The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Friday, September 8, 2017 — 5A
Arts

COURTESY OF LOLLAPALOOZA

Festival Report: Lollapalooza succeeds in surprising

As the first music festival 

I’d ever been to, Lollapalooza 
blew all my expectations out of 
the park; all that food, music, 
people and excitement, nestled 
smack dab in the middle of 
Chicago. My only regret is that 
I wasn’t able to experience 
more; I couldn’t mosh to the 
eclectic EDM at Perry’s while 
simultaneously absorbing the 
fresh new wave tracks at BMI. 
I didn’t have the funds or the 
time to try every single food 
that Chow Town offered. I 
couldn’t make it through a day 
without at least one frantic pee 
break.

The variety of performances 

and genres I was exposed to 
made me dizzy; if there’s one 
thing that I hated about Lolla, 
it’s that I simply didn’t have 
the energy to bounce through 
all four days as energized as I 
wanted to be. Grant Park itself 
was larger than I expected, and 
merely walking from one end 
of the park to the other was 

enough to tire me out. It wasn’t 
until the end of the second 
day 
that 
I 
could 
navigate 

confidently, without fear of 
being swept up by the flurry of 
people.

As I slowly climbed over 

the hill that dipped down to 
reveal the Lake Shore stage 
for the first time, my legs 
were weak with excitement. 
Hippo Campus’s chilled down 
yet still undeniably energetic 
rock welcomed me warmly. 
Even though I hadn’t listened 
to much of their discography 
beforehand, 
the 
strum 
of 

guitars and smooth, chiming 
vocals sounded exactly like a 
cooler, less angry version of the 
alternative rock I listened to in 

high school. As the sun wove 
back and forth under the angry 
grey clouds, I sat back and tried 
to enjoy what I could before the 
rain unloaded on my friends 
and me.

I arrived at the BMI stage 

just in time for the latter half of 
Gibbz’s “Bright Lights,” a song 
that’s just as mesmerizingly 
radiant as the name hints. 
“White out / Fixing all the slow 
pokes / Keeping them all ali-
i-ive,’” Gibbz sang, his voice 
rising with the short, snappy 
bite of the lyrics.

Gibbz’s 
self 
proclaimed 

“electro pop” thrums and buzzes 
with a force that is entirely 
absent 
from 
more 
acoustic 

genres. A cocktail of solid, 
weighty bass, sharp buzzing 
chords and gliding electronic 
tones result in a smooth yet 
refreshing 
performance. 

The combination of Gibbz’s 
easygoing personality and the 
relatively older audience made 
me feel like I was at a low key 
outdoor concert rather than at 
a music festival.

From the get go, I liked 

the 
BMI 
stage 
more 
than 

any of the other stages I’d 
sampled. The smaller venue 
meant performances felt more 
exclusive. Rather than having 
one artist scream at hundreds, if 
not thousands of festivalgoers, 
there was only room for so 
many people, and the best part 
of a smaller crowd is that nearly 
everyone has a clear view of the 
performer.

Gibbz played a few more of 

his trademark tracks, including 
the 
smooth 
and 
suggestive 

“Stay for a While.” His set 
ended far too soon.

After scarfing down some of 

the best chicken tenders I’ve 
ever had (courtesy of Harold’s 
Chicken) 
and 
taking 
an 

impromptu nap under the trees 
by the food stands, I headed to 
the Bud Light stage for some 
good old fashioned waiting.

I don’t like hip hop. If Lorde 

weren’t 
playing 
after 
Wiz 

Khalifa, I wouldn’t have even 
gone to his set; for much of the 
festival, my tactic was to avoid 
the huge, super popular artists 
simply because it was such a 
pain to get anywhere near the 
stage. But for Lorde? I’d suffer 
through the mosh pit. Heck, I’d 
suffer through the mosh pit to 
end all mosh pits.

Wiz sauntered out to the 

maniacal screams of hundreds 
of fans, lit up by the diffused 
glow of the afternoon sun as it 
shone through the cloudy haze 
that hovered over the crowd. 
The 
bright, 
rambunctious 

energy was difficult to ignore, 
even for me. As “Bake Sale” 
boomed over heads and into 
hearts, 
Wiz 
bounced 
on 

his heels, adjusted his oval 
sunglasses and smirked.

Halfway into his set, Wiz 

brought out Ty Dolla Sign for 
“Paranoid,” an entrance that 
was punctuated by a person 
next to me turning around and 
exclaiming “Ty Dolla Sign? 
That man sure can sing!”

The end of Wiz’s set was 

accompanied by frantic Lorde 
fans pushing towards the stage 
and the first faint raindrops of 
doom. As the wait ticked away, 
the rain fell harder and harder, 
until all hope of staying dry 
was lost. Some people huddled 
together underneath a rain 
poncho. Others faced the water 
head on, unblinking even as it 
turned the ground underfoot 
to sticky mud. It was for Lorde! 
‘Twas all for Lorde!

We waited almost an entire 

hour 
longer 
than 
planned, 

and it was one of the most 
excruciating hours of my life. 
Anticipation grew as the sun 
finally set, the sky darkening 
overhead.

A splash of red. A blur in 

the shadows. When the lights 
finally shone, we screamed. 
Lorde’s 
movements 
were 

assuredly confident, her eyes 
shiny and she was every bit the 
icon her music made her out to 
be. She launched straight into 
“Green Light,” her voice tense 
with emotion as violins rang 
clear in the background. Just as 
she made it to where the build 
begins, right before the chorus, 
the lights dimmed again and 
she stopped.

Over? Already? No way.
Don’t you think that it’s 

boring how people talk?

And we were back at it — 

people were ecstatic that our 
Lorde and Savior was playing 
her old songs. While Lorde 
swayed, danced, and performed 
her heart out right in front of us, 
a dancer in a glass box moved 
behind 
her, 
illuminated 
by 

blue light. Although the stage 
provided some shelter from 
the rain, the water bounced 
off the smooth surfaces of the 
equipment and the stage floor 
itself. With every pass Lorde 
made across the stage, the mist 
soaked her until she began 
to resemble the soggy fans 
clamoring beneath her. She’s 
human, after all.

When Lorde finally paused 

to greet everyone, it was with 
the same quirky flair she’s 
famous for: “It’s weird. We’ve 
been 
getting 
this 
fucking 

crazy weather wherever we 
go — wind, thunder, lightning, 
rain. And I like to think, 
Lollapalooza, it’s because you 
and I, tonight, we’re gonna 
conjure the spirits.”

We shivered and crowed. 

The entire performance was 
otherworldly, as if Lorde had 
teleported the crowd to another 
dimension meant just for us. But 
as she went to perform a song 
that had never been performed 
live, the worst possible thing 
happened; the festival got shut 
down. While I understood the 
reasoning behind the decision, 
a small part of me couldn’t help 
but stew at how unfair it felt.

The crowd waited around 

for a few more minutes until it 
became obvious there was no 
way Lorde was coming back 
out. As I trudged toward the 
exit, muddy rainwater soaking 
my socks, I’m just grateful to 
have seen Lorde at all.

Day two is for exploring. 

Now that I’ve had my first taste 
of Lolla’s various offerings, my 
friends persuade me to widen 
my horizons further. As I’m 
dragged to the Perry’s stage, 
which is in the middle of San 
Holo’s set, I’m apprehensive but 
also excited.

Hardcore 
EDM 
fans 
are 

likely intimately familiar with 
the specific styles and nuances 
that differentiate EDM artists, 
but to me, all of them sounded 
pretty much the same; the 
flashing, blinding lights, the 
spine shaking, quivering chords 
and bubbles of bright, exploding 
sound. When I screamed, I 
couldn’t hear my own voice, but 
that’s the appeal, isn’t it?

Perry’s is not for the faint 

of heart. But if you can look 
past the miasma of sound and 
stimulation, 
the 
energy 
is 

absolutely unparalleled.

After a few hours of EDM, 

I’m wilting again. Another trip 
to the food stands for a tasty box 
of Mad Social’s poutine leaves 
me refreshed and energized 
for 
Missio’s 
performance. 

The duo, which consists of 
vocalist Matthew Brue and 
instrumentalist David Butler, 
are known for their fresh take 
on punchy, intense electronica. 
At the BMI stage, tracks from 
their debut album Loner fill 
the air with a dark, tumultuous 
ambience.

In a later interview, Missio 

and 
I 
talked 
about 
their 

songwriting process and their 
hopes for the future.

“I was in love with Tool 

and heavy bands [when I was 
younger], and I think the way 
we just mangle it all — almost 
as if if an electronic band 
was grunge — I think that’s 
why it comes out sounding 
like that,” Butler said. “It’s 
been 
interesting 
because 

we never really thought of 
ourselves as a rock band, but 
we connected with a lot of rock 
crowds because there’s a lot of 
aggression and attitude in what 
we’re talking about, but there’s 
also aggressiveness in the way 
the sound is produced, which 
comes from our roots.”

Missio’s 
discography 

encompasses a huge variety 
of soundscapes, such as the 
difference in tone and emotion 
between the vengeful, intense 
“Everybody Gets High” and 
the cooler, more even tempered 
“Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea.” 
Part of that variety is due to the 
unique inspirations that Brue 
and Butler gravitate towards.

“I think from a melody 

standpoint, I get a lot of 
inspiration 
from 
different 

modern folk singers,” Bruce 
said. “For some reason, those 
melodies have been ingrained 
into me since an early age, 
so 
bringing 
them 
into 
an 

aggressive pop context is just 
different from what I think 
people are used to normally 
hearing.”

The variety in tracks is 

also due to the duo’s relaxed 
songwriting process. Rather 
than trying to reach a goal track 
number, they let songs develop 

organically.

“We don’t go into a writing 

process or a writing day or go 
‘I think we need to write a song 
like this.’ It depends on how 
we’re feeling and lyrically what 
we want to talk about, whether 
we’re in a mellow mood or not,” 
Bruce said. “It’s just, let’s write 
as many songs as possible—let’s 
write a song today cause we’re 
songwriters and we have to do 
that, and whatever comes out 
comes out.”

For now, Missio is focused 

on staying true to the mission 
that the group was founded 
on: creative progression and a 
commitment to genuine music.

“To have fans that resonate 

with us emotionally, that will 
grow with us emotionally and 
listen to what we have to say is 
the dream for every musician,” 
Butler said. “To just be heard, 
you know. That’s the journey.”

Day three started off quite 

a bit later than I had planned. 
While my friends had wanted 
to see Aminé, we ended up 
stuck in the bag line for two 
hours, completely missing his 
1:50 performance. A tip for new 
festivalgoers — when possible, 
leave your bag behind, or make 
sure to get inside before the 
early afternoon rush.

We made it to the Pepsi 

stage just as The Japanese 
House started their set. Solo 
artist Amber Bain’s melodious, 
uniquely relaxing, delicately 
produced tracks are especially 
otherworldly under the shade 
of the trees that circled the 
stage. For a while, it felt like I 
was 
submerged 
underwater, 

listening to the harmonies of 
“Clean” from beneath a layer of 
shimmering, undulating waves.

As 
the 
heat 
grew 

suffocatingly sticky, I went 
to go see Glass Animals at the 
Grant Park stage. A full hour 
in advance and the area was 
already packed with sweating 
bodies, some of which were 
probably waiting for Chance’s 
performance at the same place 
later that night.

Like 
many 
other 
artists, 

Glass 
Animals 
doesn’t 
fit 

perfectly into any one musical 
genre, 
but 
they’re 
one 
of 

few bands that have a truly 
distinctive, psychedelic sound. 
Hearing 
the 
bittersweet 

sadness and interspersed beats 
of “The Other Side of Paradise” 
performed live was absolutely 
enthralling in and of itself, but 
combined with lead vocalist 
Dave 
Bayley’s 
zany 
dance 

moves, the experience was 
downright extraordinary.

Glass 
Animals 
performed 

songs off of both Zaba and How 
to Be a Human Being while a 
humongous golden pineapple 
rotated slowly behind them. 
They ended their show with 
“Pork Soda,” a peppy, fittingly 
pineapple related track.

Rather than stay for the 

hordes waiting to see Chance, I 
decided to turn in early for the 
night.

Day four started out both 

bright and sad. With a late start 
to the day and a mid afternoon 

bus to catch, I only really had 
time to see one artist, so I went 
to the Grant Park stage for the 
final time.

The 
thing 
about 
Maggie 

Rogers is her joy. It’s evident in 
everything she does.

When she ran out onto the 

stage, a glittery red blur, she 
was smiling so hard that the 
entire crowd could feel that joy. 
After waving a few times with 
both hands, she settled into the 
smooth, mellow tones of “Color 
Song,” the first track off of her 
EP. The understated poetry of 
the lyrics combined with the 
dragonflies that hovered right 
above our heads was idyllic.

Rogers has some of the best 

qualities that a performer can 
have. She’s both humble and 
proud, acutely aware both of 
the places she’s been and of the 
ways she’s grown: “This is my 
first summer playing festivals, 
and it’s been amazing. I’ve 
gotten to travel all over the 
world, and it feels so good to 
finally be at home,” Rogers said 

during a pause between songs.

As a new performer, Rogers 

is a breath of cheerful fresh 
air among fellow rising stars. 
She played every single track 
off of her EP and a few oldies 
from her days as a student 
at NYU, and even joked that 
“The problem with only having 
one EP out is that you don’t 
actually have enough songs 
to fill an hour long set,” while 
smiling luminously. Her bubbly 
personality didn’t waver once 
during her show.

More than anything, Lolla 

took the predictability out of 
regular musical performances. 
The variety of artists meant 
you could walk in with a plan 
but walk out having seen a 
completely 
different 
set 
of 

artists. 
Perhaps 
even 
more 

importantly, 
every 
single 

person I met in Grant Park was 
absolutely thrilled to be there, 
from the musicians themselves 
to the people helping out at the 
Camelbak Hydration Stations. 
When I left, scanning my 
wristband for the last time, it 
was with the certainty that I 
would return to Grant Park’s 
green pastures once more. With 
so many lifelong memories 
made in so little time, how 
could I resist?

SAMANTHA LU
Daily Arts Writer

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The variety of 
performances 
and genres I 

was exposed to 
made me dizzy; if 
there’s one thing 
that I hated about 

Lolla, it’s that I 

simply didn’t have 

the energy to 

bounce through 

all four days

More than 
anything, 

Lolla took the 

predictability out 
of regular musical 

performances

CONCERT REVIEW

