Photo: Josh Cox
Hirsute well-read aesthete duo whine about the lineup on the Green Line.
“Dude, Pitchfork really lost its mojo.”
“How’s that?”
“Check it out, man. Last year we had, like, Spank Rock, who incited, like, this big orgiastic stage invasion, right? Then we had the chubby chick in Bonde do Role break her fuckin arm in half, all followed up by CSS looking real like fuckin leotardy and hot. My question to you, dude, is, what do we got this year?”
“The New Pornographers.”
“Last year’s Lollapalooza. Who else?”
“Uh, Cat Power.”
“Last year’s Bonnaroo. Next.”
“Sonic Youth.”
“Lollapalooza. Last year.”
“Yeah, but they’re playing—“
“I don’t care what they’re playing. Were you even born in 1988?”
“Hold on….give me a minute….Yoko Ono. We got Yoko Ono. She didn’t play anywhere last year.”
“She killed The Beatles, man.”
“What do you care? Were you like born in 1963 or something?”
The duo disembarks. The two of them amble down the stairs toward Ashland. Yes gentlemen, the same bands do play the same festivals, year in, year out. Everyone knows that. What you should be debating instead is the structure of this opening night Pitchfork kick-off. Three acts playing three albums from the 20th Century, first track to last? How exactly will Generation ADD react to something like that? And let’s pause for a moment to honor our sponsors – Don’t Look Back/All Tomorrow’s Parties, take a bow. Did you catch those names? All systems go, next stop: The Future. We are gonna bear witness to some cutting-edge stuff. Right?
On the contrary, nostalgia is the order of the day. Brash move, Pitchfork. Pushing full-length albums in an iTune txtmsg Girl Talk world. Nothing less than anathema to the soundbite zeitgeist. Slint, Sonic Youth, and the GZA. Can’t say we’ve done any undue drooling over any of these performers. Although the radio-friendly Sonic Youth stuff is nothing to scoff at. What was that one with the Macauley Culkin video? Yeah, 'Sunday.' Good song. And what’s not to like about 'Bull in the Heather'?
What about you, readership? What three albums would you have liked to have heard played in their entirety by the original artists? From the wilds of Alabama (“a plurality of rurality”), Warlock, via mobile, responds: 'Joshua Judges Ruth' by Lyle Lovett, 'Amerikkka’s Most Wanted' by Ice Cube, and Slayer’s 'Reign in Blood.'
Gigwise opts for 'Maybe You’ve Been Brainwashed, Too' by New Radicals, 'Bare' by Geoffrey Williams (this guy could’ve had Seal’s career), and Ween’s 'Chocolate & Cheese.' Scratch that. Interject a Nate Dogg 'Hold Up (pause) heyyyy….' We got three more. How about that eponymous Blur release from ’97, Tony Tone Toni’s 'Sons of Soul,' and, if resurrection were a possibility, Jeff Buckley’s 'Grace' (sit down, Starsailor).
Brian Wilson, he did 'Smile' top to bottom, right? As for tonight, look no further than the song 'Little Honda' by The Beach Boys to summarize the lineup. “First gear”? That’d be Slint. And first gear…”it’s alright.” Not spectacular, just alright. Still, it’d be nice if some fellow Louisvillians showed up to make guest appearances. Say, Bonnie “Prince” Billy on backing vocals. VHS or Beta on the turntables. The ghost of Hunter S. Thompson on flugelhorn. We wouldn’t even be upset to see Billy Corgan materialize in a halo to do a Zwan song with Dave Pajo.
“Second gear? I lean right.” And we all turn to our right, start stepping toward the Aluminum Stage. GZA interjects a much-needed jolt of energy to the proceedings. Cappadona’s up there with him. Ol’ Dirty Bastard gets a shout-out. But unless you’re a die-hard Wu Tanger, it gets a wee bit redundant.
“Third gear? Hang on tight.” Before they even take the stage, Sonic Youth has put the night into overdrive. Emcee Tim Tuten gets pelted by a bottle of water. “What are you gonna do,” he asks in response, “start a middle-aged riot?” Wrong demographic, Tim. The youth is still down with the Youth. Thurston Moore, still with a healthy head of hair, may no longer be mistaken for Beck. This is because he now looks younger than Beck. Acts younger, too. Doesn’t move around like a soon-to-be card-carrying member of AARP. He’s leaping up in tandem with Lee Ranaldo. Kim Gordon shimmers in front of the backdrop candle. In 2007, we are “half awake in a fake empire” (the National). In 1988, we were living a Daydream Nation.
Some things never change.
