran through most of the standards (though with playing "Something I Can Never Have" for the first time on this tour, and a latter Bowie cover), since a festival audience wouldn't react well to deep cuts. But changing up the list early on, for whatever reason they did it besides a whim, set a wild pace that maybe anything could happen. Even though it’s rock n’ roll, there are even still limits, and some of these folks, like the biggest fans and including Reznor, are over 50, so it could only go so far, but the set had more energy than they’d shown in a while, and some excitement if you knew where to look for it. I waited out the entire set, more to meet up with Jenn afterward, but I’m glad I got to catch the whole thing -- it would have been hard to leave with that much energy then not know if I might miss something great. As it was, it was just another NIN show with a hint at some minor surprises, but to say it was a little afield from the usual, and still good, meant that it was exceptionally great. Also learning that it paid well to leave early the nights before, as that place became depressingly desolate at night after the last band.

Missed: Solange (discovering interest in seeing her would be as befuddling as why she was there in the first place), Mac Demarco (headed over to see him but got distracted by beers on the way); Whitney (some interest since they used to be Smith-Westerns but couldn’t get in to the new version as much), Cherry Glazerr (could have been a strong chance but got in too late).


A Tribe Called Quest's set-list:
"The Space Program"
"Oh My God"
"Common Ground (Get It Goin' On)"
"Busta's Lament"
"Let's Ride"
"Dis Generation"
"Mobius"
"Excursions"
"Find a Way"
"Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check" (Busta Rhymes cover) (snippet)
"Whateva Will Be"
"Luck of Lucien" (snippet)
"Butter" (Phife's first verse a capella)
"Spaceship" (Kanye West cover) (Consequence solo on stage)
"Movin Backwards" (Jarobi solo on stage)
"Sucka Nigga"
"Phony Rappers"
"Black Spasmodic"
"Steve Biko (Stir It Up)"
"Buggin' Out" (with Raphael Saadiq)
"Bonita Applebum"
"Electric Relaxation"
"Vivrant Thing"
"Check the Rhime"
"Can I Kick It?"
"Award Tour"
"We the People...."

Nine Inch Nails' set-list:
"Fireman (Angelo Badalamenti song) (intro)
"Branches/Bones"
"Wish"
"Less Than"
"March of the Pigs"
"Something I Can Never Have"
"The Frail"
"The Wretched"
"Closer" (with "The Only Time" snippet)
"Copy of A"
"Gave Up"
"I Can't Give Everything Away" (David Bowie cover) (Farewell Mix)
"The Lovers"
"Reptile"
"The Great Destroyer"
"Burning Bright (Field on Fire)"
"The Hand That Feeds"
"Head Like a Hole"
"Hurt"

Iggy Pop's set-list:
"I Wanna Be Your Dog"
"Gimme Danger"
"The Passenger"
"Lust for Life"
"Skull Ring"
"I'm Sick of You"
"Some Weird Sin"
"Repo Man"
"Search and Destroy"
"Gardenia"
"T.V. Eye"
"Mass Production"

Slowdive's set-list:
"Slowdive"
"Slomo"
"Catch the Breeze"
"Crazy for You"
"Star Roving"
"Machine Gun"
"Souvlaki Space Station"
"Sugar for the Pill"
"When the Sun Hits"
"Alison"
"No Longer Making Time"
"Golden Hair" (Syd Barrett cover)

Mitski's set-list:
"Francis Forever"
"Townie"
"Your Best American Girl"
"Dan the Dancer"
"First Love/Late Spring"
"Happy"
"Drunk Walk Home"
"I Will"
"Thursday Girl"
"My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars"

Ty Segall's set-list:
"Break a Guitar"
"Freedom"
"Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)"
"Finger"
"Orange Color Queen"
"Oh Mary"
"Squealer"
"Candy Sam"
"Love Fuzz"
"Sleeper"
"The Crawler"
"Feel"

Big Thief's set-list:
"Shark Smile"
"Shoulders"
"Great White Shark"
"Mary"
"Magic Dealer"
"Masterpiece"
"Real Love
"Paul"

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