Author: David Medsker (Page 85 of 96)

The first half of my day was totally wrecked, but the Mayor of Simpleton, merely doing his duty in increasing our overall coverage, benefited greatly in the process.

Mix Master Mike: Beastie Boys DJ, playing a gig at the Hard Rock Hotel. Air conditioning, free drinks, Playstation, pinball, free food. What’s not to love? Nothing, provided that you don’t care if MMM is at least over an hour and a half late. I met Whitney Matheson, who does the Pop Candy blog at USA Today, but never saw MMM before I had to head down to Grant Park. Wolfmother, dude. WOLFMOTHER!

But we’ll get to that in a minute. How was the Go! Team, Mayor?

Mayor: Fucking awesome.

Chauffeur: Sigh. I knew it.

Wolfmother: There is no question that these guys bring the rock, but I have to admit that the songs didn’t exactly stick themselves in my cerebral cortex and bounce around. All I remember was that they rocked, and what appeared to be the entire city of Chicago rocked with them.

Gnarls Barkley: Six words: tennis outfits, “We Are the Champions.” Okay, one more word: AWESOME.

The Dresden Dolls: I covered them while Mayor checked out the Smoking Popes, and I have to tell you that the Dolls absolutely exceeded my expectations. Plus, you have to give points when a dude and a chick, on piano and drums, wearing white makeup, cover Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs.” And knock it out of the park. I got a picture of the cutest girl in the front row, dressed like a Doll. God, that makeup had to have been death to wear in such humid climes.

Flaming Lips: Greatest, opening, ever, and I mean EVER. In all of the concerts I’ve ever seen in my life, the Lips’ intro is one I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Alien girls to my left, Santa Clauses to my right, while the band plays “Race for the Prize,” my favorite Lips song. An instant classic.

New Pornographers: Seemed almost Amish after the display that the Lips put on, but they still killed, though where was Neko Case? Probably plugging her own (great) record, but still. The show is in the backyard of your adopted hometown, girl!

Tomorrow: Day Three: One day too many

I am a little late to blogging the last two days’ events, but I thought I’d catch you up on some of my favorite Lolla moments so far.

Eels: We walked up to their stage about 20 minutes into the set, and didn’t even recognize the band onstage that was pretending to be the Eels. The Mayor of Simpleton and I are pretty well versed in the Eels’ catalog, and neither of us actually thought that was the Eels. So we went back down to the southern stages, which takes about an hour and a half, top to bottom. I’m only slightly kidding.

Editors: Not much in the way of a magnetic stage presence, but DAMN, did they sound good.

Secret Machines: Here’s my impression of their drummer: EAT DRUMS! EAT DRUMS! No, Animal, beat drums! BEAT DRUMS! BEAT DRUMS! That guy’s a monster.

The Raconteurs: The little girls love Jack White. Even though they’re right up front screaming their heads off, and can see that pasty, straggly haired Jack White, they still love him. The guys love him, too. When they played “Steady as She Goes,” there were about 100,000 people pogoing. Even better, they did a cover of Gnarls Barkey’s “Crazy.” Sweeeet.

Violent Femmes: Wow. I had no idea how good these guys were live. I’m sick to death of their first album, but they are undeniably fun in concert. Plus, they cracked a great Spinal Tap joke with their intro.

Death Cab for Cutie: Two shots in, my camera’s battery went dead. D’oh. Oh well, the band was backlit, and we were under a no-flash photography order.

Coming up next: Day Two: better than Day One.