One would think that after 9 festivals and a handful of trips to Austin, I’d have the hang of how this whole thing worked. I’d be grounded and prepared for the pros and cons of festival life. Yet, when my alarm sounded at 3:45 in the morning on Oct 8, I still cussed, tripped over my cats and chucked my alarm across the room. Regardless of it being a day filled with the possibility of 44 different bands and my choice of 6th Street bars, 4 o’clock in the morning still pisses me off quicker than Obama sets off the Republican Party. 
Following two flights (Kansas City to Dallas, Dallas to Austin) I touched down at the airport to be rescued by our new weekend Craigslist roommate. After dropping off my belongings at the house and sitting down for a quick veggie friendly meal at the snack bar, I checked into press around 12:30p.m.
The day started at the BMI stage with Ponderosa, who’s set started at 12:40. While we certainly didn’t intentionally make our way directly to their stage to catch their set, their voices and folky sound reminded me enough of Drive-By Truckers to stop me on my way to The Verve Pipe’s Austin Kiddie Limits HEB stage set. Their sound was certainly strong enough that I look forward to seeing what they can manage following the 2011 label debut, Moonnight Revival. I expect to hear from these guys again.
Following a short and disappointing stint with The Verve Pipe, I shifted my way through the early morning crowd towards the great indie band The Mountain Goats. John Darnielle and company owned their Austin City Limits set, playing to the crowd better than any other band on Friday’s bill. Standing barefoot in front of a fairly large 2:00 p.m. crowd, the band shined through old favorites and revealed new songs, like “For Charles Bronson.” Throughout their hour long set, they swapped jokes and stories with the crowd resulting in an overall feeling in the crowd that this wasn’t a festival set where the band simple rushes through their motions as much as a giant soapbox to story tell from. For those who failed to get to the festival or get out of bed by this band’s set, you missed the best set of the day.
Following The Mountain Goats, I wondered over to the BMI Stage to kill some time before Miike Snow‘s set. What I found there was The Kills. This Nashville, Tennessee band is a cluster of complication. Sounding like a blended version of hair bands, alt. country and Guns and Roses, it becomes somewhat hard to wrap your head around what exactly The Kills are. My first impression, mainly coming from the big ass guitar solos that distract throughout a majority of their songs. When it all comes down they’re just a glorified frat band no different than that playing your local dive. Having heard enough, I head towards the Honda stage.
However, the downward spiral would continue through the next two sets. As well over a handful of people gathered for Miike Snow’s extremely early set, it dawned on me that Bonnaroo has figured something out that Austin City Limits hadn’t. This was the fact that dance sets do not really work when the sun is up. However, the set itself seemed pretty musically collected, including creepy Eyes Wide Shut masks and a special appearance by Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, who helped the band cover his group’s song “The Kids Don’t Stand A Chance.” Overall, a very entertaining set that could have easily been the best set of the festival day had the conditions been right.
Billed as the possible best band of Austin City Limits, I must confess The Black Keys were a huge letdown to me. Their set seemed very lackluster to me, almost as if something were missing. While the vocals were excellent and the instruments were on for the most part, the stage seemed to dominate the duo. Maybe it was the outside elements which sometimes tend to make sounds simply disappear. At the end of the day, The Black Keys set simple was not worth the struggle and fight of the lawn chair jungle. While I know it will be a very unpopular vote, my advice would be to simply stick to the band’s CDs where they shine.
However, one duo who did shine at Austin City Limits was Sup-pop’s Beach House. Their dreamy set filled the air causing a spontaneous dance party that left drunken hipsters skipping around the wall of bright blue festivals that lingered near the Honda stage. Victoria Legrand’s beautiful voice stood out as one of the top of the day as the band frantically made their way through their set. I expect bigger things from this band than they’ve already accomplished, which already is pretty impressive.
I bolted from the area, dodging Spoon’s set for the time being to catch Amos Lee. With one of the best voices in music, this folk meets jazz crooner’s set was easily worth the time it took to get to the Austin Ventures stage. With a sense of calm and charm that is second to none, he undoubtedly found his way into the hearts of more than a handful of the mid-sized crowd that had found its way to his stage.
Following Lee, the time had come for me to face my fear of Spoon. Now, don’t get me wrong, it isn’t as though I’m not a fan of Spoon. In fact, I own all of their records on both compact disc and vinyl. Furthermore, it’s always exciting seeing a hometown kid (Rob Pope) make good. However, the two previous times I’ve seen Spoon play, I was bored out of my mind. They were not very crowd interactive and were back lit to the point that it was like watching shadow cut outs of spoon on stage. Needless to say, I hadn’t picked their set as one of my most anticipated for Austin City Limits.
But to be fair, they proved me wrong. I’d simply be lying if I didn’t say that I walked away from the AMD stage impressed with their performance. Their usage of horns on “The Underdog” was one of the most memorable moments of the 2010 Austin City Limits.
For historic purposes I made my way towards the Honda Stage to check out Sonic Youth for the second time this year. While I must admit that they can still hold their own after almost 30 years of making music, a full day of festival life on very little sleep left me somewhat disinterested. Roughly halfway through the set, I made my way to Vampire Weekend in hopes of finishing up my day.
Personally, Vampire Weekend and I have some issues. We’ve had a very rocky relationship throughout their very short and extremely hyped career. It’s hard for me to stomach the popularizing of Afro-pop by a bunch of rich, upscale Ivy League grads. Now, the problem that I have realistically has very little to do with the band itself. Honestly, I hate their fans. It’s the same group of hype blinded Urban Outfitter junkies who’ll buy anything that American Apparel deems worthy.
However, in the name of unbiased journalism, I decided to swing by and see exactly how the band sold that day’s performance. Things I took away from the set that could be deemed positive are as follows:
1. They were musically tight at a festival. This is impressive in an outdoor setting when sounds can sometimes vanish.
2. They’ve got a great deal of energy. Their set was free of any downtime and dull moments.
3. They managed to draw one hell of a crowd, even against legends Sonic Youth.
However, I found myself annoyed by the uninformed crowd of high school girls and drunken frat boys that surrounded me, stating comments like “yeah! Vampire Weekend is the most talented band at the fest,” and “They are so unique.” Unable to keep myself from pointing out all the flaws in those theories, I decided, instead, to leave.
Having seen Phish once in my life (at Bonnaroo), I opted to never do so again. So I sat up to catch a bit of The Strokes, whom I’d never seen.
Starting a few minutes late with “Is This It” the crowd seemed to forget having to wait for the set. Their undeniably infectious tunes appeared to outshine their New York swagger and hipster bastard attitude. Julian Casablancas, for example, belted out to the crowd, “I can’t see shit because like an asshole, I wear sunglasses at night.”
Regardless of the between song cockiness, I must begrudgingly admit that The Strokes hour-long set was pretty effective. They kept my attention, provided plenty of hits and managed to squeeze in a decent set in a somewhat short amount of time. Besides, it could have been worse. I could’ve been watching the endless guitar solos of Trey Anastasio.
Once was enough, thank you.
