(Jarvis Cocker waited all day for a high-five that never came. Sad. © 2009 Shandra Stephenson.)
Day One: It should go without saying that Virgin Fest '09 is not a festival for virgins; it was a festival for hipsters. The festival gates opened at 1 PM and hordes of them came apathetically trickling in, traipsing around in their colourful sunglasses and baggy black V-necks.
The first band that played, The British Columbians, didn't even have an audience. From the media tent, I could hear their lame attempts to coax the audience over to them. When they finished playing their first song, nobody was even motivated to applaud.
The first couple of bands weren't worth mentioning, so I won't. This was not off to a good start.
Mute Math were the first band to get their audience interested. They were loud and precise, and the drummer was rocking out so hard, he had to tape his ear protection to his head.
It wasn't until k-os that people finally started showing up in adequate quantities. His whole set was a mindfuck of auditory allusions. Starting off with a nod in the direction of Rush and another to Black Sabbath not too far behind, both the rockers and hipsters alike could relate and gave k-os their love accordingly. As his finale, he played his own "Heaven Only Knows" over top of "Stairway to Heaven" in an inspired amalgamation of old and new. The sun broke through the clouds and a sort of euphoria broke out over the crowd.
Broken Social Scene followed k-os with a show so intimate, listening to their set was like sitting at a kitchen table drinking wine with a close friend. "This is therapy! Get on the couch and scream as loud as you can!" they yelled. The audience got right on that couch, and it was here that the festival energy picked up and became a force to be reckoned with.
Next band up was Spinnerette, the second to last scheduled for the evening. Brody Dalle, as badass as ever before, approaches the mic with her guitar in hand. Without even acknowledging their audience in a display of rock diva indifference, the band started, and this was when the weather began to really make itself known. Fork lightning and thunder so frequent and so close together that they overlapped, danger and awe were in the air. By the time lightning hit the lake, half the audience had already turned away from the band to look up at the sky.
Spinnerette had to end early. A wet stage, hot lights and a massive lightning storm don't bode well for public safety. The Roots didn't even get to perform.
(Brody Dalle of Spinnerette, sporting the chunky shades she once killed a hipster for. She's hardcore like that. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)
The first band that played, The British Columbians, didn't even have an audience. From the media tent, I could hear their lame attempts to coax the audience over to them. When they finished playing their first song, nobody was even motivated to applaud.
The first couple of bands weren't worth mentioning, so I won't. This was not off to a good start.
Mute Math were the first band to get their audience interested. They were loud and precise, and the drummer was rocking out so hard, he had to tape his ear protection to his head.
It wasn't until k-os that people finally started showing up in adequate quantities. His whole set was a mindfuck of auditory allusions. Starting off with a nod in the direction of Rush and another to Black Sabbath not too far behind, both the rockers and hipsters alike could relate and gave k-os their love accordingly. As his finale, he played his own "Heaven Only Knows" over top of "Stairway to Heaven" in an inspired amalgamation of old and new. The sun broke through the clouds and a sort of euphoria broke out over the crowd.
Broken Social Scene followed k-os with a show so intimate, listening to their set was like sitting at a kitchen table drinking wine with a close friend. "This is therapy! Get on the couch and scream as loud as you can!" they yelled. The audience got right on that couch, and it was here that the festival energy picked up and became a force to be reckoned with.
Next band up was Spinnerette, the second to last scheduled for the evening. Brody Dalle, as badass as ever before, approaches the mic with her guitar in hand. Without even acknowledging their audience in a display of rock diva indifference, the band started, and this was when the weather began to really make itself known. Fork lightning and thunder so frequent and so close together that they overlapped, danger and awe were in the air. By the time lightning hit the lake, half the audience had already turned away from the band to look up at the sky.
Spinnerette had to end early. A wet stage, hot lights and a massive lightning storm don't bode well for public safety. The Roots didn't even get to perform.
(Brody Dalle of Spinnerette, sporting the chunky shades she once killed a hipster for. She's hardcore like that. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)
Day Two: De La Soul was the first interesting band on the second day. Their voices were clear through the scalding heat, and they were witty and lighthearted despite the fact their audience was melting. They even invited the costumed alcohol-stealing shrubs onstage, proclaiming, "There's nothing like a good bush."
Jarvis Cocker is the next musician to catch my ear as he sings a birthday jingle to Mick Jagger. Sounding like the love child of David Bowie and a unicorn, he also appears to be seven feet tall and an alien. If that isn't a good enough reason to check him out, then I don't know what is.
You know we've moved on to the big fellas when Sonic Youth step out onstage. These aging punk rockers still have it. Kim is still as beautiful as always and just as weird. The band is still playful after all these years, laughing and joking onstage. They all have huge smiles throughout their entire performance and their enthusiasm is infectious.
Metric came onstage happier than I've ever seen them. Emily was beaming wearing a sequined short skirt, a white ripped-up old beater and various tarnished silver necklaces. She smiled the entire set and ended on a hippie-inspired rendition of "Stadium Love", clutching her microphone to her heart and grinning at her audience.
Ben Harper & Relentless7 came on as the sun was setting. Ben said that they were there to play blues, and motioned to the three white guys he has backing him. Jordan Richardson was phenomenal on drums. He looked as though he was out to destroy his kit and just happened to keep time along the way. For the second song, he picked up a pair of maracas and started pounding away with them, carelessly tossing them aside the moment he was done.
(Ben Harper making sweet, sweet love to his mic. Messy, that. © 2009 Shandra Stephenson.)
Jarvis Cocker is the next musician to catch my ear as he sings a birthday jingle to Mick Jagger. Sounding like the love child of David Bowie and a unicorn, he also appears to be seven feet tall and an alien. If that isn't a good enough reason to check him out, then I don't know what is.
You know we've moved on to the big fellas when Sonic Youth step out onstage. These aging punk rockers still have it. Kim is still as beautiful as always and just as weird. The band is still playful after all these years, laughing and joking onstage. They all have huge smiles throughout their entire performance and their enthusiasm is infectious.
Metric came onstage happier than I've ever seen them. Emily was beaming wearing a sequined short skirt, a white ripped-up old beater and various tarnished silver necklaces. She smiled the entire set and ended on a hippie-inspired rendition of "Stadium Love", clutching her microphone to her heart and grinning at her audience.
Ben Harper & Relentless7 came on as the sun was setting. Ben said that they were there to play blues, and motioned to the three white guys he has backing him. Jordan Richardson was phenomenal on drums. He looked as though he was out to destroy his kit and just happened to keep time along the way. For the second song, he picked up a pair of maracas and started pounding away with them, carelessly tossing them aside the moment he was done.
(Ben Harper making sweet, sweet love to his mic. Messy, that. © 2009 Shandra Stephenson.)
Virgin Fest '09 had all the makings of a fantastic summer festival but overall, it felt underpopulated and didn't have much momentum until it was almost over. The lightning storm however, made it a festival to remember.
* * * * *
Our lazy-ass editor Benjamin Luk would like to apologize for the lateness of this post. Yes, we're fully aware Virgin Fest '09 took place a full two weeks ago but did Ben give a crap? No, he was too busy dicking around in San Francisco and neglecting his editorial duties.
Send your hate mail to info@benjaminluk.com and tell him what a douchebag he is. Select e-mails will be published in an upcoming Editor's Note.
1 comments:
Love your description of Jarvis Cocker :D
And do my eyes deceive me or does he now have grey hair? :o
For some reason the image I have in my head of Jarvis is circa 1995 - I tend to forget that people get older, lol.
Post a Comment