The lineup for this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago’s Union Park didn’t thrill me. Plus, the forecast for the weekend called for rain nearly the entire time my wife and I would be there. Still, the tickets were free (Thanks, Nivas of WSND!) and there were some acts I definitely wanted to see, so we made the trip.
We got there just in time on day one for rain and Melkbelly. The Chicago punks were the second band to play and they unloaded a loud set of fierce shredding. The rain also stopped while they were playing, so I took it as a good omen.
Up next was Lucy Dacus, who played a nice set as the humidity rose from the sun emerging from the clouds. She talked about her fear of being electrocuted and how she was rearranging some of the set list to avoid too much playing guitar near standing water, but she did fine and was lovely to hear.
Natural Information Society‘s psychedelic jazz set was just two songs and it lasted nearly forty minutes. It was hypnotic, peaceful, and perfect for a warm and wet afternoon.
One of the weirdest parts of the day was Tierra Whack‘s twenty-minute set. She replaced Earl Sweatshirt who had cancelled. Whack’s DJ played parts of hip hop songs to warm up the crowd. It didn’t work all that well, mostly because he didn’t play whole tracks and he kept yelling variations of “Hey, Chicago!” over and over to the point where it became pandering. Whack came out and performed her entire debut EP, Whack World, which is only about fifteen minutes long, and then left. “That was weird,” my wife said. Yep.
Electro-pop outfit Mount Kimbie played a nice set on the far side of the park, and it was a nice warm-up to Tame Impala‘s closing set, which suffered from bad volume mixing. “It sounds like AM radio,” said one woman behind me. Her friend added, “Nothing like listening to Tame Impala through a tin can. Thanks, Pitchfork!” The crowd was yelling, “Turn it up!” at one point. We left before chaos reigned.
Day two brought less rain and we started the day with a great set from Zola Jesus. She came out in a red veil and looked like a witch from a Dario Argento movie. She seemed to have a great time. “She could sing anything with that voice,” my wife said. She’s right.
Our friend, Nivas, told me to check out Moses Sumney‘s set. Mr. Sumney wasn’t on our radar, but we’re glad we took Nivas up on the suggestion. His set was a good mix of soul, gospel, R&B, and jazz.
Another soulful highlight was Raphael Saddiq, who is a dead ringer for Lightnin’ Hopkins. Sadie played a fun set of bluesy R&B that had a lot of folks dancing.
I got all hipster by dragging my wife to see prog-rock legends This Is Not This Heat. It was a loud, dark prog-rock show with songs about nuclear warfare, consumerism, and painful lessons of history. It was neat to see some legends. I even scored a couple autographs.
We left early again in order to get a decent meal and came back on day three just in time to see Kelly Lee Owens. Her self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year, so she was the main artist I wanted to see at the festival. She didn’t disappoint. She put on a great electro-dance set that had everyone bouncing. It was a crime that she only got to play for 40 minutes.
Japanese Breakfast played after her, and they were quite popular with the crowd. Their stuff is a mix of shoegaze, dream pop, and straight-up rock. A big favorite among the crowd was their cover of the Cranberries’ “Dreams.”
We wandered over to the main stages to claim a spot for the two closing acts and ended up hearing all of DRAM‘s set. He had excited to be playing for such a large crowd and on such a beautiful day. He wasn’t bad, but after the fifth time he yelled, “If you love your momma, say ‘Yeah, dawg!” it became repetitive.
People were fired up for Chaka Khan, who looks and sounds great. The line dance that broke out near us during “I Feel for You” was a treat, and the whole crowd, men and women alike, was jumping during “I’m Every Woman.”
Lauryn Hill closed the festival. There was talk that she wouldn’t show up, despite being there for a sound check at the beginning of the day. She came on stage twenty minutes late, which I’m sure drove the stage manager nuts, but she showed that her chops haven’t diminished in the last twenty years. She played the entire “Miseducation” album and had a sharp backing band. They had to be ever-vigilant because she was constantly stopping some of them or having them alter their volume and tempo on the fly. She also seemed to have endless problems with her microphone and monitor, judging by how often she tapped the mic and her earpiece. Still, she sounded great. “It wasn’t as epic as I thought it would be,” my wife said, “but I’m glad I got to see her live.”
That pretty much sums up Pitchfork for me this year. It wasn’t as epic as last year, but I’m glad I went. Let’s hope the 2019 lineup is better.
Keep your mind open.
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