Lollapalooza isn’t a festival; it’s a metropolis. Eight stages swarm nearly all of Grant Park’s 319 acres, making the festival one of the largest in the country if not the world. Of course, it wasn’t always this way. Back in 2005, when the brand was just an underdog finding a home in Chicago, the Perry Farrell-led fiesta was fighting to stay alive after its heartbreaking cancellation in 2004. (That year, dynamite acts like Morrissey, PJ Harvey, Sonic Youth, The Flaming Lips, Wilco, and many more were left without summer plans and scrambled to readjust their touring itineraries. It was a disaster.) But as history shows, the Grant Park experiment was a grand success, resulting in nine successful years that have turned the brand into an essential facet of Chicago’s tourism. What’s more, Lollapalooza has grown into an international enterprise, and the modifier “-palooza” has been adopted as an idiom for all things partying.
This year’s 10th installment at Grant Park was just as successful financially speaking. Tickets sold out, stages were slammed, and the park continued to feel more overwhelmed. But there’s something missing these days. Whatever Lollapalooza originally stood for — an off-the-path chance to experience something alternative in music — has been warped for years. Critics have written about this year after year, especially with the inclusion of more mass-marketed EDM and pop-oriented flair. Yet, even despite these tired grievances, 2014’s lineup disappointed on another level: the lack of any identity whatsoever.
Upon its unveiling, the Internet — specifically, the online festival scene — erupted in disappointment, lambasting the (rather abrupt) returns of Eminem and Kings of Leon, the unimaginative headliners in Skrillex and Calvin Harris, and the run-of-the-mill midsection that’s been a part of just about every festival these past few months. Even the booking of OutKast was labeled as easy-to-please, regardless of the fact that they’ve been one of the most requested acts over the last decade. Most of these criticisms were a tad unfair, sure, but they weren’t exactly unwarranted, either. What used to be a chance to catch The Alternative has since become an opportunity to witness The Current. By that standard, the lineup came up rather short.
But then the weekend actually came, and the negatives slowly turned into positives. (Well, aside from the ugly controversy surrounding Dev Hynes’ set, which we’ll further discuss in the pages ahead.) Eminem made up for his lousy and unimaginative performance in 2011, Kings of Leon introduced a string section, and the EDM was easy to ignore, namely because there was always something else to find. Look, Lollapalooza’s certainly guilty of becoming more or less gluttonous over the years with regards to expansion, which has certainly reached its nadir. But said gluttony has provided brilliant alternatives; for example, each night, if you “couldn’t give a fuck” about the main headliners, The Grove and Perry’s were perhaps your refuge.
Photo by Joshua Mellin
That explains why Phantogram entertained those who didn’t care for Eminem or Arctic Monkeys on Friday night, or Cut Copy, Krewella, and Calvin Harris won the 100 people over that didn’t want to witness OutKast Saturday evening, or why Darkside and Chance the Rapper experienced heavy traffic in lieu of Kings or Skrillex for a proper finish to the weekend. These other paths saved the weekend from the general malaise that original lineup poster exuded back in April. They proved that Lollapalooza is not only a chance to see The Alternative or The Current, but an escape for everyone and anyone. That populist approach might not make for the most leisure-oriented weekend, but in the long run, it’s what keeps the majority happy and coming back. Scoff all you like — I have — but that makes the most sense for the business.
And that’s all Lollapalooza ever was in the first place. That’s all any festival is period.
Best Song About a Pet
Into It. Over It.’s Ode To Miles
Photo by Heather Kaplan
After seven years of playing as Into It. Over It., with the majority of those shows being in-house shows and tiny clubs, Chicago native Evan Weiss finally made it to Lollapalooza. “What’s up, Lollapalooza? I never thought I’d get to say this. This is awesome,” he said, beaming, as he and his band took the stage. From there, it was all relentlessly positive vibes from Weiss and co. as the band went through many cuts from 2013’s Intersections and 2011’s Proper. With sometimes ripping, oftentimes gorgeous and elaborate guitar work and Weiss’s astute and confessional lyricism, it was the most intimate and uplifting set imaginable for a 1:00 p.m. slot at the Grove stage.
One of the set’s best moments, one that captures why Weiss is such a beloved figure not only in Chicago but throughout the “emo” scene, came right before Intersections highlight “Spatial Exploration”. Weiss asked the audience if anyone was married. When a slew of hands rose, Weiss honed in on a couple in front: “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been married?” When they responded, Weiss couldn’t help but exclaim, “Fuckin’ a! Two years married. That’s great. Give it up.” That, combined with a song about his 30-pound “legendary cat” Miles (RIP), makes Weiss one of this year’s most endearing characters.
Most Charming Set
Photo by Heather Kaplan
When Australia’s Courtney Barnett performs, her straightforward show matches her no-pretenses, clever brand of indie rock. There was no gaudy backdrop with her name on it (nor will there ever be), just her, her bassist, and her drummer emphatically playing songs off her excellent The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, specifically highlights “Avant Gardner” and “History Eraser”.
With a successful U.S. TV debut on Fallon under her belt and now the surprisingly sizable 2:15 crowd at the Grove stage behind her, Barnett can only go up. While she won’t go for the gimmick, the marketing ploy, or the headline-grabbing behavior, Barnett’s razor-sharp narrative lyricism, and proclivity for punchy, ‘90s-imbued indie rock proves she’ll never need any of that.
Best Rain Dance
J. Roddy Walston & The Business
Photo by Jack Edinger
Day One of Lollapalooza started off with a young teen sitting outside Perry’s Tent crying her eyes out and a young man sitting against a tree so partied out that he was making himself vomit. And all by roughly 2:30 in the afternoon. The shit show was in full force early, but J. Roddy Walston & The Business were there to help. Walston was maniacally flying around the stage, arms raised, whoopin’ and hollerin’ like a Southern preacher, and about halfway through his set it seemed that “God” was listening. The old Lollapalooza tradition of a downpour started right as the band launched into the opening track of 2013’s Essential Tremors, “Heavy Bells”. Some ran for cover. Some stayed and loved the cooldown. Walston & The Business just played heavier and harder. They taunted the rain like Foo Fighters did at Lollapalooza in 2011. It washed away the tears and puke, and the crowd was ready to rise again.
Best Example of Life Imitating Art
Iggy Azalea Performs “Fancy”
Photo by Heather Kaplan
“Hot girl, hands off, don’t touch that/ Look at it I bet you wishing you could clutch that/ It’s just the way you like it, huh?/ You’re so good, he’s just wishing he could bite it, huh?” No truer words could have been uttered at Perry’s Stage on Friday afternoon as Iggy Azalea stomped around the stage, performing her Song of the Summer: “Fancy”. As expected, the scene was a clusterfuck of epic proportions as thousands of teenagers swarmed the stage, thirsty for booze, hungry for sex, and rabid for noise. “Feels so good getting what I want/ Yeah, keep on turning it up,” Iggy sang, providing a mantra for a sea of would-be extras for that forthcoming DTV Spring Breakers sequel.
As for the set itself, Iggy’s an exhilarating performer; “Work” and “Lady Patra” were rather athletic highlights that kept the ample demands low. It’s just unfortunate there’s little depth to any of this. At the end of the day, she’s parading around ostentatious pop that’s not so much a conversation on social perversity but more a ringleader. Richard Kelly’s Southland Tales, Mike Judge’s Idiocracy, and Bill Hicks’ Coke commercial bit all came to mind throughout this set, nudging as lost purveyors of future truths that are only starting to scream at us from the stage today.
Still, not everyone’s a believer. Shortly after, one bloated festivalgoer chortled, “All that for one song?!” To quote Iggy herself: “You can hate it or love it.”