It is with sadness that we report the death of one of Cincinnati's great art patrons, Lois Rosenthal, at age 75. This notice was in today's issue of The New York Times:
ROSENTHAL--Lois, 75, on July 20, 2014, died peacefully. She is survived by her husband Richard, their children Jennie (Allan) Berliant and David, her grandchildren Elizabeth and Andrew Berliant and Eva and Mae Rosenthal, and her brother Harvey (Mary) Reis. An activist, environmentalist, supporter and participant in organizations that defended the oppressed, the hungry, and the disadvantaged, she initiated many programs and activities. From the Ohio Innocence Project which has exonerated 17 wrongfully convicted people, to the Fresh Produce initiative at the Freestore Foodbank, and the Rosey Reader Program which has provided books to over 30,000 Cincinnati Public School children, grades K-3, to foster a love of reading, to her creation of Uptown Arts which provides free classes in art, music, acting and dance to five-ten year old city kids. During Lois' 28-year tenure on the board of the Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park, she and her husband established the Rosenthal New Play Prize which produced 15 world premier productions, several nominated both for the Pulitzer Prize and produced in New York. As a member of the Board of the Cincinnati Art Museum, Lois and Dick endowed the museum to allow free admission in perpetuity. Lois was also a member of the Board of The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. There, once again drawing on her compassion for those with little or no voice, she envisioned, championed and funded Invisible: Slavery Today, the world's first museum-quality, permanent exhibition on the subjects of modern-day slavery and human trafficking. Along the way, Lois wrote a weekly consumer column for the Cincinnati Enquirer for 10 years, had a call-in radio show, and wrote features for several national magazines. Among her seven books, Living Better was a Book of the Month Club selection. Lois relaunched Story magazine in 1989 with her husband. In five of the 10 years she edited Story, it was nominated for the National Magazine Award for short fiction. In two of those years Story won the prestigious award. Like the founders of Story-- Whit Burnet and Martha Foley-- who first published the works of today's marquis writers, Lois first published stories by Juno Diaz, Elizabeth Graver and Nathan Englander among others. Mother, wife, friend to many, Lois Rosenthal transformed organizations, intellectually and with creative determination. We're all better for her high standards, her dynamic personality, the impact she made on so many lives, and her contagious enthusiasm for doing good.There will be a memorial service in the Marx Theater at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park at 4:30 p.m. on Sept. 15.
What I love about Day 2 of a fest is that I usually have my bearings — I understand the layout of the festival and know how to find what I need. What I love more about Day 2 of a fest is that, while things seem the same, there is still much to be discovered, like new music, food and more. When Day 2 of Forecastle arrived, I went into the morning with expectations that would end up being far exceeded.
I got to the press tent early Saturday to meet with my first interview of the day, with Australian band Boy & Bear. I saw these guys perform at CMJ Music Marathon several years back and it was good to catch up with them again. I suggest listening to their latest record, Harlequin Dream, just released last year, if you‘ve never heard Boy & Bear before. The band will also be making their way across the United States in October, so look out for them! (LIYL The Avett Brothers, Trampled By Turtles).
After talking to Dave and Dave of Boy & Bear (listen below), it was still early in the day, and I forgot that music didn’t start for another couple of hours. Thank goodness it wasn’t too early for Heine Brothers’ Coffee, so to my iced coffee sanctuary I went. The morning felt nice and calm before the craziness that is Forecastle arrived, so I took a moment to walk the grounds and soak everything in. I could feel great things coming for that day, and great things indeed did come.
When the music finally began, I went to find my way to the Boom Stage (my unofficial favorite stage of the fest this year, I’ve decided), but not before meeting a fellow college radio DJ. We talked for a few about radio things and the bands we were excited to see that day, and when we finally split ways I found myself in front of Hurray for the Riff Raff. Funny enough, as my college radio station’s Music Director, I had passed on Alynda Lee Segarra‘s latest record, but as I stood watching her live set I couldn’t figure out why. She was amazing. With the full band, the sound was soulful and remnant of New Orleans Y’at, as if the group of musicians had just been resurrected from a Louisiana swamp (in the best way possible). I stuck around the stage for Boy & Bear and Lord Huron, who together gave me my Americana fix for the day, before traveling to the other side of the fest.
At the Ocean Stage, I waited for Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks to begin. As a longtime fan of both Animal Collective and Dirty Projectors, I’ve been enjoying the recent collaboration between Dave “Avey Tare” Portner and Angel Deradoorian known as Slasher Flicks, and it was nice to see that happen live. It was clear that the audience was full of Animal Collective fans — where I was standing, Portner nearly started a riot when he came on to the stage. Slasher Flicks began full of high energy and noise, which one might expect from the howling (sometimes screeching) vocalist, who was backed by Ponytail drummer Jeremy Hyman. The audience bobbed along to each of the playfully spooky yet jazzy songs and the band, who had just come from the Pitchfork festival in Chicago, danced along with us from the stage. As the set ended, I quickly made my way back to the media tent to begin my next scheduled interviews.
First I talked to a few dudes from The Weeks, a band that is from Mississippi but now based in Nashville, about touring and new tunes. These guys recently toured with Kentucky’s own Buffalo Rodeo and noted that they prefer to tour with friends when given the chance. This was perhaps the most fun interview that I’ve done so far — these guys were super laidback, giving me the perfect opportunity to get out any nervous giggles before speaking with Dave “Avey Tare” Portner.
A long time fan of Animal Collective, I was both excited and incredibly nervous to talk to the man who fronted the band, even if he was with a different project. We met in a trailer behind the Ocean Stage (which was, at the time, accompanied by a very loud DJ) and began to chat. Portner was incredibly kind and open to conversation, something I always appreciate about an artist. He opened up about the formation of Slasher Flicks, the new record and how it served as a means for “moving on.” He even dropped a hint about new Animal Collective material coming out within the next year. It is definitely worth noting that Portner complimented my bright green and electric blue nails, which I had been referring to earlier in the week as “boy repellent” on account of their somewhat crazy nature. Leave it up to a member of Animal Collective to like them, of course. (Listen to the interview below.)
After talking to Portner about my favorite Animal Collective songs and such off the record, I finally left him alone and floated across the fest to the Mast Stage. My head still buzzing and heart still racing from the conversation I just had, I stood swaying along to my favorites as Band of Horses belted from the stage. “No One’s Gonna Love You” and “Is There A Ghost” soared across the lawn for a moment that took me back to high school. I fell in love with the band all over again.
As the night progressed, so did my exhaustion, so I found myself at a bench near the WFPK Port Stage for Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors. A refreshing break from the hustle and bustle of the day, Drew Holcomb and his band played their tunes as the soundtrack to the river at dusk, the colorful festival lights slowly growing more prominent against the evening sky. I’ll admit it, I closed my eyes for a minute to soak in the beautifully bluesy tunes traveling from the Port Stage, especially when “What Would I Do Without You” began. Holcomb sings pretty songs of love and Jesus, and the Forecastle crowd was definitely into it. I watched across the river as Jack White’s audience began crawling closer and closer to the stage, my cue to make my way over.
I decided to watch White perform from a distance, finding a spot where I could see him and not simply watch the screens on the sides of the stage. He cranked out White Stripes classics like “My Doorbell,” as well as his solo tracks like “Love Interruption” for the huge crowd. His band, in the most classic Rock & Roll way, was quite entertaining to watch. They didn’t need much as far as props and graphics go, just their energy and passion.
It worked. White was the perfect end to Day 2, and, knowing Day 3 would be here soon, I looked forward to the few hours of sleep I would gather before heading out again.
To check out if you’re Forecastling today: Eno hammocks. Give your feet a break, they deserve it!
Sober Sailing. These guys want you to be safe and composed at the fest. They support each other in staying alcohol- and drug-free at Forecastle, so if you need some encouragement in doing the same, just give ‘em a visit.
Heine Brothers’ Coffee. The folks working here have been especially kind and the coffee is great. What could be better than nice folks and good brew?
Kentucky’s Forecastle is a music festival that I had never been to before this year. At the end of Day 1, I was asking myself why.
After spending the majority of my Friday bouncing from stage to stage and tent to tent (still with much more to explore today), I found myself having the time of my life in this little temporary corner of Louisville known as Forecastle. Despite the spitting rain and chilly temperatures, the energy here is booming, the crowd is eager (though polite, for the most part) and the mood is happy. It’s obvious that it would take quite the storm to sink this ship, and it’s looking like smooth sailing from here for the next two days.
When I first got to Louisville after encountering terrible traffic (if you plan on going and are traveling south, LEAVE EARLY), I found myself a free little parking spot along River Road and proceeded on my trek to the festival. Free parking has its price, I suppose. For the record, you can pay to park, but was this gal was going to do what it took to save her pennies.
Thankfully I found CityBeat’s own photographer extraordinaire Jesse Fox at check-in, and we both arrived just in time for our interview with Punk band Against Me!. We waited under the press tent about 20 minutes past the scheduled interview time (you get used to this in the music world and begin to expect it) until Laura Jane Grace and Atom Willard entered the scene. Jesse and I shook their hands with mouths agape and eyes wide, nervous as all-get-out. They turned out to be very kind and Laura complimented my belt (therefore I am wearing it every day forever now). It’s the little things, you know? This is what I love about music festivals, conferences, etc. — it truly is a different world.
After our interview with Laura and Atom, we went to the Boom Stage to check out The Black Lips. These Atlanta-based dudes rule. Once their set finished I retreated once again to the media tent for some ’za from Mellow Mushroom and ah-mazing moonshine cocktails from Ole Smoky Tennessee Moonshine. (I also went to charge my phone.) I found familiar faces in the media tent as the CityBeat crew quite literally funneled in and took it over. I couldn’t have been more excited. I met new folks and took time to chat but was quickly out on the field again to explore. There is just so much to see!
I found myself back at the Boom Stage for Against Me! The band put on an amazing, high-energy performance with Laura Jane Grace bouncing around the stage. They played their best old hits (“I Was A Teenage Anarchist,” anyone?), but of course cranked out the new record, Transgender Dysphoria Blues, too.
Once Against Me!’s set ended, I had a bit of time to explore. The layout of the festival is quite nice, really. Nothing is too far from wherever you want to go and food/restrooms are almost always within arm’s reach. I had no difficulty traveling from stage to stage and found it easy to find almost everything (except for the Port Stage, that one takes a bit more exploring to get to). I can appreciate these details about a festival of this size.
I saw some old favorites one day one — Local Natives and Outkast, just to name a few — but I wanted to take the time to try something new as well. This was when I wandered to the Ocean Stage to find Nightmares On Wax. I had no idea what to expect and stood in the (what seemed to be very young) crowd, staring at the stage with the words “Nightmare On Wax” rotating in lights along the back of the stage. I began to get antsy, second-guessing my decision. Just then, the band excitedly entered the stage and began. The beat dropped and I couldn’t stop moving. The band’s sound is hard to pinpoint — there were definitely Reggae and Hip Hop influences in it, but it was perhaps more of a jam-band sound without all the instruments. I didn’t care what it was. I was into it, and so were the people around me. Not a soul was standing still. If you haven’t checked out Nightmares On Wax, the apparent brainchild of England native George Evelyn, you need to, especially when you’re sitting by the pool or driving on a summer night.
Outkast ended the night of course, playing all the hits (“SpottieOttieDopaliscious” and “Da Art of Storytellin’ (Pt. 1)” are my personal favorites, but they played a lot of their later material, too). Their show was nothing short of amazing. Andre 3000 is as odd as ever, Big Boi was as cool as ever and the two are truly a match made in heaven. You don’t need me to tell you that, though. With sore feet and limbs, I trudged back to my car to retreat for the night. I’m already excited for day two.
Things to check out if you’re Forecastling this weekend: Old Smoky Tennessee Moonshine cocktails. They are amazing. I suggest the Dolly, but they are all delicious.
Giant creatures walking around. You can find a giant monkey, bird, man, caterpillar-thing. These things just make you happy.
Poster exhibit on the far side of the festival (next to the Boom Stage). There are amazing band posters (which I’m a total sucker for) featuring tons of artists to check out. Go show ’em some love!
Cincy Summer Streets — a new free citywide festival series — takes cars off the road to make way for a pop-up playground for kids and adults alike. Like a block party on steroids, the inaugural Cincy Summer Streets takes over a one-mile strip in East Walnut Hills Saturday with activities like dance classes, yoga, magic shows, art workshops and more. Participating groups include Pones, Inc., Circus Mojo, Hoopinnati, Double Dutch Cincinnati Rope Twisters, Queen City Bikes, The Shakti Factory and The Yoga Bar. The fun takes place from 9 a.m.-2 p.m. Saturday on Woodburn Avenue between Madison Road and East McMillan Street, continuing down McMillan to Gilbert Avenue — so plan your driving and parking accordingly. Or better yet, bike over — Woodburn and McMillan will be open to foot traffic and bikes. Next month, Cincy Summer Streets heads to Northside for a similar fest Aug. 24. Find more details here.
A number of county fairs are in full swing this weekend: Kenton County (through Saturday), Butler County (Sunday through July 26), Warren County (through Saturday) and Clermont County (Sunday through July 26)
If your wardrobe could use an injection of local pride, stop by the Cincinnati T-Shirt Market Friday on Fountain Square. This annual market showcases more than a dozen local vendors. Whether you’re looking for tees representing area teams, Cincy-centric jokes or just local businesses, there are plenty of options on the square. The market runs until 11 p.m., coinciding with tonight’s MidPoint Indie Summer show. Young Colt, Mardou, DAAP Girls and Wesley Bright & the Hi-Lites will be rocking the MPMF stage on Fountain Square from 7-11 p.m.
The Burlington Antique Show has brought vintage collectibles to the Tri-state for the past 33 years. Unique, quality bits of nostalgia are all around at the show — you won’t need to rummage through tons of junk to find treasures, though sifting through the antiques is half the fun. The Burlington Antique Show is located on the Boone County Fairgrounds every third Sunday, April-October from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. Admission is $3; early bird admission give eager shoppers early hours, 6-8 a.m., for $5.
Why not enjoy the classic
summer tradition of a picnic in the park this weekend? This week’s cover story offers six picnicking
destinations and tips on where to fill your basket nearby. Read it here.
The news transpiring this morning is all across the board.
The reshaping of Cincinnati’s downtown continues, and one of the biggest signs of more impending changes is the increase in housing in the city’s urban core. More people are interested in living in or near downtown, and developers are happy to oblige. Construction is ongoing for nearly 1,000 new apartments and condos in and around downtown, The Business Courier reports in a rundown of new construction today. The biggest projects include phase two of The Banks, which will have 305 new apartments, the so-called 580 building on Walnut Street, which is being converted from office space to 179 luxury apartments, and between 180 and 225 new apartments going in above Macy’s downtown location. There are also a number of projects happening in Over-the-Rhine, including a $26 million development in the Pendleton area that will also include 40,000 feet of retail space.
• All that change isn’t going unnoticed. It seems like I’m talking about Cincinnati making it onto some top 10 list or national publication at least a couple times a week here at the morning news, and here’s another one: Fortune magazine included Cincinnati in a list of top five cities with up-and-coming downtown areas. The article highlights Over-the-Rhine, saying, “while it’s still a work in progress, it’s already been transformed into one of Cincinnati’s most vibrant communities.” Oh, to work at a national magazine, parachute into a city for a couple days and reduce complex, decades-old dynamics into pithy, erudite observations. But I digress.
• Tea partiers won a victory of sorts in U.S. District Court yesterday when Judge Susan Dlott ruled a group of the political activists could pursue suits against Internal Revenue Service employees in Cincinnati. The activists’ claims, first filed last year, state that IRS officials unfairly flagged their applications for nonprofit status based on the fact the groups have names indicating they are conservative or have “tea party” in the name. Nonprofits can’t be primarily political, and in assessing a groups’ application, the IRS must determine the level of political involvement in which a group engages. While the IRS admits it did flag tea party groups, it also did so for some liberal groups, including Occupy-affiliated activists. Still, the conservative groups argue that the IRS acted in a discriminatory way by delaying or denying their applications. The judge’s ruling clears the way for the groups’ lawsuits to go forward.
• There’s a new senate candidate in Kentucky joining the Mitch McConnell/Alison Lundergan-Grimes fray, and he wants you to know he’s full of crap. “Honest” Gil Fulbright is a fake candidate created by represent.us, a group advocating to get big-money influence out of politics. Fulbright, who is played by an actor from New York, is pretty honest about his intentions.
“People of Kentucky, you deserve complete honesty, so here it is,” he says in a video. “I don't care about you. Unless you are a donor, a lobbyist who can write a big fat check, the result that you get from voting for me is negligible."
The parody is a way for the group to drive home its point that most politicians in Congress are beholden to the big-money donors who help them get elected. The group says satire is a more effective way to reach people than traditional news. Probably true.
Kentucky’s senate race, where Democrat Lundergan-Grimes is working to unseat incumbent and Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, is expected to be the most expensive in history. Candidates and outside groups are on track to spend $100 million to convince voters they’re the better choice. A good deal of that money comes from big-money donors and PACs.
• Finally, while we’re talking about Kentucky, I need to share this story with you. The morning news absolutely does not condone law breaking, but if you’re going to do it, you might take a tip from this criminal genius. A Corbin, Kentucky man was arrested Tuesday for shoplifting. When taken to the station, he asked to make his requisite one phone call. Did he use that call to get in touch with a family member, friend or significant other who could bail him out? No, no. He used his only phone call to order five pizzas in the name of the officer who arrested him. The pizzas were then delivered to the police station, to the confusion of officers. This was either an A-plus troll move or an act of kindness. Something tells me this guy knew it was going to be a long night for everyone involved and just wanted to get the party started right. The authorities were not amused, however, and are now adding charges of impersonating an officer to his shoplifting counts.
Just like at last weekend’s Bunbury Music Festival, this weekend’s inaugural Country/Folk/Americana-centric Buckle Up Music Festival (founded by the creators of Bunbury) will feature several great Cincinnati area artists. Fans planning to attend the fest (running today through Sunday at Sawyer Point/Yeatman’s Cove on the riverfront) should definitely makes time to check out some of the locals — collectively they are proof that Greater Cincinnati’s Roots scene remains one of the strongest in the region. (Click on each performer’s name for more info and song samples and click here for a map with stage locations.)
Greater Cincinnati acts performing at Buckle Up on Friday include The Dan Varner Band (2 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), Andrew Hibbard (2:45 p.m.; Acoustic Stage), Lonesome Jared & the Heart Attacks (2:45 p.m.; Lawn Stage), Jamison Road (4:15 p.m.; Acoustic Stage), Messerly and Ewing (5:45 p.m.; Acoustic Stage), Jeremy Pinnell and the 55’s (6:30 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage) and Pistol Holler (8 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage).
On Saturday, catch local Buckle Up performers Wild Carrot (2:45 p.m.; Acoustic Stage), Shiny and the Spoon (2:45 p.m.; Lawn Stage), Kentucky Timbre (3:30 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), Buffalo Wabs & the Price Hill Hustle (5 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), Arlo McKinley & the Lonesome Sound (5:45 p.m.; Lawn Stage) and The Tillers (8 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), who recently had their amazing new music video for the track “Willy Dear” world-premiered on the site for American Songwriter Magazine.
Sunday’s Buckle Up lineup features area performers Honey & Houston (2 p.m.; Lawn Stage), Alone at 3AM frontman Max Fender (2 p.m.; Acoustic Stage), The Kentucky Struts (2:45 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), JetSet GetSet (3:30 p.m.; Lawn Stage), Straw Boss (4:15 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage), Mark Utley and Bulletville (5 p.m.; Lawn Stage), Bobby Mackey (5:45 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage) and Noah Smith (7:15 p.m.; Amphitheater Stage).
For the full Buckle Up lineup, ticket information and more, visit buckleupfestival.com. And check out our interview with founder Bill Donabedian about Buckle Up and last weekend’s Bunbury fest here and Brian Baker's Top 10 "must-sees" here.
The Commonwealth Theatre Company's production of Route 66 continues its dinner-theater run at Northern Kentucky University. It's about a band traveling from Chicago to the West Coast in the 1960s along one of America's most legendary highways. Along the way, they meet a lot of colorful characters and see a lot of America. Wes Carman, Roderick Justice, Dain Alan Paige and Joshua Steele make up "The Chicago Avenue Band," who make stops at juke joints, diners, cheap motels and curio shops in this coming of age story. Through July 27. Dinner and the show ($30): 859-572-5464.
Last Saturday evening I ended up at Highlands High School in Fort Thomas to see teacher Jason Burgess's production of The Addams Family featuring a herd of high school kids from all over Greater Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. It's a perfect musical for the program Burgess has created (C.A.S.T, the Commonwealth Artists Summer Theatre), bringing together a ton of students who are in love with theater. Surrounding the central characters in The Addams Family, nicely portrayed by Aaron Schilling as Gomez, Lindsey Gwen Franxman as Morticia and Harrison Swayne as Uncle Fester, are 18 ghostly "ancestors." Each one is costumed (designer Laura Martin) from various periods with a clearly evident character; together they sing and dance as a coherent company. (Amy Burgess served as the production's choreographer, and Alex Gartner is the music director — in creepy makeup.) Through Sunday at 2 p.m. General admission ($10) at the door or online via www.showtix4u.com.
Monday evening at 8 p.m. brings the third installment of Serials! at Know Theatre (1120 Jackson St., Over-the-Rhine). It's a wacky summer-long set of a half-dozen episodic plays by local playwrights. So far we have seen meat falling from the sky, an NSA spook monitoring a contentious couple, a kid refusing to go to a funeral, a philosophical fetus, a suicidal pair competing over techniques and more. Each 10-15 minute episode is preceded by a clever recap to catch you up, even if it's your first time there. Rest assured there are cliffhangers — not to mention Know's well-stocked Underground Bar. Admission is $15. Tickets: 513-300-5669.
Maybe the summer heat is stifling the writers’ vocab, (or they were out having too much fun this weekend at Bunbury) but there weren’t very many vocab words this week. That being said, that’s no excuse to let your vocabulary get stagnant, we’ll go with what we have …
requisite: a thing necessary for the achievement of a specific end, n.
My college education hasn’t thus far outright taught me this word, but now I see I knew it all along. I know perfectly well “prerequisite” means “course you need to take before you take you’re smart enough to take the one you really want.” So a requisite is also something that is necessary. It seems that requisite and prerequisite are synonyms (so Google tells me), why are they both needed?
In the issue: “Don’t forget the requisite potato pancake on the side,” referring to Rascals’ NY Deli in the Doggie Day in Amberley Village picnic option. I agree, potato products are a requisite for happiness — a good picnic, I mean. Is it lunchtime yet?
sycophantic: using flattery to win favor from those with influence, adj.
Without reading the definition, finish this sentence: If a journalist can be described as sycophantic, that journalist is also … ? Got nothing? Me either. Let’s get straight to the context clues.
In the paper: “Part of the problem, Sullivan said, is the failure of sycophantic Times writers and editors to ‘challenge and vet the views of these government sources,’ ” in this week’s edition of Ben L. Kaufman’s Curmudgeon Notes. In the past three weeks, we’ve heard about mislabeled sources, shield laws and jingoistic editorials — anybody else miss Worst Week Ever?
Bonus Round: The bonus round is just as long as the regular round, folks.
nascent: a process or organization coming into existence and displaying signs of future potential, adj. Like when you read blog the first week you thought, “the nascent copy editing blog.” Scavenger Hunt! Maybe I’m crazy but I can’t seem to find this word in the issue …
Exclusive cultural lesson for the week!
So there’s a movie out now called And So It Goes, with Michael Douglas and Diane Keaton. TT-stern-enzi (in a preview that was cut for space) described Keaton’s role in the film world right now as the woman that gets the lothario male character to settle down a la As Good As It Gets with Jack Nicholson. I’m not a movie previewer but maybe the preview will get posted online today (I don’t know, I’m not the web editor or anything).
So Lothario is the name of the male character in The Impertinent Curiosity, a metastory in Don Quixote. Lothario is a seducer of woman, giving his name use as a noun meaning, “a man who behaves selfishly and irresponsibly in his sexual relationships with women.”
Sideways rain and swamp-ass, but it wasn't so bad. The storms were intermittent, the day was clearly not a total washout and, out of the nine days of Bunbury over the past three years, this one might just have ended on the highest note of them all.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by above-and-beyond volunteer Jacob Heintz, who advised serious attention to hydration, as several people had already passed out from the heat. In order to accommodate more fluids, I needed to make a deposit at the Yeatman's Cove First National Bank of Evacuation.
You know what's great about the Porta-Kleens in the summer? Heated seats. You know what's not great about Porta-Kleens in the summer? Heated everything else. I felt like I was microwaved to about medium rare by the time I was done with business. But I was treated to a bit of pithy wisdom in the form of a neatly scrawled line of graffiti in the unit — "No one is free. Even the birds are chained to the sky." Of course, the trade-off is that birds can shit anywhere they like, which somehow seems to involve my windshield an inordinate number of times a week.
At any rate, a spotty rain began within minutes of my arrival, so I headed down to the Main Stage to see if things were continuing on schedule. On the way, I passed Daniel in Stereo on the Acoustic Stage, where he seemed to be offering an evocative Jeff Buckley vibe. Very nice. When I got to the Main Stage, the Brick + Mortar set had just begun. The politically conscious World Rock guitar/drum duo from Toms River, N.J., was cooking along nicely, but about three songs in, the lightning flashed, the thunder cracked and the staff shut them down.
"That sucks," noted guitarist/vocalist Brandon Asraf. "I had just tricked you into liking me for a minute." Then he launched into a stand-up comedy bit, quoting Half Baked and bemoaning his lack of life compared to his engaged drummer, John Tacon. "I'm single and chubby. What's up?" he said, canvassing the crowd.
The crew finally had to shut off the power so that was the end of Brick + Mortar. (The band will return to Cincy on Aug. 15 for a free show on Fountain Square.)
Shortly after that, the flaming finger of God erupted from multiple clouds and the rain, gentle at first, ultimately came pissing down from the heavens. I had taken refuge in the Yeatman's Cove tunnels and thought I'd gotten way lucky to avoid the torrential downpour, but that proved ineffective as well when a tornadic wind blew the rain horizontally straight through the passageway. Everyone was drenched from cowlick to ass-crack and beyond.
Luckily, the storm didn't last long and the only issue at that point was how long the clean up and reset would take. I wandered down to the Main Stage to see if Red Wanting Blue was going to happen, but it appeared as though it would take a considerable amount of time, so I motored back down to the Warsteiner Stage to see what progress had been made there.
To my unending delight, Kim Taylor was just getting started about the time she should have been wrapping up. I've been completely smitten with Kim's work since a friend at my long since defunct graphic design day job lived in the same apartment building with her. She had just begun her music career and had given my friend a copy of her self-released EP, which he passed along to me. Her gently compelling voice, her introspective and intelligent lyrics and her melancholic mastery of melody certainly gave me a chill similar to the one I felt after my first experience with Suzanne Vega, but Kim was most assuredly following a unique path, and so it has remained for the past decade and a half.
I've seen Kim numerous times over the years and written at least three features and a few MidPoint previews ahead of her releases and appearances, and she never disappoints, as an interview or as an artist. The power of her presentation at Bunbury was obvious; with no more than her acoustic guitar and drummer Devon Ashley, Kim Taylor turned the vast expanse in front of the Warsteiner Stage into an intimate performance space that crackled with a quiet intensity. It is powerful testimony to Kim's ability to hold an audience that, with dark clouds roiling overhead and thunder rumbling ominously in the distance, there was even greater drama brewing on the Warsteiner Stage.
After a quick stop to use the Big Mac Bridge as an umbrella, it was down to the Lawn Stage to witness the mind-bending energy of The Yugos. The relatively new and insanely young four-piece channel the absolute best elements of '70s Punk and New Wave with a dash of Surf and a couple hundred thousand volts of charisma. Spend any appreciable time with The Yugos and you'll detect distinct flashes of the jerky time signatures of XTC and Talking Heads, the Pop verve of Flock of Seagulls and the dark intensity of Echo and the Bunnymen. Drummer Jordin Gough jumps around the stage as though fire ants have been ceremonially sewn into his black jeans; he stands on his drum stool and beats on his kit from above, he takes the floor tom into the audience and thumps on it like a brave calling his tribe to action, while bassist Jeremy Graham provides an equally schizophrenic bottom and guitarists Christian Gough and Jackson Deal are peeling off punky New Wave riffs and licks that are as nerve-rattlingly appealing as The Cure on speed or Devo on hallucinogenics laced with antipsychotics.
At their Lawn Stage set, The Yugos rolled out their latest track, "Follow You," did the song about a dream where a robot chased Christian down a hill, constantly called out a guy in the audience that looked like James Franco, dedicated a song to Seth Rogen and implored the assembled multitude to shake their asses. Comedy, Surf/Punk and a heart needle full of adrenaline combine to make the perpetual motion music machine known as The Yugos; with five years under their belts already, they're bound to last a hell of a lot longer than their namesakes.
After a delicious burger from Dutch's in the Craft Beer Village and an equally delicious Puma Pilsner, courtesy of Black Owls hammer Brian Kitzmiller, it was a stroll over to the Main Stage to see ZZ Ward crank up her last couple of songs for a large and enthusiastic crowd and then down to the River Stage to catch a few songs from hot DJ/multi-instrumentalist Robert Delong, who filled the Serpentine Wall with Electronic music devotees who were digging his live-looped vibe with an almost religious fervor. Back on the Main Stage, Young the Giant blasted the swelling multitudes with the sticky/sweet Indie Rock hard candy that put them on a lot of attendees' must-see lists.
I took my leave of the growing crowd in front of the Main Stage — a combination of devoted Young the Giant fans and Flaming Lips aficionados staking out their space for the imminent start time — to catch The Orwells at the Warsteiner Stage. The Orwells made my personal don't-miss list after a little due diligence in checking out their history and sound online for a preview in last week's CityBeat and they didn't disappoint.
The quartet's central Illinois lineage is pretty much all the Pop cred they require and they use it to sweeten their rough-edged Garage/Punk love, as evidenced on last year's Disgraceland and the subsequent Other Voices and Who Needs YouEPs. Given the band's ramshackle nature (they'd pair up nicely with Cincy bands Mad Anthony or The Harlequins for a local show), it seemed like The Orwells might come a little unglued in the live presentation, but they were perhaps a little more restrained than I would have imagined. That could have been the post-storm vibe. They did toss out a raw chunk of the Foundations' "Build Me Up Buttercup," so that was pretty cool. Here's hoping we can get them back for a full show in better circumstances in the very near future so we can see what happens when The Orwells really put the pedal to the floor.
I reluctantly ducked out of The Orwells a bit early to establish position for The Flaming Lips’ show, given the crush of rabid fans that were in all likelihood packing the front of the stage. For the sake of full disclosure, it should be noted at this juncture that I was looking forward to this show because I am a Flaming Lips virgin. I drank the Kool-Aid with Oh My Gawd!!! way back in 1987, but missed the local show on that tour because of my freelance production schedule.
Since then, I've totally dug the studio Lips but somehow have never found my way to experiencing the live Lips; the closest I've ever gotten was nine years ago when I was in Austin for SXSW and Wayne Coyne came rolling down Sixth Street in the bubble with some sort of boombox entourage trailing behind, offering a soundtrack to the proceedings. And I suppose I could claim a certain amount of Lips cred for my two band interviews, the first with Steven Drozd in 2003 after the release of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and the second with Wayne in 2008 to talk about the DVD release ofChristmas on Mars.
But the Bunbury show represented the taking of my live Flaming Lips cherry; after a quarter century of studio foreplay, I was more than ready. And what a glorious deflowering it was.
After taking to the stage, which was appointed like a Peter Max flashback of Leary-esque proportions, the Lips launched into "The Abandoned Hospital Ship," with Wayne outfitted in a tinsel hairsuit that gave him the appearance of a glammed up Sasquatch. When it was over, he greeted the crowd warmly and promised that, should the rain begin again to the extent that the show had to be stopped, the Lips would be staying and they would finish the show, no matter what. The vast expanse of Lips fans roared their relief and the band shot headlong into "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. 1," and the crowd's bliss was palpable.
After a set that was filled with brilliant Lippage ("Look...The Sun is Rising" and "A Spoonful Weighs a Ton" among them), dancing rainbows, magic mushrooms big enough to give Mario a coke boner, a gyrating sun and a video/LED presentation splashy enough to trigger a mild epileptic seizure, the clouds cried just slightly at the prospect of the end of the evening. The Lips took a short breather and then returned with the biggest one-two pay-off in Bunbury's short but potent history; the gorgeously contemplative "Do You Realize??" from Yoshimi and an absolutely epic version of the Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," punctuated by several blasts from the four giant confetti cannons on stage. If I smoked cigarettes, I surely would have sparked one up after that conclusion.
And thus marked the end of Bunbury's third installment. The last day's weather difficulties notwithstanding, it was another flawlessly presented and managed music festival put on by one of the city's most knowledgeable and Zen-like business heads, Bill Donabedian, and his amazing staff, who all handle every detail from gravely major to almost subatomically minor with a combination of ninja professionalism and weaponized OCD. And, as Bill would be the first to tell you, it couldn't be done without the walking live army of volunteers who make this thing run with the precision of God's pocketwatch.
Plans are already afoot for Bunbury 4; they get harder to surpass with each subsequent summer, and somehow Bill and his festival all-stars manage to do just that. See you at the gate next July.
• A lot of notable absences in the crowd this year, particularly my brother-from-another-mother Matthew Fenton. Either he just couldn't make it down this year, or he's actually perfected his cloak of invisibility and skillfully avoided me for the entire weekend. I hope it's the former.
• Even with Sunday's threatened inclement weather, or as departing WCPO meterologist Larry Handley would characterize it, the blow job that nobody wants (no, Larry wouldn't say that, but I would and, in fact, just did), there was still a great turnout for the day's lineup. There was the inevitable run-in with Brent and Kat, and that makes every day worthwhile; they headed down to Brick + Mortar and after a swing around the grounds, I headed that way myself.
• With the advent of lightning and the first shutdowns of the day, I headed for the Yeatman's Cove tunnels before things got too crazy. Moments after entering, the sky opened up and the rain pissed down, so I thought luck was on my side. I stopped to talk with a group of photographers, one of whom I've seen numerous times at Bunbury and MidPoint, which has made us sort of nodding acquaintances. We chatted for a bit, then he introduced himself as Steve Ziegelmeyer and asked if I had attended a wedding last year for someone from Jungle Jim's. In fact, my wife and daughter and I have gotten to know one of the guys from the dairy department at the Route 4 store who goes by Squidd, and when he announced that he was engaged, he insisted that we come to the wedding, which we were honored to do. Turns out Steve's wife works with Squidd's wife at Jungle Jim's Eastgate store, and he was at the wedding. And when he said it, I totally remembered seeing him there and completely blanking on where I knew him from. He gave me his card and an idea for a feature; I'll be remembering him now.
• While I was waiting to see what would come of Kim Taylor's set, up strolled Eddy Mullet and his daughter Jess, looking none too worse the wear from Saturday's festivities. (Well, Eddy doesn't drink and Jess is 17, so the beating I take is typically incrementally worse than theirs, but I digress.) When the storm cranked up again, we headed for the shelter of the bridge and told ghost stories (they've got really good ones) until the sound of The Yugos drew us to the Lawn Stage.
• We were headed to Robert Delong's set when I was waylaid by Mr. Brian Kitzmiller, a drum beater of epic reputation and a beer buyer worthy of sainthood, or at least knighthood. When I steered over to Dutch's food booth for a burger, Brian introduced me to Jerry and Pam who run Dutch's (Brian knows at least 60% of every group of people that he finds himself in), as well as a couple of guys from the band The Easthills, who were playing the part of the Black Owls this year (their early afternoon set was rained out, like the Owls’ were in Year 1.) Over by the Delong set, the ubiquitous and always welcome King Slice appeared, as did Owls bassist Kip Roe and his sons, Kip Jr. and Ben, and we had ourselves a Rock & Roll convoy.
• Just before the Lips' extravaganza got underway, I ran into 500 Miles to Memphis frontman Ryan Malott, another prince of the local music realm, who was on his way down to the Warsteiner Stage to catch The Orwells. We had talked about the show when Ryan came into Class X to do Eddy's Kindred Sanction program for a Bunbury preview and a chat about the new 500MTM album, Stand There and Bleed, and I'm glad he reminded me. As I hit the Craft Beer Village on my way to The Orwells, I was absolutely floored to see my old friend Ric Hickey, one of the best guitarists this scene has ever produced, escorting his ladyfriend Michelle down to the Lips show. We caught up for a hot minute, then went our ways. Once at the Warsteiner Stage, as The Orwells were winding up, I spotted Mark Messerly near the back of the crowd, clearly contemplating how he would approach his Messerly & Ewing gig at next week's Buckle Up. No he was not; he was drinking a beer and imploring The Orwells to ramp it up. You know Mark. Venomous Valdez was right behind him, a vision in yellow on her birthday eve. Many happy returns, double V. And I finally caught up with Ryan, who introduced me to his lovely and relatively new wife Gina (I had to ask for her name twice because I'm old, I've got 40+ years of Rock & Roll ears and The Orwells had, in fact, ramped it up). As NRBQ once noted, you're good people, you are.
• We all wound up hanging together for a good portion of the Lips' set, but one of my favorite moments was the Roe boys' faces when I confessed that this was my first live Lips lock. They couldn't have looked more astonished if I'd told them I'd just eaten a half pound of heroin-soaked grapes. Kip and his boys have seen the Lips on numerous occasions and, as a result, once we got camped near the stage, Kip Jr. tapped me on the shoulder and very politely began pointing out the elements of the Lips' set design and what everything was for. It was a very good tutorial, a sweet gesture for a teenager to connect with an old duffer such as myself, and proof positive that childrearing is a high art and Kip Roe should teach the whole bloody world exactly how to do it.
• Finally, for the third consecutive year, the unofficial and extremely subjective results of my annual “Best T-Shirts at Bunbury” competition, selected and judged by me alone. This year was interesting for a couple of reasons, primarily because of Saturday's headliners, Paramore and Fall Out Boy. Their numerous fans were displaying their band love loud and proud, but I was struck by a rather odd observation; I'm fairly certain I didn't see two Fall Out Boy T-shirts featuring the same design (at least until the day after the show, when people who didn't have shirts likely bought them at the merch booths). Someone is accruing Donald Trump-like wealth from marketing an almost endless variety of FOB tees, that's for bloody sure. The other constant on Saturday was a steady parade of people in Ramones tees, in honor of Tommy Erdelyi, the last surviving original member of the legendary Punk band who succumbed to cancer on Friday. Bogart's owner Al Porkolab used to say that the best seat for a Ramones show was across the street at Dollar Bill's, where you could hear every note perfectly. I got his point, but I preferred my Ramones straight from the pipe. At any rate, R.I.P., Tommy.
And so, as always, in no particular order, until the winner at the end:
I (graphic of Kurt Russell as Snake Pliskin) NY
Bad Decisions Make Great Stories
I Had Fun Once. It Was Awful.
Y'All (in the Yale typeface)
G-Dub (with George Washington in Raybans)
Nope (with Shepard Faireyesque cat illustration); followed by
Dope (with Shepard Faireyesque Questlove illustration)
There were many Foxy Shazam tees as well, including a vintage Flamingo Trigger design but my favorite was “Foxy Shazam. White Music for Black People”
Got B3? (I'm assuming they mean the keyboard and not the vitamin)
I Eat Glitter for Breakfast
Rock is Dead. Long Live Paper.
I May Be Your Best Option
I Ain't Even Mad
And my favorite T-shirt from this year's Bunbury crowd:
T-Rex hates push-ups (with a silhouette graphic depicting exactly why)
Another pretty good day overall. The temperature was a little higher, as was the humidity, and even when the clouds moved in and things seemed perhaps a little iffy, the good weather prevailed and all was right for the second day of Bunbury, v.3.
The day began as it ended the previous evening, with some quick face time with volunteer excelsior and one of the scene's most gifted guitarists, Jacob Heintz. A Bunbury blessing from Jacob is the first step in a great day. And before I'd even gotten to the gate, I was called out by Brandon Weaver, owner/operator of Iron Wing Studio in Covington, who hosted my interview with Seabird last year; he's got a great facility and he's a really nice guy, so if you're looking for a place to paint your sonic masterpiece, give him a call.
I wasn't really committed to seeing anything until relatively late in the schedule, so I decided to just float around the stages for the first few slots and maybe do a little sampling from each. It was a pretty successful plan, as it turned out.
My first stop was the Warsteiner Stage to check out Miner, but the guy at the mic introduced the group as the Family Band, so apparently there was a Miner adjustment. Hahahahahahaha. I'm laughing because I know you're not. At any rate, the rather large band sounded a lot like our own Josh Eagle and the Harvest City, if they'd been juiced up on My Morning Jacket. They were quite good.
Next it was a quick jaunt down to the Amphitheater Stage to see Brent James & the Vintage Youth. What started out as super tight bar boogie a la Aerosmith evolved into a super smart Rock show that drew on any number of potent influences, all of which were on full display when James and the Youth rolled out an absolutely jaw-dropping cover of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues," a blazing blend of Bon Jovi dramatics and Georgia Satellites off-the-rails jamarama. Equally impressive was James' soulful swagger on "Needle to the Groove," and imagine my surprise when James called out his band, which includes regional wunderkind Ricky Veeneman, who won the 1999 Jimi Hendrix National Guitar Competition (when he was 15, by the way) and bassist Matt Gandenberger, who provided four-string assistance on a couple of tracks on Ricky's 2003 album, Change. James noted that the band would be opening for ZZ Top at the Horseshoe Casino in the near future, so here's a note to ticketholders — don't skip the opener.
After the Vintage Youth, I wandered down to the Main Stage to take in a little of Crass Mammoth's set. After a handful of songs, they struck me as gritter, punkier Modest Mouse with a Classic Rock vein and melodic Pop undercurrent that guitarist/vocalist Joseph Crowe characterized as "the cute part of the show." And once that was concluded, the north Georgia trio went right back to raw and ripping mode. There's a good chance that Crass Mammoth made as many new fans today as they drew from their fervent existing fan base.
From there, it was back to the Warsteiner Stage for an uplifting and raucous set from the pride of Hartford, Connecticut, Bronze Radio Return. Although there was more than a hint of Mumford and Sons/Lumineers Folk/Pop to BRR's presentation, there were also Rock elements ranging from The Black Crowes to Tom Petty to shades of Crash Test Dummies. The band drew a relatively big crowd and a good many of them were already fans, as evidenced by the large number of people singing along with nearly every song. Bronze Radio Return's frontman, Chris Henderson, was engaging and very much the band's ringmaster, their material was anthemic and joyful and I would love to see what the band would do with a long form set.
At this point, I decided to get my wander on and just roam the Bunbury grounds getting a taste of the musical talent that had been assembled for Day 2. First, there was New Politics down at the Main Stage, which reminded me of Neon Trees with a considerably heavier bottom and a Hip Hop heart. Next up was Bonesetters, a great Americana/Indie Rock band from Indianapolis that shimmered in the heat of the Lawn Stage with a palpable Jim James/Ryan Adams/Eef Barzelay vibe. Then it was back over to the Warsteiner Stage to catch a few songs from Nashville's Fly Golden Eagle, an atmospheric Roots/Soul/Psych Rock aggregation that grooves and jangles and totally lives up to the title of their 2011 album, Swagger. They've toured with Alabama Shakesm Dr. Dog and Arctic Monkeys and garnered comparisons to Lips both Black and Flaming, Beck and the Black Crowes, and that adds up to a band that needs to come on back.
After digging a few FGE songs, I drifted down to the Amphitheater Stage to enjoy local-girl-made-good Jesse Thomas, who's gotten her songs placed on Shameless and Hart of Dixie. The L.A. resident/Covington native has a tang and twang that suggests Patty Griffin, Kathleen Edwards and Shawn Colvin, and that ain't bad company no matter how you slice it. Jesse drew a pretty healthy hometown crowd and she made the most of her first festival appearance, Bunbury or otherwise.
After Jesse Thomas' spirited set, it was a short stroll over to the Lawn Stage to experience the full frontal assault of Nashville's Modoc, who I got into by way of a story I did earlier in the year on Melvin Dillon and his vinyl-only label Soul Step Records. Modoc was one of Melvin's early signings when he approached the band about pressing vinyl on their excellent debut full-length. In the studio, Modoc make a mighty racket that crashes happily at the intersection of Led Zeppelin and Southern Rock, but everything that the band does so well in the sterile confines of the recording booth are amplified a dozen times and set ablaze like Jimi Hendrix's Stratocaster. Thunderous riffs, razor wire slide leads, pummeling bass lines and a drum sound heavy enough to drill through solid bedrock, Modoc does it all with a wink/nod sense of humor and a joyful passion that comes through with every note. They've played a couple of MidPoints (they’ll be back for this year’s MPMF) and they're building a pretty sizable following, if their Bunbury turnout was any indication. And as frontman Garry Crisp so eloquently put it, "We love Cincinnati. It's got sin in it twice!" Right back atcha, G-Dawg.
I managed to see at least some of Jane Decker's set. I'd talked to Jane and bassist Mitch Winsett two years ago when Belle Histoire was still a viable concern, but the band has since scattered to the wind and Jane has stepped away from a band configuration to make her mark as a solo artist. Her Bunbury set was supposed to be a full band gig, but something happened in the days before the festival and she wound up on the Lawn Stage singing to the acoustic guitar accompaniment of Sean (just Sean, apparently), her songwriting partner on a good deal of the album that is currently being mastered for an imminent release. Jane auditioned for The Voice last season and was bounced because the judges didn't know what to do with her. As I sat listening to her acoustic set at Bunbury, her incredibly poppy songs stripped to the essentials of Jane's beautiful Dolores O'Riordon-tinted voice and the simple counterpoint of Sean's tasteful acoustic soundtrack, I cannot imagine what Adam Levine wasn't hearing. Any of the songs Jane presented in her acoustic set could be produced up to megahit proportions and go toe-to-toe with Lorde, Arianna Grande, or whoever is the flavor of the moment. It certainly seems like Jane's moved beyond The Voice incident (the failure being theirs and not hers), and is ready to pursue her dream and make a skadillion dollars without Blake Shelton's help.
Molly Sullivan won the Singer/Songwriter CEA back in January and every time she puts herself in front of an audience, she offers a little more evidence to support that honor. She has an amazing vocal range, from midnight howl to 3 a.m. hush and she has the uncanny ability to shift from melodic Folk/Pop beauty to dissonant Jazz artfulness while retaining the thread of her creative identity. Molly's set at the Acoustic Stage was simply fantastic, further proof that her CEA win was no fluke and is likely to be followed by a few more similar triumphs down the line.
Over at the Main Stage, it wasn't too hard to see why Paramore is the current darling of high-octane Pop Rock. The band was physically moving air during their powerful and obviously well received set; their drums pounded their way into your rib cage and altered your heartbeat to a different time signature. I stuck around for a handful of songs but ultimately opted for an early exit in order to find some prime real estate on the Serpentine Wall.
Tonight would be Foxy Shazam's second appearance at Bunbury, and they had their work cut out for themselves. No one who witnessed their gig at the inaugural Bunbury two years ago will ever forget it; frontman Eric Nally imploring the Reds' Joey Votto to "hit the motherfucker out of the park," and Sky White tossing his keyboard into the crowd and then leaping in after it, continuing to play while the audience held it and him aloft. Oh, and they played a lot of great music. And therein lies a common misperception, that the band's onstage antics are somehow going to detract from their musical performance. This notion is typically floated by people who have never seen Foxy Shazam work an audience like a skilled pickpocket while simultaneously putting on a dazzling Rock show.
As advertised, Foxy presented their new album Gonzo in its entirety for the first 30 minutes of the set, with bassist Daisy Kaplan on guitar and guitarist Loren Turner on bass (it was a device they used to jump start the writing process and they decided to maintain the set up for the live translation). Where The Church of Rock and Roll was more of an immediate album, Gonzo is a work that reveals its gifts slowly, and those albums always seem to wind up being fan favorites. The packed Wall showed their appreciation for Gonzo with a fevered response to each of the album's nine songs.
Of course, it wouldn't be a Foxy show without Nally's brilliant non sequitur patter — like "The only difference between me and a scholar is how much we paid for what we know," and "If it was legal to shoot people, I'd be dead." The real showstopper came in the second half of the set, when Foxy hauled out the back catalog and Kaplan and Turner returned to their regular roles. By this time, trumpeter/vocalist Alex Nauth had tossed his horn into the light rigging a half dozen times, White had played his keys with his ass and Nally had somersaulted, vaulted, balanced and slid all over the stage.
After blowing through high voltage turns on "Holy Touch" and "I Like It" (where Nally adlibbed, "Let me see your butthole, baby," something I'm fairly certain I never heard Barry White utter), among others, Nally introduced the band's last song of the evening thusly: "This next song, this last song, is about time travel. I wrote it next week." And with that, Foxy Shazam roared headlong into "Unstoppable," the anthemic 2010 hit from their self-titled album. As the band neared the end of the song, Nally called for cigarettes from the crowd; grabbing one from a pack, he lit it with a lighter thrown on the stage and called for the lights to be killed. As "Unstoppable" faded to its squalling conclusion, Nally blew sparks out of the end of the cigarette into the darkness on the stage, and then shrieked, "You're all pregnant!" He dropped the mic, the lights came up and that was the end. As unlikely as it seemed less than an hour before, Foxy Shazam had indeed cleared the bar they'd set two years ago. As the late Jack Palance used to intone on a weekly basis, "Believe it … or not."
I hung around after Foxy to chat with ClassX Radio’s Eddy Mullet whose daughter had a little trouble with rude doofuses, but he handled it with aggressive diplomacy. We were talking about our plans for the end of the evening, and I was tempted to bail on Fall Out Boy to get home and get started on these reviews, while Eddy seemed ready to call it a day as well. But at the last moment I decided to catch at least a few songs from the last band of the day, and announced it with the unfortunate phraseology, "I think I'll go check out a little Boy." Eddy's daughter Jess went, "Uhhh. …" Point taken.
So we all headed off toward the Main Stage area, me to find a good viewing position and them to see if the exit next to the stage was open (it wasn't). Having come this far, Eddy decided to stick around as well, and so we all lingered for a bit to witness the Pop/Punk majesty of Fall Out Boy. I've always liked the Wentz/Stump dynamic, perhaps not enough to passionately explore their output, but more than enough to appreciate the fact that they've elevated the conversation in the genre. But as Shakespeare noted, the play's the thing, and Fall Out Boy do the thing pretty well.
Bookended by festival closers that were and would be visual orgasms of color and light (Empire of the Sun on Friday, Flaming Lips on Sunday), FOB chose to make their presentation the spectacle, playing their hits and beyond with an expansive flair without forgetting that they were compact and energetic Punk-tinted Pop songs. About midway through the set, an already adrenalized crowd went ballistic when Paramore's Hayley Williams stepped out to duet with the band on "Sugar, We're Goin Down," and the frenzy just continued from there. Patrick Stump played to the hometown crowd by giving a shout out to "our friends in Foxy Shazam," which was nice, and later Stump asked how many parents were in the audience, and reminisced how his father would take him to Punk shows in Chicago when he was a teenager, and as a tribute to all the DNA-linked chaperones in attendance, peeled off a sweet version of "We Are the Champions," followed with an incendiary spin through "Save Rock and Roll."
At that point, we took our leave to beat the rush; as I was headed toward my car, I could hear the strains of "My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark," and I was really glad I'd stuck around to experience Fall Out Boy in this perfect setting.
• On Bunbury Day 2, I began the day by filling the gastank with a carton of Island Noodles (with the teriyaki chicken, thank you), an amazing repast that lasted well into the evening, when I had a slightly less amazing but incredibly delicious Kobe Dog from Dutch's booth. Both are highly recommended (but the noodles are less likely to stop your heart; on the other hand, we're walking it off, are we not?)
• Saturday had a much different crowd vibe than Friday, due to the headliners for the evening, Paramore and Fall Out Boy. Usually I run into a half dozen friends and acquaintances before I've decided on which lunch and what beer to chase it. But it wasn't too long before I ran into Brent and Kat, the scene's most visible couple. They mentioned they were going to catch an unannounced set by Billy Catfish, and Kat said that she had noticed a distinct similarity between Billy's eyes and Brent's eyes. To that end, she noted that if Brent kicks it, she's going to ask Billy out. To which Brent replied, "If Kat dies, I'll ask Billy out, too." Together in everything, as it should be. Not long after, I crossed paths once again with another prince of the realm, The Ready Stance's Wes Pence and his son Wyatt, on the lookout for action of every imaginable variation. If you don't know Wes, there is a great gaping void in your life. And if you don't know The Ready Stance, same thing. As Dr. Steven Brule says, “Check it out.”
• I had seen photographer extraordinaire (and CityBeat alum) Sean Hughes having a little difficulty getting into the photo pit at the Warsteiner Stage with his pass on Friday (for the love of Annie Leibowitz, do you people know who he is?), and I told him that I was about to come over and throw my weight around. Not influence — I have none of that anywhere — but my actual weight. I can create a fatass distraction like nobody's business. On Saturday, Sean noted that he could have used my help later the day before, but I reminded him, "I can't be where you are, you have to be where I am, that's how my fatassery works." Then he saw girls in the misting station and said, "People getting wet … that's my thing," and off he went. Another prince? Most assuredly.
• At the Modoc show, I caught up with Soul Step Records owner/operator Melvin Dillon and his lovely sister Wendy. I figured I'd see Melvin there; he's a big fan of Modoc, having sought them out specifically to press the vinyl version of their self-titled debut LP. Melvin mentioned that he's currently working with a big name local band (I won't jinx the deal by announcing anything … yet) to do the vinyl version of their new album. Stay tuned. It will be epic.
• Once again, ran into Eddy Mullet, only this time with two daughters in his entourage; his youngest daughter Cassie was along for the ride on Saturday. Not quite the music fan that her sister Jess has become, Cassie did have a full-bore good time at the Foxy Shazam extravaganza, so she may be making some forays into the local music world with dear old dad in the near future. Or maybe not. Kids will always find their own way.