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Thursday, August 2, 2018
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
ARTS

With just one look at the 2018 
lineup for Mo Pop Festival, anyone 
with a decent grip on modern 
music knew the event was going 
to be a hit. Stationed in Detroit’s 
West RiverFront Park adjacent to 
the Detroit River, with Detroit’s 
eclectic skyline as a backdrop and 
equally eclectic acts like Bon Iver, 
The National, BROCKHAMPTON, 
Billie Eilish, Rex Orange County, 
Homeshake and Clairo, all the Mo 
Pop administration had to do to 
satisfy ticket-holders was not make 
a Fyre Festival. And they did exactly 
that. 
The festival was organized to 
maximize the music on display: 
Two stages, 200 yards apart, an 
overlap-free (a.k.a. anxiety- and 
regret-free) performance schedule 
and minimal other attractions save 
a neat arcade courtesy of Punch 
Bowl Social. There wasn’t much 
going on, but not much has to go 
on when you’re hopping back-and-
forth from Clairo to Rex Orange 
County to Homeshake to Billie 
Eilish to Alvvays — does a more 
solid quintuple threat exist?
The minimalist nature of the 
festival also made it easy on social 
groups; with just two stages and 
a one-act-at-a-time platform, the 
dreaded group-schisms that tend 
to plague big events like music 
festivals were pretty avoidable.
— Mike Watkins, Daily Arts 
Writer
Clairo
The queen of bedroom pop 
had an extremely impressive and 
dynamic backing band, something 
unexpected from an artist who first 

turned heads with her minimalism. 
The drums knocked, the bass 
bumped, and the guitar cooed, 
making for a steadily enjoyable set 
and a great start to my Saturday at 
Mo Pop. 
— Mike Watkins
Rex Orange County 
Charming British, boyish singer/
songwriter or just a bad Frank 
Ocean?
— Mike Watkins
When I first saw Alexander 
O’Connor, 
from 
a 
distance, 
I 
thought he kind of looked like Bo 
Burnham. He wore a colorful, 
striped tee shirt that set him apart 
from the rest of his band, and he had 
an self-assured way of singing that 
at times made it feel more like he 
was reciting poetry. His deliveries 
of “Best Friend” and “Untitled” 
were surprisingly touching, but the 
most tender moment came during 
“Loving Is Easy,” when everyone 
in the crowd joined together to sing 
along. As one of the earlier acts on 
Saturday, Rex Orange County was 
instrumental (get it?) in setting 
the tone for the rest of the festival. 
While later acts might have been 
more explosively memorable, Rex 
Orange County brought a shrewd 
sentimentality onstage that added 
color to Mo Pop as a whole.
— Laura Dzubay, Daily Arts 
Writer
Billie Eilish
My friend told me Billie was 
16 and I collapsed in a fit of self-
loathing and jealousy. This young 
woman controlled her crowd like 
a seasoned pop star and is primed 
for a boundless music career (see: 

Lorde).
— Mike Watkins
Alvvays
If Mo Pop was a dream, Alvvays 
was the moment when you’re falling 
asleep and you let go of everything 
that kept you tired. The indie set 
was a excellent precursor to Vince 
Staples and Bon Iver, and a perfect 
experience of synth pop in general. 
Molly Rankin led the audience 
on a carousel ride through songs 
like “Dreams Tonite” and “Archie, 
Marry Me,” hitting every note with 
exuberance and spirit.
— Laura Dzubay
Vince Staples
Probably the most fun experience 
of Saturday was being in the crowd 
for Vince Staples late in the evening, 
jumping and shouting along to 
songs like “Norf Norf,” “Big Fish” 
and “Get the Fuck Off My Dick.” 
Staples himself was charming. 
His was the last act before the 
headliner, Bon Iver, which seemed 
like an appropriate way to round off 
the night. Staples was energetic and 
exciting, a bang on which things 
easily could have ended, and Bon 
Iver was able to seal the deal under 
the stars afterward.
— Laura Dzubay
Bon Iver
The money set; the big kahuna; 
the primary reason Mo Pop was 
such a draw this summer: Bon 
Iver. Indie’s king, Justin Vernon, 
and his band graced Detroit for the 
first time ever to deliver the most 
unbelievable live performance I 
have ever seen.
The stage was filled to the 
brim 
with 
music 
equipment. 

Ten feet from the stage, I stood 
in anticipation wondering what 
Vernon and his men planned to 
do to me with these sonic tools. 
I predicted where Vernon would 
stand and planted myself between 
two 12-foot men for the perfect 
view. When the band assumed their 
positions on stage, the crowd fell 
under Vernon’s electro-folk spell for 
an hour and a half. The ear-tickling 
falsettos of For Emma, Forever 
Ago and Bon Iver, Bon Iver and the 
digital mush of 22, A Million merged 
seamlessly under Vernon’s raw 
and passionate stage presence; his 
modified melodies, lively shouts and 
charged audio pulsated through 
the crowd to create an experience 
impossible to achieve anywhere but 
a live setting.
For the last song of the set, “The 
Wolves,” Vernon enlisted the crowd 
to loop the phrase, “What might 
have been lost,” as the band grew 
their sound to a chaotic crescendo. 
As the performance peaked, the 
crowd screamed ferociously in an 
exhilarating atmosphere of pure 
emotion that seemed to bridge the 
gap between the performers and 
the audience for a brief moment. 
The song ended; Bon Iver thanked 
the crowd and exited the stage; I 
was satisfied. 
Then, in front of the dark stage, 
the crowd began to stir; the same 
phrase, “What might have been 
lost,” grew from a timid experiment 
to a roaring beckon in which you 
couldn’t help but participate. We 
were calling on Bon Iver, but with a 
more personal touch that reflected 
the band’s ability to impress and 
move its fans. Eventually, dark 
shadows hopped across the unlit 
stage, and the band returned for an 
encore. Bon Iver gave us a fitting 
and introspective reminder of our 
own mortality with a performance 
of “22 (OVER SOON)” and left for 
good.
— Mike Watkins
Early on in Bon Iver’s set, I 
lingered toward the middle of the 
enormous crowd, trying to figure 
out what I was supposed to be 
feeling. Periodically I’d close my 
eyes and tune into the live renditions 
from 22, A Million swelling from 
the stage speakers — but I was also 
acutely aware of a group of people 
standing nearby, who kept breaking 
the rapt silence of the audience with 
loud shouting and peals of drunken 
laughter. Live music tends to be a bit 
of a mixed bag in this way, but as the 
set went on, we wriggled forward 
in the crowd, gaining both distance 
from the noise and a slightly better 
view of the stage.
The immersion, for me, happened 

gradually, but it also happened 
naturally, because Bon Iver’s music 
is nothing if not immersive. Almost 
everyone in the crowd closed their 
eyes and swayed to the music, 
standing near friends and the ones 
they loved while a bright full moon 
perched high above the Detroit 
River and the lights of Windsor. 
It’s hard to say what was more 
transfixing — the sounds of Bon Iver, 
or the sight of the moon’s reflection 
spreading over the river — but then 
again, this didn’t feel like an either/
or situation. Everything that was 
mesmerizing, was mesmerizing at 
once.
Anyone who came looking to 
hear strictly softcore acoustic tracks 
like “Skinny Love” and “Re: Stacks” 
might have been disappointed or 
at least surprised by their setlist 
on Saturday, which covered a wide 
variety of material spanning across 
all of their eclectic releases from the 
last ten years. But it ended up being 
an ideal ending to the day as the 
atmospheric synths and hypnotic, 
high-pitched vocals filled West 
Riverfront Park, sending us off for 
the first good night of the weekend.
— Laura Dzubay
St. Vincent
A neon goddess. Annie Clark 
wore a tight orange dress and heels 
that looked like they’d been flown 
in from outer space (or some ‘70s 
or ‘80s vision of it, anyway) and she 
switched to a new bright color of 
electric guitar every couple of songs. 
She shared the space of the stage 
equally with guitarist Toko Yasuda, 
keyboardist Daniel Mintseris and 
drummer Matt Johnson, the latter 
two of whom moved only minimally 
and robotically, and wore bizarre 
masks that obscured their faces. 
On the screen behind her, music 
videos displayed Clark in a variety 
of situations that felt bizarre and 
sometimes 
body-horror-esque: 
stepping 
through 
hoops 
and 
climbing ladders in increasingly 
sped-up and boomeranged footage, 
speaking into a telephone while 
bright blue vomit dripped from her 
lips.
Every 
movement 
was 
coordinated 
and 
confident, 
every 
song 
captivating. 
St. 
Vincent’s closing performance of 
“Happy Birthday, Johnny” was 
unquestionably the most heartfelt 
and personal moment of Mo Pop, 
and a clear reminder to the audience 
that while we had all come here to 
share this moment with each other, 
the artists were sharing it with us, 
too.
— Laura Dzubay

Mo Pop 2018 benefits from 
consistent, balanced lineup

FESTIVAL REVIEW

JOSHUA HANFORD/@HOMIESWITHHANFORD

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