Start your holiday off right with a pair of tickets to the F Yeah Tour in Chicago TOMORROW NIGHT!

The F Yeah Tour is a bunch of awesome musicians, comedians, and artist traveling in a 92 Bluebird bus around the country spreading fun and rock as they go. The lovely folks at the tour are letting us give away a pair of tickets, but you have to work fast in order to win.

We posted a bulletin on Myspace, so either go read the post if you’re already our friend (which you should be, right?) or friend us so you don’t loose out on cool prizes like this one. And if you aren’t the lucky winner, head out to the show anyways, because it should be total dance party awesome time (Imagine I said that last part in a cool robot voice, because I did). Below are the details for the show:

Thursday, July 3rd - Chicago, IL @ Stan Mansion
w/ Matt & Kim, Monotonix, Team Robespierre, Mannequin Men & Crystal Antlers
+ comedy by Nick Flanagan & Hannibal Buress
2408 N Kedzie
7:00pm / All Ages / $12

Good luck! And if you do head out to the show be on the lookout, I’ll be there reviewing the show (and dancing like crazy to Matt & Kim) and posting about it later right here on the Heave blog.

The Hives exploded in sonic glory to a sold out crowd at the Metro here in Chicago Sunday night, and if you weren’t there, I pity you. If they aren’t all ready, they should be one of your favorite bands. Why you ask? Is it their incredibly catchy music that you can’t help but jump and dance to? Is it their live shows that are like a Molotov cocktail of sound doused in sweat? Is it their dapper stage appeal and charismatic good looks? Of course it’s all of the above that makes The Hives one of the best live acts that I’ve seen in my life, and I’ve spent a really good amount of time and money at live shows. I first saw The Hives back in the summer of 2004. The show was life changing in a way, and as I walked home that evening drenched in sweat and unable to hear, I knew that this band now held the key to my musical heart.

I felt just the same way last night, as the band powered through their set full of crowd favorites (”Main Offender,” “Hate to Say I Told You So”) and showcased new tracks from their upcoming release The Black and White Album, out November 13th. I know that many people don’t like to dance, they prefer the arms crossed head nod stance at a show, but before you attend a Hives show, know this. You are expected to dance, you are expected to clap and scream, and you are expected to devote the next few hours to your allegiance of The Hives, so unless your going to pogo up in the air with me, please stay home fair concert goers.

But I digress back to what really matters, and that is the music at hand. The Hives are loud fast punk infused rock ‘n’ roll music, and singer Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist is the perfect catalyst for their music to really make their shows pop. He is the quintessential front man, and all singers in all rock bands should be required to see him perform. He commands the stage with a force that will knock you off your feet, crawling over audience members, throwing his mic up in the air, and jumping into a high flying kicks at least once during every song. Pelle is the backbone of The Hives, demanding love and adoration from the audience and winning over even the most skeptical of critics with his witty banter, boyish good looks (phew, he is one fine looking fellow), and charismatic charm.

The Hives are fierce and abrasive, and they know that they are by far the best band in the world. Just ask them, and they will tell you this is true. And after last night, the fact that I still can’t hear because the ringing in my ears yet I can’t stop listening to their latest single “Tick Tick Boom” on repeat, just goes to show you that in fact The Hives are the best band in the world. It would be a crime not to see them live, so I order you to make it your quest in life to see this band before you die. Just make sure you bring your dancing shoes and be prepared to have your socks rocked by the best band ever, and that is the honest to god truth.

I spent last Friday surrounded by aliens, coated in confetti, and with about 2,000 laser pointers, give or take a few. The Flaming Lips brought their explosive freak show to Chicago last Friday, and I decided to fully experience the concert and camp out all day for the sold out show. The following is a log of my day.

9:30 AM-Heading down on the red line to The Aragon to meet my concert buddy Amy. Man, it sure is early.

10:40 AM- Our stomachs get the best of us. Amy and I are sitting in the most amazing trashy diner. The booths are red glitter vinyl, and Amy was just served a hot beef sandwich. Life is pretty grand.

Noon- Bored. Amy decides she wants a new tattoo. We head to a shop down the street. She is one brazen and slightly crazy girl, and decides to get the robot off the cover of a Flaming Lips album. She tells me she wants to always remember the amazing night she will surely have.

1:15pm-In line. Karl (with a K), the head of security, is rocking a sweet mullet and mustache combination. He’s everything you would expect in a roadie type, covered in tattoos, drops the f-bomb a lot, and smells like booze and cigarettes. He’s a pretty nice guy though, and promises us that we will be the first people in the venue since our “crazy ass decided to get here so damn early.”

3:15 pm- Ed, our neighbor in line buddy, offers us nametags. Amy and I are now accepted into the concert line of friendship. Score.

3:45 pm- Ed and our other neighbors are all fans from The Flaming Lips message board. Some drove all the way from LA and San Francisco and are following the Lips on tour around the country. One couple is decked out in their own alien outfit and Santa suit. The girl in the alien outfit hands me a noisemaker and throws confetti on me. All is well in our little alley commune.

4:30 pm-The rain comes. It looks like a hobo camp, with fans crouched under garbage bags and four or five people huddled under umbrellas. I have two students from Kent State under my umbrella with me. They want to dance onstage tonight more than anything.

6:50 pm- Fans are cheering, confetti and balloons are being thrown around, and security is looking at us like we’ve lost our minds. Our line buddies from Kent State find the animal wrangler (the person that picks who dances onstage) and get a spot. We give our line buddies thumbs up on a job well done. A camera crew is interviewing the biggest Flaming Lips fans, and they pull Amy from the crowd to interview. Laser pointers are being handed out. Security guy Karl passes by and gives me a smile and pats me on the head, giving me the reassuring look of “I told you I’d get you in here first.” Thanks Karl. A spaceship descends, Wayne appears in a giant plastic bubble, confetti is launched, and green balloons float high above the audience. I don’t see one person around me that isn’t grinning from ear to ear. As The Lips launch into Race For The Prize, it’s clear why so many fans are devoted to this band. Their show is a true spectacle, a rock circus with streamers and lasers and giant spaceships. They give their fans just what they want, a few hours of pure joy and a vehicle to escape from the real world. The Flaming Lips remind me that this is what music is about. A lot of love, a lot of devotion, a lot of insanity, and a few thousand lasers.

Ah, another Lolla come and gone. And boy was it a fun weekend folks. Time for a bullet point list? Me thinks so…

• Best set of the weekend? Two words: DAFT PUNK. Fanfuckingtastic. The French duo delivered a smooth set full of their hits, and fist and glow sticks were pumping during the entire 90 minute show. Daft Punk are some smart men, because they know how to really be famous and amazing. Be secretive (never show people your face, claim you’re a robot from space), be elusive (hardly tour), and basically melt faces with your talent, and that my friends is a how you become a true rockstar.

• Can we talk about Muse for a moment? They never disappoint, ever. Even with a crappy Chicago drizzle trying to bring them down. I’ve seen them three times live now, and each time they deliver a jaw dropping spiritual performance. I always find myself so giddy at their show, acting like a rabid member of a cult as I chant along the lyrics and pump my fist in the air. I can’t help myself, Muse just brings out the crazy in me. But it’s the good crazy, ok?

• So basically Daft Punk and Muse topped my weekend, but some other favorite sets were !!! and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Thankfully this years Lolla crowd were pretty willing to dance, because who can really resist dancing as Nic Offer of !!! gyrates around on stage better than any stripper on a pole. Seriously, brand new teen heartthrob crush on !!! singer Nic, for bringing the sexiest white boy dancing to the party that I’ve seen in a long time. And who doesn’t crack a smile at Karen O? The girl giggles on stage before screaming and shoving a microphone down her throat. She will always be my number one girl crush, because she is just so adorable on stage. She is fierce, brutal, and sexual woman, but in such an inviting way that you could totally take her home to meet the parents and they would totally fall in love with her too.

• Disappointment of the weekend for me? The Rapture. Being stuck on a side stage with a dud of a crowd really made the set fizzle. The music was solid, but it just wasn’t the usual hyperactive dance party that a Rapture show produces. Hell, they didn’t even ask us to give our neighbors a kiss, a standard request from the band during their concerts. The music was there but it just felt so forced.

• Surprise of the weekend? Well the given surprise was that Amy Winehouse actually seemed sober and kept it together during her set, but the music surprise was a tight and much more assured and mature set from M.I.A. Her upcoming release, Kala, is shaping up to be one of the best albums of 2007, and her confidence in her live performance has grown since her debut album. She is more fierce live then ever, and has much more stage presence as she works the crowd into a frenzy. The girl even fought through throat issues to deliver a blistering set on Friday. Mad props to M.I.A.

• Most annoying aspect of the festival goes to the commemorative beer cups and everyone collecting them. Supposedly if you collect a bunch of these plastic cups and turned them in, you get a free Lolla t-shirt. But nothing kills a good time like seeing a shirtless hippie carrying a seven foot tall tower of plastic cups.

• Best outfit Perry Farrell wore goes to Saturday’s stylish combo. spandex pants with a zip up crinkle jacket in ALL YELLOW. Whenever he came on stage I would yell “GIANT BANANA!” Oh, and Perry? Thanks so much for showing us the outline of your Penis, as if it wasn’t bad enough we had to sit through your new bands set in order to get a decent spot for Daft Punk. Bastard. But thanks for throwing this big party, and thanks for playing a few Jane’s Addiction songs, and thanks for your crazy ramblings all weekend. Just thanks for being you Perry. Perry Farrell folks, just like that one crazy aunt you have, the one that wears a lot of make-up and a sequined baseball cap and plays bingo every Friday night and you want to scrutinize her cause she is crazy but damn, deep down inside you really love that lady. She’s a total bad ass.

• Tastiest festival food goes to the Peanut Satay chicken and cucumber salad. Damn that was a lot of chicken for 6 bucks folks. Remember, protein is important when your standing in the hot sun all day, keeps you energized!

• Personal best decision of the weekend? Peacing out early on Pearl Jam. Now hear me out, I respect Pearl Jam, but I’m just not a fan. I have tried, and I can’t get into them. So me and a group of like minded friends headed over to our old college stomping grounds to buy booze where we use to at the dorms, then catch a bus to my house to party. See, the key here is I live on the lake with a private beach, so Eddie Vedder lost to cheap booze and a late night swim in lake Michigan. And ya know what? It was the perfect way to end a damn good weekend.

One last memory before I head out! Make sure to wear plenty of sunscreen and bring some water!

My favorite Lolla memory: One of my favorite bands, The Flaming Lips, were playing last year, and it was the one set that I had to get up front to see. We waited through Built to Spill (who blew btw) and a lackluster set of Sonic Youth. My friends Erin and Amy and I were right up front; our long hours standing in a hot sweaty field had paid off. We were second row, right off of the center of the stage. The Lips came out, and I felt the rush in my stomach of adrenaline and the feeling you get from the loud bass echoing through your body. Wayne got in his giant plastic bubble (a staple of Lips shows) and then took off into the crowd. Everyone was screaming and cheering and the mob of people up front were swirling all around. As Wayne made his way back toward the stage, he aimed toward our section of the crowd. As he came right towards me, he smiled the biggest and happiest smile I’ve ever seen from anyone. You could feel the energy of how much he loved connecting with the crowd, could feel the common love of music that united this entire mass of people from all different lifestyles and backgrounds.

I snapped this photo right before he grabbed my hand to balance as he floated back towards the stage. The Lips launched into an explosive set, the best show I’ve ever seen. The crowd was so sweaty and packed, but everyone was laughing and singing along. Some guy even hugged me. It was the messiest happiest set of people in the world at that moment.

As the show ended and me and Amy found our lost friend and surveyed the damage. I lost a contact, some spare change was lost, and we all were covered in mud up to our knees and could hear nothing. We caught a cab for the 4 block walk home because we were so beat. It was fucking fantastic.

I know, enough with the sappy stuff, right? But looking back, that had to be one of the happiest moments of my life. It was just pure joy for an hour and a half, no cares or worries, just me and the one thing I love the most; music.

And that is the lesson of this memory and the game plan for this weekend. It’s all about the music. Don’t worry about anything else at Lolla (or any show you go to). Don’t worry about other things in your life, where your friends are at the festival, how much a t-shirt is or how far it is to the other stage. Because at the end of the weekend, it’s the good music that mattered the most.

Memory #2: Crowd surfing is always a part of any music festival. You’ll always have those few brave souls that feel the need to launch themselves into the air like they just don’t care. I really dislike crowd surfing, mainly because a lot of crowds don’t understand that you must pass the person, otherwise they land on people (the crowd at the Klaxons set at P-fork just couldn’t get this concept) and it hurts like hell. My second Lolla memory is about the concert battle scar that I’m most proud of.

I, Lisa White, was kicked in the face at a Weezer concert. That’s right, a freaking Weezer concert. Their music is the soundtrack to nerdy skinny pale kids with dark glasses all over the world, yet somehow I get a black eye in a crowd of dudes that are half my size. I partially blame Weezer. Their set was totally on fire, they played all the hits, and me and a billion other geeks were,  well, “geeking out.” They launched into El Scorcho, and I was rocking out, all smiles to the cute guy in Buddy Holly (typical) glasses and having just a great time. It was toward the end of the song, the part that really starts to rock it out, just listen, you know the part. All of a sudden, this chubby (and shirtless, another festival staple) dude pumps his fist in the air, and launches himself, thus launching his foot into my face. Buddy Holly glasses ducked and looked sympathetically (and terrified) at me as I clutched my eye. As soon as I realized that I wasn’t bleeding, it was back to the music at hand, but the rest of the weekend I had a pretty sweet black eye. No need to tell the friends that I was in a bar fight, I wore my Weezer concert scars proudly.

Bonus story! During the same set, I befriended the 15 year old kids in front of me. They were bitching about drivers education (oh you know how that is), and then asked if I had any pot they could buy. Being the elder in the situation, a small part of me totally felt like pulling a mom moment and yelling “hey little buster, you know better then to smoke that wacky weed!” As the show started, Weezer played their (at the time) current radio single Beverly Hills, and at that moment, the 15 year old turned around and yelled to me, “THIS MY JAM!” Never have I felt so old. These kids knew nothing of the blue album. Only when high schoolers try to buy pot off you and make your musical taste feel vintage can you truly feel like an adult, right?

Hope everyone is listening to Greg and Wes right now on WGN radio! I sure am, I even downloaded the evil RealPlayer, showing just how much I love the Heave boys.

So as the boys are kicking off more of the Lolla countdown on the radio, I thought I’d start a more personal countdown to Lollapalooza. Since Lollapalooza made its home stay in Chicago, I’ve been front and center each summer in Grant Park. Lolla in Chicago has come a long way since the one small field of the first year to a true destination festival. And along with any music festival, you have some pretty fun and crazy memories, and Lollapalooza has given me a fair share.

Over the next week I’ll be sharing my top memories of the festival in Grant Park, and waiting like a school kid for candy for next weekend!

Memory #1: One thing that is always a constant at music festivals is alcohol. Yes, tipping back a few under the sweltering sun is a great way to spend a lazy afternoon rocking out, but tipping back a bottle or more can lead to some pretty hilarious stories for your friends, but a walk of shame for yourself. The best Lollapalooza shaming happened to a friend of mine last year.

I lived only a few blocks from the festival, so my apartment became Lollapalooza central. Me and the roommate had friends down from Michigan, and the whole group were party people ready to have a blast at Lolla. One of those friends were a bit overzealous though, and had a bit too much pre-game drinks . Once at the festival, we lost said friend after her crazy drunk self ran away. We spent most of the day texting and calling her, thinking of all the worst scenarios in our head. We prayed that she was found by paramedics, and kept vigilant with our texting and calling.

Once back at the apartment, we finally heard from her. Relieved, she appeared soon, a bit worse for wear. The last thing she remembered was she ran away and climbed up in a tree to get a better view of the festival. Under the tree was a fellow Lollapaloozer, and she struck up a friendship with him, and that friendship blossomed into a “hey we’re drunk and we love Lollapalooza, let’s make out!” The next thing she remembers, and this is the really awesome “I can’t believe I did that part of the story,” is she awakens in a portable toilet. Yes, you know it’s been one helluva weekend when you wake up in a porta-potty and survive the walk of shame to tell about it. To this day, my roommate and I still refer to her as drunk Lolla friend, and that is just one memory that I’m sure she’ll share with the kids someday.

Moral of the story, have fun, but pace yourself. No day can be totally rad if you wake up in a portable toilet.

Fans of independent music in the Chicago area know of 88.7 WLUW, an amazing community supported independent radio station. If it wasn’t for WLUW and WXRT here in Chicago, I wouldn’t even turn on my radio at all.

After seeing a tip over on Chicagoist this weekend that the station was being taken over again by Loyola University (who own the rights to the station signal, but let WLUW use it), I was devastated. I couldn’t find any other information, so I crossed my fingers and hoped it was just a rumor. But thanks to the excellent post by Jocelyn over at Chicagoist, the truth comes out, and it isn’t pretty.

Yes, there will still be a radio station, but Loyola (who is opening a broadcast school on their campus) will now have control of the format. Somehow I have a feeling that the format just won’t stay the same when the reigns are handed over to the faculty and students of Loyola University. WLUW has been an amazing and supportive station, shedding light on some great bands and bringing much of the Chicago independent community together. The WLUW record fair is always a blast, and helps out a lot of the smaller labels here in Chicago that showcase at the fair.

For me, the real conflict isn’t just about the format of the station changing, it’s about the loss of a passionate community-based medium for independent artist. Earlier this month, I found out that the next issue of magazine Punk Planet will also be the last, signifying the demise of another Chicago-affiliated independent giant. I was devastated, because I’d met the guys behind Punk Planet, and I knew of their incredible passion for what they do. Their writing, their zine, the bands and causes they covered, were near and dear to them. It wasn’t just someone covering a story that they researched and then wrote and cut down to their 1,000 word limit. They put their heart and soul into the community that surrounded them, and I feel the same for WLUW. The station is more than just the sound on their airwaves, they are part of the people that you see selling merch at Schubas or hanging out at Double Door. They are part of the people browsing through the 99 cent record bins at Reckless Records. They are part of the family that makes up the Chicago music scene.

I am tired of living in a community of fallen idols. Since moving to Chicago, I’ve seen publications, record stores, and bands fall apart. Since getting deeper into the music industry, I’ve seen labels, independent stations, and artist barely surviving, while large corporations continue to slide by unnoticed of the mediocrity they pimp to their target demographic. Trust me music fans, the major labels do not think of you or the music you love, they think of the product and numbers.

This is why I’ve spent my life thus far dealing with all things music. I want to help bands and labels that are started on a dream and on passion succeed. I’m tired of seeing worthy people and causes fall to the wayside in this business of independent music.

If you feel this way too, please read the post over at Chicagoist, and I too suggest you send a letter of support of WLUW to the office of the president of Loyola University.

Keep your fingers crossed kids, the music industry is going to continue to be a bumpy ride…

Another year has come and gone, and Chicago is free of a few thousand hipsters until next summer. Sunday definitely trumped Saturday all around, with the stage of doom having much better sound (I can just picture some interns from P-fork, all frail and nerdy, loading amps and sound equipment into a van from guitar center), and the lines for everything were much shorter compared to Saturday. Even the demeanor of the crowd seemed more pleasant.

Lists are easier (this I have learned from Chuck Klosterman, right?) so time for a rundown…

• First up, Menomena. Granted they went on late (all of Sunday was late), which worked perfect for me, for I was late getting to the festival. I was at home being lazy and eating cold pizza and enthralled by the movie Office Space on Comedy Central. It’s how I roll. Anyways, Menomena was really great, nothing spectacular, but just a nice solid start to the day. Honestly I was more excited with anticipation to see Menomena then I was to actually see them. They were just good, kind of like sex after you’re married. It wasn’t mind blowing, it wasn’t bad, it was just nice.
• After getting some grapes and ice cream, we settled under the shade on the comfort of my trusty concert sheet. Next up was Junior Boys, who I was alright with seeing. I like a few songs, nothing I was pumped to see, but I was pleasantly surprised. They were really great, very chill and fun, just great music to hang out in the shade on a lazy day. Gold star Junior Boys, gold star!
• The Sea and Cake. No cake or sea for me please. I wasn’t feeling it. They just don’t get me going. I didn’t mind them at first, but I found myself saying after a while, “are they done yet?”
• Well hello Jamie Lidell. Your music is really sexy, and the crowd on the concert sheet voted it the best music to make babies to at the festival. Well, not actually at the festival, but you get what I’m saying. I’ll be honest, I’ve heard of Lidell, but never actually heard his music. Man was I impressed! He probably gets my award for best discovery at the festival, and I thoroughly enjoyed his music, even when I’m not making any babies.

• And then came Stephen Malkmus. One of my favorite toothpaste for dinner comics pretty much describes all the people wearing Pavement shirts, and man oh man were there a lot of them. There was a bit of rumor that maybe a full Pavement reunion would happen, since Mark Ibold came out on stage during Sonic Youth and played on Friday, and since percussionist Bob Nastanovich from Pavement was also there. Everyone was keeping their fingers crossed, but sadly to no avail. I knew it was probably wishful thinking. But after I realized it wasn’t going to happen, I let it go, and enjoyed Malkmus and savored the few Pavement songs he did play . Some people, not so much. Finally Malkmus had to announce “I’m not going to play those songs,” to the crowd, and yet still some people continued to yell “CUT YOUR HAIR!” I felt sort of bad for Malkmus. I almost wanted to run up and yell “FREEBIRD!” just to make him feel better. Regardless, Malkmus gave a nice laid back set, which matched the afternoon breeze and chill attitude of Sunday very nicely. I really wanted to hear a few more electric based songs from Malkmus, maybe some “Pencil Rot” but I was totally cool hearing his signature voice crooning across the park.
• Off to get food before staking out a spot for Klaxons, we heard some of Of Montreal. I was a bit too into my curry fries to really watch them, but they sounded pretty great, and I heard from a lot of people that they gave a smashing set.
• Camped out for Klaxons at the stage of doom, next up was The Field. Man did it make me feel like I was in a DJ tent. He was okay, spinning some quality beats, but I’m more of a girl for dance music that changes the beat and keeps my attention, so I politely danced along, and in my head started thinking about what I need to do this week and if I have clean laundry for work.
• And then we have Klaxons, the “new rave” kids from the UK. I’m not gonna lie, I have a total girl crush on the band, and their music totally makes me bounce around like a five year old that just ate one of those giant pixie sticks. I was totally pumped to see them, and slightly worried about the sound at the stage of doom. But thanks to picky sound guys and a better set up than Saturday, the sound was doing just fine, at least way up front. I wasn’t aware of the amount of ape shit that everyone goes at a Klaxons show. The crowd was wild, but also pretty friendly. By the end I was covered in my own and others sweat, there was someones blood on my bag (eww, but that is totally rock), and I caught a glowstick and was dancing with it in the middle of the dance circle. Everyone just let loose, got silly, and had a really great time. The band sounded great, much better than I thought they would be, since I felt their music may become flat or toned down live, but they sounded super powerful. The show ended, and everyone was giving each other high fives, cameras and watches and shoes were being found and given back to their owners, and everyone that was leaving the Balance Stage were all smiles. And that, my dear, is how you totally rock out a crowd. Klaxons get my pick for the best set of the entire weekend, they totally get 10 gold stars.

So there you have it. The end of Pitchfork Festival 2007. Hopefully next year they plan things a bit better, and maybe give Girl Talk a main stage slot. Hope everyone had a great festival, and check back later for Wes’s take on the weekend (I heard De La Soul totally melted his face off). Also check out the rad coverage of the fest over at Stereogum and Chicagoist. Peace out Pitchfork, we’ll see you next year!

Pitchfork Festival, you are breaking my heart. I know you’re trying to be the cool festival that is like, “um, we don’t give a shit, we’re going to invite some bands and ya know, just throw this fun party,” but you’ve gotten bigger, so you must plan accordingly.

Why the scolding for P-fork? I’ll get to the main point of any review (the music) in a second, but Pitchfork really dropped the ball this year with their third stage, or as I use to refer to it as the DJ tent but now refer to it as the block party from hell. The sound was horrible. I’ve heard music better when it’s blaring from the cars driving by on the Dan Ryan. I felt so bad for the bands, especially Girl Talk.

Oh Girl Talk. I was so sure his would be the most amazing Saturday set, but thanks to Pitchfork, it was really deflated. Guess what, Pitchfork? More people care about seeing Girl Talk than seeing Yoko Ono. Gonna just put that out there. She broke up The Beatles, and she sounds like a goat (no really, she did last night, heard her as we were leaving). Hipsters want an excuse to dance instead of just head-bobbing at shows, so when we have someone like Girl Talk, who makes it okay for us to shake what our collective mothers gave us, we want to do like Prince and “go crazy.” The stage was so crowded the fire department threatened to shut it down, no one could move, but we were still pumped to dance.

We made friends with people in the crowd (Wes actually started a crowd game of who can hold their breath the longest, tons of fun), we were ready to go ape shit. And when the music started, no one could hear it. We yelled “turn it up!” Pitchfork, you did not. At this point, someone should have said “fuck it, let’s turn this mother up and blow the speakers,” but instead you left us dancing with ourselves, because the music just wasn’t really there. And then to add insult to injury, Pitchfork pulled the plug on the set, which I’m sure of because two things…

1. The song Girl Talk was playing at the moment his set ended was a slower jam, almost like he was warming up to blow our minds at the end, but then the music just faded away and stopped.
2. Greg (Girl Talk) still had his pants on, and anyone that goes to a Girl Talk show knows it ain’t over till Greg is in his underwear and jumps into the crowd.

So there ya have it. Girl Talk gets a gold star for trying and my award for “Band That Really Could Have Rocked It,” but was held back by The Man. And Pitchfork, shame on you — I give your third stage planning a .25, suck on that.

“But what about the rest of the festival,” you say? Oh yeah, that’s right. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. You want to know set by set you say? Sounds great!

• Grizzly Bear. WOW. I’m a fan, but I was wondering how the music would translate live. They sounded beautiful, despite some technical difficulties. Their harmonization was amazing, and their music sounded more gorgeous than it already is.
• Battles rocked my world. Nuff said. They also had some technical problems (maybe this was a Pitchfork problem, all these technical problems) but they still rocked so hard. Still one of the only bands that can keep my attention for a whole seven minute song. If you can see them live, go. I can only imagine how incredible they would be in a smaller setting.
• Professor Murder really did try, but sadly was stuck on the third stage of doom. The sound was cringe inducing, but the band was still enjoyable. I had no idea that vocalist Michael Bell-Smith had the same speaking voice as his singing voice, which made me have a huge girl crush on him and giggle a lot as I danced. And robot dancing man in the crowd, you are my personal hero, thank you for bringing the robot moves to Pitchfork.
• Although I chose to get food (mmm, corn on the cob) and water, I still feel that I saw Mastodon, because no matter where you were, you could hear Mastodon. I can only imagine the loss of hearing of anyone actually at the stage. Although not a fan, I do declare that they brought the metal power to P-fork.
• Dan Deacon was surprisingly good. I like Dan Deacon, but I was worried that an entire set of his music may get obnoxious after a while. I was totally wrong. The set was a lot fun, and who can really hate anyone that comes on stage and cues up their iPod to play “Who Let the Dogs Out?”
• You already know my angry “you meddling kids, get off my yard,” rant about Girl Talk. Don’t worry, I was shaking my fist as I said the above comment, and I wearing a shawl.

So there ya have it. The long first day of P-fork. Today I’m spending a lot more time resting on my trusty concert sheet, but I will be front and center for two bands; Klaxons and Steven Malkmus, and I’ll be praying for a Pavement song or two and giggling like a little school girl.