7

Thursday, June 6, 2019

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com ARTS

Amid earth-shaking thunder-

storms and sweltering heat, New 
York City’s Governors Ball start-
ed and ended with a bang — liter-
ally. The third and final day of the 
outdoor music festival on Ran-
dall’s Island came to a close with 
performance cancellations, a tor-
rential downpour and hundreds 
stranded as they awaited a break 
in the storm. But before Mother 
Nature arrived in all her won-
drous fury (some cosmic karma, 
perhaps, for all the littered beer 
cans), there was Saturday night. 
And Saturday night at the Gover-
nors Ball was glorious.

With several stages and an 

extensive list of performances 
to choose from, the Governors 
stage in particular beckoned with 
promises of Kacey Musgraves’ 
sweetheart country, The 1975’s 
techno rock ‘n’ roll and Florence 
+ the Machine’s otherworldly 
performance. 

Musgraves took to stage first, 

adding a dose of country flair to 
the evening lineup. Dressed in a 
matching floral top and pants, 
her outfit was reminiscent of the 
rhinestone-studded 
glamor 
of 

previous country icons. Standing 
atop the Governors stage, Mus-
graves put on a show, the crowd 
eagerly singing along to her mel-

low tunes. As she serenaded the 
sizable audience with her hit 
“High Time,” fans could be seen 
“swimming” through the crowd 
in an amusing display of misheard 
lyrics, mistaking the line “It’s 
high time” for “It’s high tide.” 

Musgraves’s songs, although 

beautiful, were ill-suited for an 
outdoor festival; much of her per-
formance lacked the electricity 
and energy needed to amp up a 
crowd. However, Musgraves put 
forth a good effort to engage with 
fans, throwing in some admirable 
(but flat) remarks about the start 
of Pride mMonth. Her heart of 
gold, too, was on full display as 
she reflected on promoting posi-
tivity and love — the belief that 
love can find a way fueling her 
music-making. But as fun as it 
was to “yee-haw” and “hell -nah” 
alongside Musgraves as she tried 
to add a spark to an eager but 
stifled crowd, the performance 
itself was ultimately lackluster. 

Where 
Musgraves 
failed, 

however, British pop-rock band 
The 1975 succeeded. The band 
rolled in like thunder and struck 
the crowd with lighting. Every-
thing about the performance 
was 
energetic 
and 
colorful: 

Behind the band, a kaleidoscope 
of lights and images played on 
stage, mirrored by the setting 
sun, which illuminated the sky 
with rainbow hues (a natural 
phenomenon that seemed a cos-

mic salute to Pride month). 

The smell of stale beer and 

press of sweaty bodies aside, as 
The 1975 played the crowd in an 
almost sinful display of musical 
mastery, everything was over-
whelmingly beautiful. A “New 
York moment” is what I would 
call that Saturday night: a rare 
experience of the intimate, innate 
connection between strangers in 
New York City. 

Lead singer Matt Healy was a 

sight to behold, dancing, grinding 
and gyrating like a pro — at risk of 
offending the king of rock ‘n’ roll, 
Healy could have given Elvis Pre-
sley a run for his money. About 
three songs into the band’s hour 
long set, Healy stripped some lay-
ers off to the animalistic cheers 
of the audience. “I know, we 
keep getting better, right?” Healy 
called out, at once arrogant and 
delightful. The second half of the 
set saw Healy’s swagger on stage, 
accompanied by a cigarette in one 
hand and a cocktail in the other: a 
true man of the people. 

What was most enthralling 

about The 1975 was the deep 
sincerity with which they per-
formed each song. Nothing about 
their performance suggested they 
were going through the motions. 
No, Healy and the rest of his 
beloved band made every song an 
independent, emotional experi-
ence. By the time the band finally 
left the stage, the audience vis-

ibly deflated, a mix of disappoint-
ment and utter exhaustion. It was 
like The 1975 had held the crowd 
in some hypnotic state, where 
release was only granted when 
the band was good and done. 

The 
1975, 
without 
doubt, 

improved upon Musgraves’s ear-
lier performance by leaps and 
bounds. As the clock ticked on 
and the final rays of sunshine 
flickered out, Governors Ball 
came to a quiet pause. Or, more 
accurately, it was the calm before 
the storm.

Then, out of the darkness came 

Florence + the Machine.

Florence herself arrived bare-

foot, dressed in a sheer gown 
like a heroine from a gothic 
novel. Her fiery red hair swung 
unbound behind her. The night 
was dark, but not fearful; there 
is never room for fear in the pres-
ence of Florence. As the beat 
dropped, she raised her arms up 
to the sky as if in offering, and 
then, there was light — literally, 
it wasn’t until 30 seconds into the 
first song that any lights turned 
on at all. 

The entire experience was 

otherworldly. Florence + the 
Machine always have a dreamlike 
style, with songs that are lyri-
cally beautiful and complex. But 
to see Florence perform in person 
is something else entirely. She 
seemed almost ethereal; a wild, 
beautiful creature, running and 
dancing across the 
stage. Her move-
ments sharp, then 
suddenly soft and 
flowing. 
With 

every song, every 
note, every word, 
Florence 
chan-

neled the energy 
through 
her, 
as 

if her body was a 
mere conduit for 
some greater power. Take the 
music away, and Florence could 
have been a body possessed in a 
horror movie — not horrifying, 
but as if there was something else 
present on stage with her. 

Her 
music, 
powerful 
and 

strong-willed, seemed a comple-
ment, rather than a contradic-
tion, to Florence’s sweet, gentle 
personality. As she spoke for the 
first time to the audience, Flor-
ence gently admitted her own 
anxiety about speaking to such a 
large crowd. In response, jubilant 
cheers and cries of love erupted 
almost violently from the audi-
ence. It was like a harsh, demand-
ing tug on your soul: No, Florence, 
do not apologize or be afraid! It 

seemed divinely unjust for a per-
son so beautiful (both inside and 
out) to be humbled by the masses 
that often weep and whisper her 
name like a prayer in their dark-
est moments. 

And really, it was as if Flor-

ence was a goddess. Every word 
she spoke, the audience strained 
to hear, catch and hold within 
their hearts; every request was 
treated like a commandment. 
Florence asked us to turn to one 
another and embrace each other 
— so we did. She asked us to give 
words of love and positivity to 
each other — a girl yelled in my 
ear that she liked my scarf, and I 
hugged her and waxed poetic on 
her earrings. Florence asked us to 
put away our cell phones — every 
screen switchedblinked off. 

The magnificence of Florence 

+ the Machine was a combination 
of evocative music and a power-
ful stage presence. Audiences 
react and take their cues from 
the artists on stage; an engaging 
artist makes for an engaging per-
formance. Florence, more so than 
Musgraves or The 1975, gave her-
self utterly and completely to the 
moment, to the music. Her scant 
dress and bare feet heightened 
the connection between musi-
cian and audience member. It 
was as if Florence rooted herself 
to the stage, to the very ground. 
It was watching Florence on the 
jumbo screen kiss the forehead of 

a young man at the 
front of the crowd; 
desperately 
clasp 

hands 
with 
the 

arms that reached 
out to touch her; 
sing 
among 
the 

audience with a 
flower-crown a fan 
gave her that made 
Florence 
seem 

both larger-than-

life, but also closer and more inti-
mate than any artist before. 

Florence told the audience 

that she wanted everyone there 
to share and indulge in an expe-
rience. She wanted to create 
something that would stay with 
us — with her — and mark the 
moment. Together, we did. No 
one who cheered for an encore 
at near-midnight will ever for-
get the evening of Saturday, June 
1, 2019, spent sweaty, tired and 
cramped on Randall’s Island, 
awaiting that moment we would 
never forget. The moment we 
would tell our friends, our family 
and maybe one day our children, 
and grandchildren, and nurses at 
the senior living facility.

The Brits bring down the 
house at Gov Ball in NYC

MADELEINE GANNON

Daily Arts Writer

FESTIVAL COVERAGE

GETTY IMAGES

Then, out of the 
darkness came 
Florence + the 

Machine.

