Music festivals. I've been to a lot of them, all around the states. I've gone to so many of them for so many years—whether for work or pleasure—that the excitement of the events have dwindled. My love of music has become clouded by advertising, overpriced food, and flower crowns. When I'm in the crowd, swaying, closing my eyes to feel the vibrations, I often times get interrupted -- whether it be by an ambush of bros or a teenager puking. "I'm getting too old for this," I said at a recent festival at the ripe age of 25.
FYF is different—it remains relatively small with fewer in-your-face advertising. It is still only one weekend, two days, tickets aren't outrageously priced at around $200, and they don't sell out before they're on-sale.
This past weekend was exhausting, but I don't resent my blistered feet like I do at so many other fests. Here's why:
THE PEOPLE:
I only saw a total of two flower crowns (yes, I counted). I was not tapped on the shoulder once by someone in search of drugs. Everyone seemed like they were genuinely excited about the music, not hoping to get their photo taken by a style blog. People were, overall, nice and said "excuse me." They waited for their food in nice, neat lines. Trash left on the ground was minimal, relatively speaking. It was shocking.
THE ROOKIES:
Kamaiyah was the first performance I saw on Saturday and the Oakland rapper had the entire crowd jumping under The Club stage's disco balls. Defiant jams like "Mo Money Mo Problems" and "How Does It Feel" were catchy enough that her newest fans were able to sing along. The only downside to the performance was that it was just 30 minutes long.
Anohni—on the other side of the music spectrum—was otherworldly on Sunday evening. She sang disguised by a dark cloak, with haunting avatars fluttering on the screen. Her vocals crawled across the grass while her electronic backtrack surged to the sky. If you are not familiar with Anohni yet, do yourself a favor and get yourself acquainted. She is that rare kind of performer that presents not just a show, but a work of art.
THE HEADLINERS:
There is nothing more depressing than paying hundreds of hard-earned cash than when you're presented with lip-syncing, tardiness, or laziness. Since Kendrick Lamar jumped from anonymity to super-stardom at light-speed, he doesn't have radio hit after radio hit like LCD Soundsystem, but bringing with him the energy and awareness of To Pimp A Butterfly, Kendrick delivered. He was ferocious while he showed off his lyrical finesse. Images of black heroes like Oprah and Muhammad Ali flashed on the jumbo-tron to add an inspiring hue to already-moving tracks. Just reminiscing about the 90-minute set is revitalizing me.
As for LCD Soundsystem? The one word I would use to describe what I saw was "electrifying." I wouldn't expect anything less from the dance rock veterans. The sheer joy in their music rushed through devotees with famous songs like "Yeah" and "I Can Change." I was a bit frustrated with James Murphy after he promised the band would permanently dismantle only a few years ago. I paid to see what was supposed to be their last tour only for him to get on the festival circuit this year and announce an impending new album. I forgive him now.
