Deadmau5
You really had to have been there to know what watching Deadmau5's headlining set at Bonnaroo friday night was like. And by there we mean inside The Spin's head, where a trippy combination of exhaustion, over stimulation and suped-up serotonin levels (because, you know, when in Rome ...) was taking hold. Or inside our chest, where the quarter-note thump of literally the loudest bass drum we've ever heard reverberated through our muscle tissue and rattled our bones with pulse-quickening euphoria. We couldn't tell if it was the, er, dinner we ate before the show or the arresting spectacle of sound and vision that made us feel like we were walking through a marshmallow-carpeted Halloween funhouse as we made way down the side of the crowd while dozens of turnt-up, down-getting, shirtless and/or face-painted rando festival-goers on the other side of a steel barricade gave us enthusiastic high fives.
The DJ known as Deadmau5 didn't just make his debut on Bonnaroo's massive What Stage, he made 'Roo history as the first EDM star to ever play the main stage. But the stage itself — a blinding set of gigantic light-up satellite-dish-looking, 2001-esqu set pieces framing and encapsulating a wide DJ both — itself stole the show. Or rather, the stage was the show, inanimately performing dazzling LED cues cut to the the helmet-hearing auteur's warm electronica. Basically it was loudest pretty picture we've ever scene. That made for a quite an aesthetic contrast to the night's preceding What Stage headliner Kendrick Lamar, who played the crowd like an instrument, capturing all with genuine human emotion, ferocious-but-friendly delivery and raw charisma. Read a full report on that show here.
Deadmau5
Riding high the adrenaline kick of Kendrick Lamar, we coasted over to This Tent, where Run the Jewels kept the storm brewing. O.G. emcee’s El-P and Killer Mike kept a steady call-and-response routine with a crowd just a little too large to fathom between acerbic, politically charged verses over noise-addled beats. The duo has an impressive three-album catalog – especially considering they’ve barely been performing two years now. Their future-shocked, revisionist take on classic gangsta rap is somehow both caustic and fun, and is apparently perfect for getting festival-goers ridiculously amped.
But while Friday night was all about raising roofs and building up to bass drops, day two of the pan-genre marathon four-day festival in nearby Manchester, Tenn. started on a much lower note for The Spin ... literally. And a much browner note. There are so many ways Brown Sabbath, Austin, Tex. Latin funk outfit Brownout’s Black Sabbath tribute set could've gone terribly wrong, but they nailed it. Instead of forcing a funk interpretation, they threw a little swing into the rhythm of iconic blues-based riffs, making plenty of room for brass and percussion in the bargain. And they didn't skimp on the heavy, either: the rhythm section literally made the earth beneath our feet shake, and lead guitarist Beto Martinez unleashed wicked-hot solos that would make the any self-respecting demon quiver with fear. Frontman Alex Marrero was a more than capable stand-in for Ozzy, despite introducing "Sweet Leaf" like a dad: "Is anybody out there going to smoke a joint?" And as far as kids go, during "War Pigs" we overheard a girl excitedly yell to her friend, "Hey, it's that Girl Talk s
ong!" Ugh, fucking hell.
Meanwhile, another Sabbath tribute of sorts was transpiring at That Tent. 2 p.m. wasn’t an ideal slot for Little Rock doom metal quartet Pallbearer, but we’d make do along with a small-but-spirited flock of sun-soaked headbangers. Pallbearer’s dynamic sludgy riffs and melodic base turns out to be pretty ideal for mid-day riffing. Not unlike a smooth IPA or a light roast Columbian brew, the shit’s got a kick but we could sip on it all day. Given how light Bonnaroo has gone on the stoner rock and metal (with exception of Slayer) this year, by Friday afternoon we were already overdue for a therapeutic dose of heavy shit.
The rock soon got lighter back over at Which Stage, where Mike Kerr, the frontman and bassist of British duo Royal Blood, showcased his talent for pitch-shifting blues-rock riffs back and forth, weaving them in between his vocals. But unlike certain other bass-and-drum rock duos we are partial to — Lightning Bolt and to a lesser extent DFA1979, for instance — Royal Blood plays it a bit safer and more predictable. Kind of like Muse's idea of what The Black Keys sound like: very well played bluesy riffs and fills with zero surprises.
The next band we saw was more to our liking. Armed with a phenomenally goofy band name and a seven-piece lineup that includes two drummers, psychedelic Aussie longhairs King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard blasted off from The Other Tent at 3 p.m. Their stock in trade is mean, cyclical, throbbing rock riffs that owe a lot to Californian road warriors Thee Oh Sees in both presentation and style, supplemented by an auxiliary man who swaps from harmonica to keys to maracas and tambo — not to mention frontman Stu Mackenzie on flute for a couple of songs. Some of King Gizzard’s tunes clocked in north of five minutes, full of marathon four-on-the-floor beats that stayed steady as guitars played around with a theme for their duration. The band would occasionally dip into slightly irregular time signatures, breaks and builds, but the mid-afternoon crowd hung in there for every bit of it, head-bobbing and shouting along. Oh, and Christopher “McLovin” Mintz-Plasse was standing near The Spin. He seemed to dig it.
Later at The Other Tent, belying their cumbersome moniker, Unknown Mortal Orchestra's delivered a streamlined, soulful, driving set. All slinky basslines, jazz arpeggios and stops and starts, the four-piece from Portland via New Zealand de-emphasized the headier aspects of the their recordings, putting bandleader Ruban Neilson's Stevie Wonder-ful falsetto out front - but songs like 2011 indie crowd-pleaser "Ffunny Friends" still managed plenty of sweeping instrumental — orchestral — highs.
Against Me!
Making our way over to This Tent, we could hear Against Me! singer Laura Jane Grace howling the hook to the band’s early-Aught fave “Cliche Guevara” clear across the farm. Other anarchist anthems like “Pints of Guinness Make You Strong” and “Don’t Lose Touch” from the band’s turn-of-the-century output followed along with newer tunes, most notably “Transgender Dysphoria Blues." It was a celebration of heart-on-tattoo-sleeve, purpose-driven power-chord pop punk in a time (and place) of A political party music.
If you'd have told us in 2010 that we'd one day be standing in a field with, like, 20,000 people chanting along with Moon Taxi songs, we'd probably have asked for a hit of whatever you were smoking. But it really happened, and there was nary a neon robot suit in sight — though they did turn the VIP area into a sea of shiny cube-shaped ballons as they played "All Day, All Night," the opening track from their forthcoming album. While the (formerly and jam band and still kind of noodle-y) local troupe's super-slick indie dance-pop still isn't our cup of tea, Moon Taxi was on fire. Well played.
Many (including us) have noted Bonnaroo’s slow drift away from its jam-band roots, but if bands the caliber of Dawes are filling the void — base-jumping instrumentally from a foundation of sturdy melodies and oddly detailed, arrestingly spiky lyrics — no problem here. Despite a late-afternoon What Stage spot and threatening skies, lead singer Taylor Goldsmith, his blue shirt soaked through in the Manchester heat, had the crowd singing along by the time the group reached its climactic jam on “I Can’t Think About It Now.” He closed with the benediction, “May all your favorite bands stay together,” to cheers that showed who at least one of those bands might be.
Last time we saw LA’s Mini Mansions, it was at the Mother Church, where they opened for Tame Impala. Late Friday afternoon, the far cozier digs of the center-of-Centeroo Who Stage (formerly known as Sonic Stage) made it much easier to make out the trio's patterned suits and sassy electro hooks. Michael Shuman — also known for playing bass with Queens of the Stone Age — stood center stage playing his stand-up drum kit, taking the lead on songs like the slow-moving, unctuous, appropriately titled “Creeps.” The herky-jerky, bassy synth pop of tunes like “Mirror Mountain” would go over perfectly well in a ’Roo tent around midnight, so that's where we expect them to turn up next time they're on the farm. And hey, we’re still down with the Mansions’ slinky “Heart of Glass” cover.
At 6:30, The Spin strolled up to the blips and bloops of North Carolinian electronic pop duo Sylvan Esso at The Other Tent. The outfit — featuring Amelia Meath (Mountain Man) and Nick Sanborn (Megafaun), who tend to lean toward folk in their other groups — is not unlike Phantogram or Grimes in its coupling of glitchy beats with catchy pop vocals that got hands waving. Material from last year’s self-titled debut was smooth and dreamy if a bit samey after six songs or so, though the biggest goddamn beach ball we've ever seen (we’d guess it was about 12 feet in diameter) kept The Spin’s attention for a while as it bounced over the heads of the crowd.
In light of Kendrick Lamar's monumental main-stage performance — which made even known NYC agitators Run the Jewels' charged set later Friday seem relatively ho-hum — you have to feel for any hip-hop act scheduled for later in the weekend. For Minneapolis' Atmosphere, playing Which Stage earlier, around dinnertime, was probably for the best, as the early-aughts emo-rap MC — in hindsight, two genres that never should've been allowed to breed — despite drawing a decent-sized crowd, struggled to keep its attention. That MC Slug and friends' new material sounds pretty much the same as old Atmosphere didn't help their case, though its tone and sentiment — more posi, less emo — might've, a little.
Kacey Musgraves
“They just pulled that one off the fuckin’ radio,” Kacey Musgraves said, moments after slaying an adoring crowd with her new single “Biscuits.” If so, her decision to skip CMA Fest for Bonnaroo looks doubly inspired: the country phenom gave the kind of performance — and got the kind of reception — that seems pointed toward a main-stage slot. Remember that Mumford & Sons That Tent show? Same tent, different show — but Musgraves owned just as surely from the moment she opened with “Silver Lining” in magic-hour light from the setting sun. Silhouetted again a stylized desert sky, her crack band outfitted in electric-horseman suits of lights, Musgraves pogoed and pirouetted through an expertly paced set that had some audience members singing along to songs that haven’t officially been released yet. The new material shows the same thorny relationship to small-town mores as her breakthrough debut Same Trailer Different Park, and it connected just as hard. That said, the audience singing a cappella the stingingly dejected chorus to “Merry Go ‘Round” at heartrending full volume may be one of the most stunning moments I’ve ever seen at the festival. Bonus points for a killer (and well-judged) cover of “No Scrubs,” a wild version of her Miranda Lambert hit “Mama’s Broken Heart” that came off sounding like Brazilian disco, and a torrid go-go closer of “These Boots Are Made for Walking” that suggests Musgraves is ready for her James Bond theme.
The idea of Alabama Shakes triumphing on Bonnaroo's What Stage has long seemed inevitable to anyone 'round these parts who caught the band's early gigs at The Groove, The Basement or Third man in 2011. Friday evening, as the sun set over Great Stage Park, it happened, and it only took two albums and four short years. Powerhouse frontwoman Brittany Howard and her well-oiled-albeit-rag-tag rock and soul machine didn't let the enormity of the moment slow them down one bit. With her robe flowing and triple-pickup Gibson SG ringing, Howard resembled gospel legend Sister Rosetta Tharpe in form as well as spirit as she led the band through songs from the band's latest, Sound & Color. The new tunes especially weave in a country twang, alt-rock dynamics and other experiments that R&B aliens like Janelle Monae and Prince might appreciate. The crowd, even those who had wandered in early to snag a good spot for Kendrick followed every step of the way.
Over at the Comedy Theatre, Ian Edwards, Michelle Wolf, Nick Thune and Natasha Leggaro all took their turns for the crowd. Edwards opened with a bit about how there are no riots in Beverly Hills unless someone jumps into the pool with cocaine, and he doesn’t mess with a girl unless she’s had an abortion because she can make critical decisions during crunch time. (Writing about stand-up comedy means you write out the word “abortion a lot.) Wolf riffed on how annoying it is that women can grow a new human inside of them but can’t regenerate a limb if they lose one, Thune had an extended tale about his dog eating a pot brownie, and Leggero mentioned that the biggest genetic flaw in women is that they create men.
Hearing M.O.R. white-guy soul-pop coming from The Who Stage all day, even just in passing, was enough to make anyone excited to see the genuine article — in Friday's case Ben Folds at The Other Tent with the sun setting behind him and generically-named New York chamber sextet YMusic in the fold. Since his late-'90s monster ballad "Brick" and well-liked solo debut Rockin' the Suburbs a couple years later, the North Carolinian ivory-tickler's star has receded, along with his hairline, and if you never said to yourself "wouldn't Ben Folds backed by The Books be cool?" you're not alone. Still, even in the absence of his longtime Ben Folds Five bandmates — and older material — Folds' talkative tenor comforted. But with Tears for Fears going on simultaneously at This Tent, three unfamiliar string and woodwind-laden piano songs was more than enough.
Meanwhile, the tender reign of terror ceased on The Who Stage. Some bands are great because they can execute a refined routine, others because they miraculously stay on the brink of falling apart. Nashville's own (by way of Brooklyn) Clear Plastic Masks are a rare group that does both, usually in the same set, while careening from melancholy blues to growling heavy psych. That's precisely what went down at Who for a crowd about the size of Mercy Lounge on a good night. They played old and new cuts, including a few with keyboard wizard Mitch Jones sitting in. Then again, across Centeroo CPM was going head to head against some stiff competition: Dandy, '80s pop icons Tears for Fears ... at motherfucking This Tent.
Tears for Fears
There’s no graceful way to put this, but there’s something weirdly comforting about the faces of Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith. Playing over the speakers to start Tears for Fears’ show was Lorde’s cover of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”, which set a slightly apocalyptic tone that didn’t match the fun that went down, especially when they kicked off the set their own, much more upbeat version of the classic. We got a handful of songs from their first album The Hurting (including “Mad World,”), a cover of Radiohead’s “Creep,” and our favorite “Head Over Heels.” They closed out with “Shout." Kids really did sing along with all this.
“We’ve got 43 years of music to lay on you,” a member of Earth, Wind & Fire promised during the R&B legends' insanely packed late-night Which Stage slot, and everyone was ready for it. This is the way party shows are supposed to be, guys — it was one of the most jubilant experiences of the entire festival. Not only did we get “Boogie Wonderland,” “Sing a Song,” “Shining Star,” “That’s the Way of the World,” “Let’s Groove,” and “September,” — every song tight as hell — surprise guests Kendrick Lamar and Chance the Rapper appeared towards the end of the set to freestyle, making for first the first true only-at-Bonnaroo experience of the weekend.
The Dø, making their U.S. festival debut, had the deck stacked against them, playing the tiny On Tap lounge after 1 a.m. while a sea of dance music surged all around them. A cadre of devoted fans and curious randos still packed the place from start to finish, singing and clapping along to the French duo's funk-tinged electro-pop, augmented by a third member on live electronic percussion. The crowd chanted for an encore for about five minutes, but they'll have to wait 'til next time; the group took a bow and rolled out.
Just after midnight, experimental producer Flying Lotus marched out onto the stage at The Other Tent sporting his trademark mask with phosphorescent eye-holes that make him look like some sort of intergalactic insect. Sandwiched between two projector screen, the L.A.-based DJ controlled an intense and psychedelic audio-visual display of swirling patterns and cluttered beats delivered with a meaty thump that had the kids under the tent ready to party indefinitely. After a mid-set hip-hop interlude, FlyLo removed the mask to assume the identity of Captain Murphy — his Adult Swim-sanctioned, animated rapper alter ego. Lotus is a formidable MC, but didn’t keep it up for long. After switching into full-on EDM mode, a steady knock of blips and crunches was moving this show full speed ahead on into morning.
Odesza
Just as Flying Lotus was getting warmed up, Seattle production duo Odesza were just getting started with a sleek, narcotic dance party teeming with bliss and wonder. Blooming synthetic melodies coupled with bass-heavy beats and a swath of glowing lights to create a dreamy cascade of synths and pop hooks that was still flowing full force by the time The Spin was ready to call it a night.
