Staff Writer Jon Graef and Contributing Writer April Wright worked together to compile this three-day report on Chicago's biggest music festival, Lollapalooza. Obviously, April and Jon couldn't get to everything; 130 bands played on 8 different stages over the course of a few days. Here's their thoughts on what they did see.

DAY ONE

Eels

Though there were many successful performances during the first day of Lollapalooza, the festival started off with an unfortunate disappointment. By neglecting their more melodic material, and focusing on their bluesier, rock side, eels came across sounding generic and out-of-their-element. Mr. E apparently decided that this was the day to rock. Not a bad thought, but eels simply did not pull it off; it seemed like they were trying to hard. As the age old cliche goes, sometimes less is more.

Stars

On the other hand, Stars' set had a natural charisma, despite their somewhat awkward stage presence. Like eels, Stars focused on their more upbeat, rocking material, but since those songs have a gentle enthusiasm about them, their performance came across as genuine, not forced. Stars Torquil Campbell and Amy Millian harmonized with each other perfectly, giving most songs the bittersweet feel of a couple breaking up due to circumstance.

Ryan Adams

Though Ryan Adams played a tight, blues-and-jam based set, he himself was a mess. Perhaps that shouldn't come as a surprise, but it is still worth noting. Brother spent what seemed like ages talking about his precious goddamned eggs and how they are being discriminated against. He was trying to be Mitch Hedburg and totally failing. Not only that, Adams ruined an otherwise gorgeous, rock version of "Peaceful Valley" by taking the band on a noisy detour. Unfortunately, this was not the only time in the set that he did this. When he did get his act together though, he showed us why he is a songwriter worthy of attention.

Iron & Wine

By becoming more comfortable with his own success, Sam Beam showed that he is not only a songwriter worth listening to, but that he could hold his own in a venue that has techno music bleeding into his gentle folk songs. That was the awkward way that Iron and Wine started. The music was fantastic, but the assholes having the rave a few stages down totally ruined the vibe. Once Iron and Wine started enhancing their sound and adding more instruments, they proved to be a formidable opponent to the festival's party-hearty atmosphere. Particularly good was a re-worked, tropical sounding "Jezebel" from the Woman King EP. A new song played married the heavier, more aggressive sound of Woman King with the gentler sound that made him popular in the first place.

The Raconteurs

For a balls-out shred fest, the Raconteurs sure were boring. The songs themselves were solid, tight and most definitely crowd pleasers, but the band has yet to establish a real stage presence (despite hosting the king of stage presence, Jack White). While the set was very driving and very exciting, much of it had a recycled feel, like the band was just playing the White Stripes leftovers. For a merger of epic proportions, there was a lot of unrealized potential in the group.

Sleater-Kinney

Though it was incredibly sad to think that the one of Sleater-Kinney's last performances would be at Lollapalooza, their racous, insanely compelling display showed why they will be missed. This was easily the best show of the day, if not the entire festival. Sleater-Kinney will not go quietly into that good night, judging by the set's leaning towards material off The Woods. Though there were a few signs of vocal fatigue, Corin Tucker screamed like a hell-bent banshee and she sounded better live than on record at times. Also a highlight was the unique vocal and instrumental interplay on songs like "What's Mine is Yours" and "The Fox." Sweet Mary and Joseph, did they rock. If anyone had any doubts regarding the saving and cathartic power that great rock music can have, all reservations were erased by the ten-minute freak-out of "Let's Call It Love." They will be truly missed.

DAY TWO

The Go! Team

The Go! Team's set was cheerleader rock with enough energy to lead the biggest damn pep rally ever. While break-up rumors are swirling around the band, there were no signs of strife judging by the rousing, crowd-friendly set. They even played some non-album material for good measure. Ninja's promotion from backup singer to wholesale frontwoman really helps the band keep the insane amount of energy and engagement they put in up for the entire set.

Built to Spill

Built to Spill may be in a funk with regard to their recording output, but their live show proved that they are still vibrant. With a strong mix of material from all eras of the band's history, BTS put a strong focus on rhythm and melody (opposed to meandering jams that drifted out into solo-land).

Calexico

Calexico's energetic set moved seamlessly from all sorts of different genres of music, be it alt-country or a more Latin, horn-based sound. A lot of their songs were given an extra budge in terms of tempo, and it made the set more engaging and invigorating compared to their studio output. A new song, "Cruel," impressively incorporated a country music chorus, minor-key guitar arpeggios and trumpet embellishments. For anyone just discovering this band, Calexico's set was a pleasant surprise.

Sonic Youth

Holy Crap, Sonic Youth. Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth! They were both noisy and youthful, and while there was an unfortunate imbalance in the material played (most songs came from hit-and-miss Rather Ripped), this was a band that showed absolutely zero signs of slowing down. On "Do You Believe In Rapture?" Thurston Moore gave Mick Jagger a run for his money in terms of being the strong and sexy frontman.

The New Pornographers

Though we only caught a little bit of The New Pornographers (we were trying to escape from the crowd at the Lips show), we can honestly say that the show rocked. Despite not having Neko Case or Dan Bejar, The New Pornos had a bouncy, cheery pop set that included the best material from all three of their albums. Highlights include rousing renditions of "Bleeding Heartshow" and "The Slow Descent into Alcoholism."

Kanye West

Last, but not least, is Kanye. Though there were some technical difficulties, and someone offstage managed to invoke the Wrath of Kanye, triggering the bitchfest heard ‘round Grant Park, his set showed why he is one of the best mainstream rappers to have ever emerged. But there is a bit of a snag, one that is unavoidable: The Kanye-22, in which the listener wants to hear more Kanye, and less of Kanye talking about Kanye. However, as talking about Kanye is the very essence of Kanye, we forced ourselves into this situation. The whole park was going nuts for him though, and he was genuinely appreciative of the hometown response.

The show was a true multimedia spectacle, the most genius moment occuring when Kanye introduced "Gold Digger." He seamlessly incorporated the old Ray Charles sample into Jamie Foxx's uncanny recreation of Charles's vocal track. In creating his dance party, he also sampled reggae sounds, Gnarls Barkley, and for reasons unknown and/or too brilliant for us to comprehend, "Bittersweet Symphony."

DAY THREE

The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady's set proved triumphant as the band rolled out sexy, clever new songs. Craig Finn and the boys were in top form: animated, drunk and volatile. Finn himself was a madman; he staggered around the stage, putting forth an excellent performance at the mic (and whispering inaudibly without it). The new songs displayed Finn's morbid sense of humor alongside an almost sweet nostalgia. But the band didn't abandon their old material, either. "Killer Parties" and "Little Hoodrat Friend" stood out in particularly as anthems of badassery.

Ben Kweller

Meanwhile, poor Ben Kweller has become a caricature of his former self. On his newer material, Kweller went for a Springsteen/Billy Joel poignancy without having the pathos to back it up. And he drew very heavily from On My Way, which is a substantially weaker album than Sha-Sha. The main problem with Kweller's set - and, frankly, entire career - is his constant attempt to make Serious Rock Music at the expense of what he's truly good at: simple pop songs.

Andrew Bird

Note to Andrew Bird: take your sound man behind the barn and hit him with a tack hammer. He ruined "Fake Palindromes." Take your revenge. Bird started out masterfully, multitasking between his whistling and violin, and then moving seamlessly into a more danceable drum-and-bass heavy version of "Nervous Tick Motion of the Head." Unfortunately, the set began to drag in the middle until the Martin Dosh penned military drum number "Simple Exercise" picked things back up. Bird was disappointingly inconsistent, but still pulled a strong finish with "Why," a violin and whistle piece.

The Shins

I was a bit apprehensive about seeing The Shins, what with the whole Garden State hype that had happened between the last time I saw them and their Lollapalooza set. However, The Shins turned in an infectious set of their poppy indie-rock that was a bit more muscular live than on record. Sure, they rode the coattails of a certain, aforementioned Zack Braff-penned motion picture and also pandered to the crowd by playing all the big hits. But do you know what? I don't mind being pandered to by The Shins. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. The new material played at Lollapalooza sounded exactly like their old stuff. It was pleasant enough, but the group may be showing signs of being stuck in a rut.

Of Montreal

Being on the fringes of the Elephant Six Collective never meant that Of Montreal were a second-rate band. They took the stage in costumes, waving banners to a backdrop of drum machine beats. They played the hits, of course, updating many of them, such as "Oslo in the Summertime" with louder drums and guitars as well as faster tempos. The group also gave listeners a peek at material from their eighth studio album. The new songs conformed to the Of Montreal sound, but picked up some more speed and a glossier, disco type finish.

Wilco

Wilco's set was a nice mid-tempo stroll down awesome avenue. All eyes were on Jeff Tweedy and Glenn Kotche. Tweedy turned up looking like either an old folk singer or a carnival barker, and Kotche played the role of drumming Vishnu Muppet, flailing his arms entrancingly every which way during the show. Tweedy and the boys dished out a heap of new songs, which featured more direct instrumentation and jazz inspired guitars, calling to mind both A Ghost is Born, and the band's earlier work. And fans turned off by Kicking Television need not worry: "Jesus, Etc." has been given a new, crisper take. "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" was also revitalized as a much more driving instrumental piece than in previous live renditions. For fans and non-fans, Wilco proved to be one of the biggest draws, as well as a highlight for the festival.

Broken Social Scene

After a quiet, gentle horn-based start, Broken Social Scene seriously tore up some shit, launching into "7/4 (Shoreline)" with unbridled passion. What was really impressive was that momentum was kept throughout the entire set (something Mr. Bird could have learned from), which consisted of most, if not all, of the highlights from their self-titled record and You Forgot It In People. Not only that, but BSS's performance was incredibly special, as every single member of the Canadian collective was on stage for what is rumored to be one of their last performances for a very long time. Even if the breakup rumors aren't true, seeing Broken Social Scene play at Lollapalooza would still have been a legendary, bittersweet experience: I doubt that we'll see all the band members on stage together at the same time anytime soon.

The back-to-back combination of "Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl" and "Ibi Dreams of Pavement" was a musical experience that soon won't be forgotten. I have never seen a crowd insistently demand an encore like the way the Broken Social Scene's audience did, refusing to leave the area until the Red Hot Chili Peppers had taken the stage. Broken Social Scene was truly heartbroken that they couldn't go on, but were incredibly grateful for the reception that they got.

Red Hot Chili Peppers

After witnessing the greatest festival performance ever, we were in no mood for the Chili Peppers tomfoolery. Their live show is best summed up with a lyric that Anthony Keidis wrote that he imagined would probably never apply to him: "It's a repeat and it's getting old." While they are undoubtedly virtuoso musicians, particularly John Frusciante and Flea, a lot of the newer material simply isn't up to the standards of their original prodigious output. There were some pleasant surprises in the set though, including some wonderful instrumental interplay between Chad Smith and Flea, as well a Simon and Garfunkel cover that came out of nowhere. Mad Props to John Frusciante for that one. While Keidis has gotten much better technically as a singer, he desperately needs some new subject matter.

BY JON GRAEF
Staff Writer

Through a series of not-so unfortunate events, I ended up attending about 85 percent of day one of the Pitchfork Music Festival by myself. The kicker was that day one just happened to fall on my birthday. But when life hands you lemons, I say make indie-rock. And that's what I did, along with many thousands of other fine hipster folk. It was when I stepped off the Ashland El stop in Chicago that I noticed something: a music festival is the only place in the world where you can be alone, but you are never by yourself.

I was constantly surrounded by men of a certain bespectacled, horn-rimmed nature, along with their girlfriends wearing modest (but flattering) tank-tops and sunglasses so big that Bono's shades would retreat in cowardice. Oh, and ironic t-shirts by the thousands. Some of my favorites include "Behind this t-shirt is a winner" and "WWJT-What Would Jesus Tip."

As far as music is concerned, my only major complaint is that most of the major acts seemed to be booked for Day Two. There were still plenty of great acts for the many
people that attended Saturday's show though. The first part of the day one focused on giving local Chicago acts a literal spot in the sun. For this, Pitchfork gets huge bonus points.

First off, on the Aluminum stage (one of the two main stages, the other called Connector) were the Hot Machines, a Chicago trio comprised of two guitarists and a drummer. Their raw, garage-punk sound was a nice way to start the festival, a proverbial kick-in-the-pants of sorts. Singer Alex White looked like Corin Tucker with a righteous perm, and sounded like her too, while guitarist Jered Gummere had the tall-and-geeky Thurston Moore vibe going on.

Their songs were not quite four-on-the-floor Ramones style sing-alongs, but they were certainly faster and catchier than the Sex Pistols. I wasn't surprised at all when their last song co-opted the intro to "Search and Destroy." Though Hot Machines were certainly energetic performers, their set only inspired mild pogoing from the crowd.

Things were more musically adventurous on the Biz 3 stage, which was mostly devoted to jazz acts and DJs. I didn't spend a whole lot of time there, but what I did see was quite special. Some of the older Pitchfork attendees were to be found in the tent. One of the early highlights was a jazz group called 8 Bold Souls. Most of the crowd that was there seemed more interested in getting out of the sun than listening to the cool jazz that was emanating from the stage.

But if you moved up towards the front, you saw an audience who had nothing but rapt attention. A highlight of their set was a song called "Round Town," which began as a sharp, swinging number but then slowed to a polyrhythmic crawl, only to back up again with a bass pluck that resonated for ages. Wow. The 100 or so people who watched the whole thing were in for a treat, whether they knew it or not.

Over on the Connector stage was Chin Up Chin Up, the third Chicago-based group in a row that I saw. I can't decide if CUCU are a more upbeat, funkier Granddaddy, or a kindler, gentler Pretty Girls Make Graves. Either way, the keyboard flourishes and guitar jangle of CUCU provided a nice melodic foundation for the upbeat, danceable rhythms that may get Chin Up Chin Up erroneously classified as dance-punk.

At any rate, the songs were catchy enough to get the slightly-bigger-than-mid-sized crowd dancing. When things slowed down, people were more content to just sway to-and-fro. Chin Up Chin Up's performance wasn't the festival's most memorable, but they certainly gained new fans, including this reviewer.

In my mind, the most memorable performance of the day goes to Man Man, who sounded like Tom Waits writing a math-rock album. After an enthusiastic, botched intro (where the announcer stated that Man Man is from Philadelphia, "the city of brotherly love, veggie Vietnamese hoagies and thick girls"), Man Man started chanting "Hoagies! Hoagies!" After the tomfoolery ended, some seriously and wonderfully demented music started.

The first song played was a hilarious re-telling of a parent-child argument, complete with Man Man's bassist (who resembles Nick Oliveri, if only because he is bald and has a huge beard) screaming "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Did I mention that all of this was set to a contagious 2/4 beat that suggested a tugboat band after a mescaline-induced nervous breakdown? After hearing some percussion that was literal banging on pots and pans, monkey chants, and thrown confetti, one had to come to the conclusion that this was the festival's first truly memorable performance.

The evening's first disappointment in my mind was Band of Horses. Simply put, most of the band's alt-country sound didn't really translate well to the festival setting. Some of their slower material had graceful, Dylan-esque feel, particularly when steel pedal guitar was added. The main problem was that their sound is too much alt and not enough country. In doing further research on Band of Horses, I have read that their sound has been compared to The Shins and Built to Spill. Based on their Pitchfork performance (to be fair, the band's singer stated that they were all feeling ill), I would have to say that those comparisons are not justified.

The event's next terrific performance belonged to Mountain Goats, a folk duo consisting of guitar and bass. Simply put, John Darnielle had an intense energy that would embarrass most hardcore metal acts. His stage patter was genuine and hilarious, suggesting an insanely musically talented Mitch Hedburg. Most importantly their music was the kind of infectious that it was good to spread around, to paraphrase A Mighty Wind. His songs and lyrics suggest that he is a highly literate, indie-rock Bruce Springsteen.

Darnielle performed what could arguably be the theme song of the entire festival, a song about events that should happen, that need to happen, but unfortunately, never will. Most of the song is very funny, as he lists "(the Chicago) Cubs beating every team in the league/and the Tampa Bay Bucs taking it to the top" before getting to "And someday, I will love you again." To the list of the Cubs beating every team in the league, you could add “a music festival that showcases the best of independent music and is truly eclectic." The difference is that the unlikely was happening before our very eyes, and The Mountain Goats set gave everyone who saw it a sense of instant camaraderie.

Which brings me to my second gripe: A lot of the bands scheduled for Saturday's festivities had sounds that, while not similar per se, were certainly in the same ballpark. That sound, of course, was somewhere between neo-punk and neo-garage-rock. While it would be absurd to say that Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Art Brut, The Walkmen and The Futureheads are clones of one another, but when put together back-to-back-to-back-to-back, they made listening to them an arduous experience.

Ted Leo fared the best of them all. Combining dub with the potency and driving rhythms of punk, and you could clearly see that Ted Leo is an incredibly gifted songwriter. Not only that, but his placement of minor chords and descending melodies in songs like "On The Dole" gave Leo a bittersweet edge that the other acts sorely lack. Of course, I don't need to tell you about Ted Leo's lyrical passion and political relevance, both of which make him the love child of Elvis Costello and The Clash.

Next best were Art Brut, who opened with a cheeky tease of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell." In fact, cheeky is a perfect way to describe Art Brut's set. Cheeky, but not ironic. Art Brut rocked hard, and lead singer Eddie Argos perfected the piss-taking, disinterested rock star persona as he sang about "drinking sherry with Bryan Ferry," or detailed the life of a traveling rock band in "Moving to LA." Bang Bang Rock and Roll, indeed.

The second place crowd participation award (first place goes to Mountain Goats) goes to The Futureheads, who tried to divide the audience up for sing-along parts, and was partly successful. Other stunts include simultaneously pointing their fingers in the sky and raising their fists up in the air Black Panther style. Both of which they tried to get the crowd to do. The good news is that The Futureheads were genuinely appreciative of the festival itself, and the audience as well. If half of the bands around today had the respect for the audience that the Futureheads have, then there would be no such thing as a disappointed fan.

The bad news is that the entire time they were on stage, I felt like I was watching someone do an impression of The Clash. That is not an immediately bad thing. After all, everyone fucking loves The Clash. But if they are the third or fourth band in a row who is in some way shape or form influenced by 70s punk, you get the feeling that you've heard it all before. As much as I wanted to enjoy their intensely energetic set, I just felt like I couldn't.

The Walkmen fared worst of all. Though they absolutely deserve credit for trying to expand their sonic palette, adding horns and trying to approximate a mariachi band, most of their new material fell flat. Their first few songs suggested a feedback-laden cabaret, but sounded like wannabe-Dylan. The crowd wildly received the songs that were closer to their old style, but coming after Ted Leo and Art Brut, I felt like I had seen the same thing done much, much better.

If you are a fan of thoughtful, low-key music, then the highlights of your day were Destroyer's mid-day set and the closing performance by the Silver Jews.

First, Destroyer: Daniel Bejar has a voice with the nasal quality of Bob Dylan, and a lackadaisical vocal delivery of Lou Reed. His songs have some of the poppy, bouncy feel of his other band (The New Pornographers), but more often than not, a distinct jazz influence prevailed. From fluid guitar solos to xylophone melodies, Destroyer's set was a low-key, but long, journey down a winding road. Fortunately, Destroyer knows the difference between jammy music and meandering music, and if you were patient enough to observe the performance, you were handsomely rewarded.

Last, (but oh-hell-no-not-least!) were the Silver Jews. Even if they had just stood up on the stage and stared blankly at the audience, it would have been worth it. David Berman has achieved an almost mythic status. As soon as he walked on stage, a person behind me exclaimed, "There he is!" in a state of surprise, if not outright shock. Musically, the Silver Jews did not disappoint. Their set was an incredible highlight for anyone with ears. The Silver Jews occupy the corner of the alternate music universe where Leonard Cohen wrote a classic album called Harvest, not Neil Young.

Berman was only one of two acts who also addressed the recent conflict between Israel and Lebanon, as they had played a set in Tel-Aviv only a few days earlier. Considering that religion and faith plays a strong role in Berman's music, this mention made the set that much more poignant. It is a shame that Berman's group hasn't toured since this year. Hopefully, the triumph of his set and the crowd's rapturous reaction to it will convince Berman to keep on hitting the road.

If day one of the Pitchfork Music Festival can be considered a disappointment (which it can't), it is only in comparison to the unabashed triumph that was day two. More on that in the second part of this review.