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Thursday, June 9, 2016
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
ARTS
Governors Ball brings music and thrills
MUSIC FESTIVAL REVIEW
Festival features
both talent and
disappointment
By NATALIE ZAK
Daily Community Culture Editor
NEW YORK, N.Y. — It was the
best of times, it was the worst of
times — it was a music festival
scheduled for three days that
only stretched to two. There was
music and laughter, giddiness and
excitement, but also there was
deep, unadulterated betrayal as the
three-day Governors Ball festival
stopped abruptly in its tracks after
the second evening came to a close.
But, for the first 48 hours,
festival
goers
were
in
bliss.
Perfect 80 degree weather blessed
Randall’s Island on the first day
and for most of the second, until
the rain came crashing down at
6 and refused to cease until the
entire
premises
was
flooded.
But, the spirit of Governors Ball
refused to die in the puddle of mud
that swelled up around the feet of
attendees and drenched the entire
island. The spirit lived on in the
music junkies who ran through the
rain towards the stage, towards
whatever musical agent would
make the torrential downpour
more bearable and bring a little
warmth to their shivering spines.
The
Strokes,
The
Killers
and Kanye West were all set to
headline. The Strokes and The
Killers performed. I know safety
was of paramount concern for the
Governors Ball organizers when
deciding to cancel the third day
of the festival, and I know the 90
percent chance for thunderstorms
could only breed disaster, but there
was always hope. And, sitting
here, inside, typing away, I’m
overcome with nostalgia for the
exhilaration and adrenaline rush
of the first two days while trying
to escape despair for the death of
day three. This paradox exists on a
momentous scale only because the
first two days were highlighted by
extraordinary bands and singers.
Governors Ball 2016 was taken
from us prematurely, and this
will weigh heavy on my heart for
quite a bit, but so will the ecstatic
memories of the first two days,
days marked by performances
never paid testament to before.
Years & Years
“He’s like a cooler Troye Sivan,”
the girl standing next to me said
upon laying eyes on the lead singer
of Years & Years, Olly Alexander.
An alt pop band out of London,
Years & Years brought a frenzy of
energy to the stage as they burst
into their hit single “King” and
Alexander danced, kicked and
spun across Big Apple Stage. With
a three-piece ensemble, little of the
stage was covered, but as the band
channeled their alt pop sound and
Alexander spun around stage in a
rainbow jumpsuit, I couldn’t take
my eyes away. Slower anthems like
“Eyes Shut” and a finale of “Desire”
only did more to solidify their
entrance and eventual dominance
of the electropop scene, calling on
the swiftly degenerating Walk The
Moon to take a step back and make
room for their young faces.
Action Bronson
What can be said about Vice food
correspondent Action Bronson. Is
he outrageous? Yes. Is he enraged?
Definitely. By what, I’m still unsure,
but I do know that watching him
strut around Honda Stage as if
he owned it, spitting verses and
bringing out chef Mario Batali and
other treasured guests was one of
the most entertaining, breathtaking
spectacles I’ve ever seen. He ran
with hits like “Actin’ Crazy” and
“Terry” while paying testament to
his roots as a chef by hoisting an
aluminum tray of food I can only
assume was a three course meal
he cooked himself. There was a
watermelon given by a devout fan
and a FaceTime call to his daughter.
There was a question and an
answer:
“What do you wanna hear?”
Bronson asked.
“Baby blue, baby blue, baby blue,”
hundreds of fans sang.
“What do you want me to do
about it?” he spat in reply.
Big Grams
Big
Boi
and
Phantogram,
Phantogram
and
Big
Boi.
In
2010, Big Boi posted a link to
Phantogram’s
single
“Mouthful
of Diamonds” on his website, and
from there a collaboration involving
Phantogram duo Sarah Barthel and
Josh Carter was born. The music is
groovy and smooth, with hip-hop
stylings and electro pop influences
respectively, but the majority of
their performance sadly lacked
this groove. A mix of the audience’s
unfamiliarity with their music and
a lack of charisma on the duo’s
part made their stage presence less
enticing than their debut album,
not to mention an unsettling verse
rapped by Carter during “Goldmine
Junkie.” But as the set wound
down, they finished with a mash-
up of Phantogram’s “Mouthful of
Diamonds” and Outkast’s “Ms.
Jackson,” a performance that didn’t
need charisma or familiarity, only
every audience member yelling “I
didn’t mean to make your daughter
cry.”
Father John Misty
Josh Tillman, goddamn Josh
Tillman. This glorious man gave
one of the most empowered,
emphatic performances I have
ever witnessed. His songs drip
with vitriol and his stage presence
drips with sex appeal as he
unapologetically
condemns
his
love life, his audience, himself
and America song after song. He
dances, jumps and runs off stage,
even lying down at one point during
“True
Affection,”
relaying
the
lyrics to the audience from that
vantage point. At times like these,
it seemed more like an exorcism
than a catharsis, but then he would
preach some godless verse and I’d
be reassured that no greater power
was involved other than the higher
power that is the music industry
itself. Three times some sweeping
emotion caused his microphone
stand to break, but Tillman never
resigned to the roadie sent out to
replace it; instead he simply pushed
on. He moved with the beguile of a
dancer, his body betraying feigned
bashfulness
and
amusement
through lyrics laced in satire. If
Tillman was an actor, “Bored in
the U.S.A.” was his Milton and
“Holy Shit” was his Hamlet. If he
was a god, the audience would be
constructing shrines in his honor to
the tune of “Chateau Lobby #4.”
Beck
He’s the cool uncle that never
stopped
being
cool.
He’s
the
45-year-old
man
who
wears
sunglasses
and
smokes
Camel
cigarettes in the shade, but no one
says anything to him because he just
can. He shows up on some religious
holiday in a leather jacket and a
motorcycle while your dad rolls his
eyes because he secretly, no, openly
resents the bachelor-pad lifestyle
of his brother. This entire aesthetic
is accepted by the hundreds of
festival attendees who swarmed to
the main stage for his incredibly
packed set list, including hits like
“Go It Alone,” “Mixed Bizness,” and
“Sexx Laws” as well as a tribute to
the recently deceased David Bowie
with a cover of “China Girl” and
Prince. Leading up to his rendition
of “Raspberry Beret” he spilled his
heart to the audience through his
black tinted sunglasses and leather
jacket about his relationship with
Prince — a fleeting, but affecting
one. Prince presented Beck with
his Grammy for Best Album for
Morning Phase, and in return, Beck
seized his chance to hug Prince, an
idol of his, without any indication
of whether this was an O.K. move
on Prince’s end. Not until watching
the footage of the award ceremony
afterwards was he reassured by the
smile that stretched across Prince’s
face, and thus delivered to the
audience this day not one, but two
tributes to this treasured idol.
Jamie xx
It’s hard to imagine In Colour
playing outside of the solitariness
of one’s headphones. Other than
“There’s Going to Be (Good Times),”
the breakout hit of the record and
one of the finest Young Thug features
out there, the music is something
contained within one’s earbuds,
enclosed in that narrow mental
space. That was the case for me, at
least, until I had to push my way
through the swarms gathered under
the Bacardi House Stage tent to see
the breakout member of indie pop
band The xx spin his records under
flashing lights and witness an “All
Under One Roof Raving” take place.
He played popular tracks like “Loud
Places” that brought shivers down
the spine when accompanied by his
remix of Florence + The Machine’s
“You’ve Got The Love.” A remix of
The Human League’s “Don’t You
Want Me” was thrown in there too,
along with a denouncement by the
twenty-something in front of me
who commented “Wasn’t this a hit
in like 1986?” It was 1982, sir, and if
Jamie xx can spin it, I don’t see what
the year has to do with anything.
The Strokes
The crowd in front of the
GOVBALL Main Stage stretched
for miles. I’ve seen people before,
even large amounts of them, but
never so many together in close
confines all progressively getting
more and more impatient as the
minutes dragged on. At 9:00, fifteen
minutes before The Strokes were
scheduled to go on, concert-goers
were waiting in anticipation; at 9:15,
their scheduled playing time, the
island buzzed with energy; at 9:30,
any movement behind the thick
screen of smoke was greeted by
shrieks and applause; at 9:45, there
were riots narrowly avoided by
Julian Casablancas and the rest of
the band’s entrance. From there, the
night took off into a frenzy of music
as my middle school angst and
unrequited attempts at edginess
were relieved. Every other person
in the crowd shouted in sync to
the shrieks of guitar and somber
words of Casablancas as they played
hits like “The Modern Age,” “Last
Nite” and “Someday” as well as
songs from their four track feature
released that day, such as “Threat
of Joy” and “Drag Queen.” But
somberness was far from the theme
of the night for either The Strokes
or audience members, and from this
came the increasingly digressing
ramblings of Casablancas and a
beautiful rendition of The Clash’s
“Clampdown,” a song they have not
performed live in over ten years.
With a conclusion of “You Only
Live Once” as the encore, the crowd
exploded in energy as it surged
towards the stage wanting to savor
the sounds of their adolescence and
fleeting feelings of their youth.
See GOV BALL, Page 12
ZACH MOORE/Daily
New Yorkers and tourists alike enjoy the spectacle of Governors Ball.