Music festivals, for what it’s worth, are as much about music as they are about the experience, which largely explains their draw over regular summer touring schedules. It’s also one of the main reasons I found myself at Urbana-Champaign’s Pygmalion Music Festival amidst an awesome lineup of bands composed heavily of artists that I had no clue about. Even the ones I purportedly went there to see, and claim to be a fan of, I know little about: I’ve seen Dan Deacon four times now, but still have only heard one of his records. I’ve seen Headlights four times too, but only own their most recent release. So, to be unleashed on this unfamiliar wilderness of a Big Ten college town amidst a mass of musicians was simply disorienting.
----
{Thursday}
My friend and I were surprised and excited to find official Pygmalion tote bags waiting for us with our wristbands. Free goodies! Festival t-shirts! Complimentary issues of Paste! Free earplugs! Unfortunately, there was no real orientation guide for us, and we got lost looking for the first venue. We finally arrived halfway through Pontiak’s set; we were blown away by the level of musicianship displayed by this trio of brothers (all of whom resemble Will Oldham to some degree). Their riff-heavy indie stoner jams are likely to please fans of Black Sabbath and Animal Collective alike, and their continued alliance with Arbouretum is no surprise.
Pontiak was the first great revelation of the weekend, but unfortunately things went downhill from there. We saw Evangelicals stone-sober in the lobby of the University art museum, which was just plain weird. The normally effusive creators of this year’s sublime The Evening Descends were lacking in both energy and stage presence. They ran through that record like it was a hits compilation, with “Paperback Suicide” and “Midnight Vignette” sounding particularly good but overall flat.
We mistakenly missed the opportunity to see Murder By Death in lieu of the allure of beer at the Canopy Club. We ravenously attacked the $2 High Life specials (thank you, corporate sponsorship!) and then witnessed the rock ‘n’ roll swindle that is Monotonix – a really great guitar player, a shit-ton of stupid antics, and little-to-no substance. I’ve seen them twice now, and I never want or need to see them again. This must have been the evening of Spectacle.
The awful taste in my mouth left by Monotonix gave way to the blissful noise of Dark Meat. Taking the stage with something like 12 members, including 2 drummers, Dark Meat seemed to have the most fun of any band that night. They were also the loudest, just about destroying the already sub-standard sound at the Canopy Club, leaving us to revel in their wall of sound. Even if the intricacies of their sound were indiscernible, they were a blast two witness live.
The evening closed with the aforementioned Dan Deacon Fiasco. With the sound all but gone, Deacon’s music was reduced to static and a modest beat, while a host of hipsters danced to nothing. Inviting the audience onto the stage caused it to collapse. Still, the party persisted in the audience, at least until some fan got kicked in the face by a crowd-surfer and the plug on the night was pulled. It would have been unfortunate under normal conditions, except that I couldn’t help but feel that we had been spared actually having to wait through Deacon’s entire performance. It was pitiful and unfortunate, showing that a Dan Deacon show can’t be a perfect party every night.
----
{Friday }
With Thursday night marking the low-point of the festival, we turned to a long night of music Friday to set things right. We started off with our friends The Lonelyhearts, a duo who write lengthy narrative songs on the sparse landscape of 12-string guitar and a lone synthesizer. Their new record, Disaster Footage at Night, is one of the year’s unheralded gems, so I was among the privileged few who got to see them at their last live show of 2008. We then caught Owen at the aforementioned art museum, whose one-man confessional act was far more appropriate for the museum, balancing his acrid, stinging lyrics with an ability to make his acoustic guitar fill the room. The lineage from American Football is present and visible, and he was one of the surprise highlights of the festival.
We stuck around for Santa, the band who so graciously hosted us for the weekend, and enjoyed their manic yet pleasing indie pop. Clearly bringing out heads with their considerable undergrad following, the energy in the art museum was palpable. We booked it back to the Canopy after their performance and were delightfully greeted by the next big revelation: Titus Andronicus. Their triple-barreled guitar assault recalled the power-pop of The Thermals born out of the swamps of New Jersey. This band is seriously tremendous live. Black Mountain was next. They sounded great, but they've made little impact on my life, even after seeing their live show -- the perpetual “not my thing” band. We stumbled out into the night with the mash-ups of the Hood Internet playing behind us, more interested in carousing with bands in the downstairs VIP area than joining the crowd they attracted.
----
{Saturday}
This final day of the festival presented the Yo La Tengo quandary; is it essential to go see them just because they are a legendary indie rock band? Turns out it was and it wasn’t. They played in the massive Krannert Center for Performing Arts, worlds away from the beer and atmosphere of the Canopy Club. Twenty-five minutes of their set was all I needed, and I ducked out the back. Seeing indie rock in a concert hall like that is always a little weird. To their credit, they tore it up, but they felt so distant and, to some degree, scripted. There were clearly a ton of people who were very excited about the show, but I took my chances and bailed.
High Places provided an appropriate substitute. The band has been hyped like few others in 2008, but I must admit that the buzz is justified. Their tropical-influenced take on modest pop is infectious, and the drumming is mesmerizing. They were one of the only bands I could describe as danceable, which was a good break from a lot of loud noise.
The Canopy Club provided the grand finale of the weekend with the Polyvinyl Records showcase. The M's were uninspiring and drab, but Headlights and Asobi Seksu were so impressive that the weekend ended on an unexpected high note. The lack of critical attention for Headlights' 2008 album Some Racing, Some Stopping is confounding; meanwhile, their live show keeps getting better every time I see them. It's like witnessing the reunion of old friends, with all kinds of energy and smiles and good vibes. But what really counts is how good they make these songs sound live. The translation of "So Much For the Afternoon" from slow jam to full-on pop stomp is impressive.
Headlights were followed by Asobi Seksu, the final band of the weekend. I thought about skipping them, but I couldn't resist sticking around for one last performance. Luckily, they didn't disappoint. I had always thought of them as primarily steeped in shoegaze, but their indulgences in pure pop tendencies combined with their big sound (the Canopy finally got its sound right) was a delight, a perfect way to end the weekend.
Pygmalion 2008 was long, loud, and flawed. But like any good festival, I found some new bands to fawn over. Some aspects of the festival were unwieldy and inconvenient -- it's really spread out, and the lack of alcohol at some of the venues was unfortunate -- but in offering a small, local, and cutting-edge festival, Pygmalion succeeds on the whole. Although I didn't get to see everyone, and although I didn't like everyone I saw, it was a very successful weekend of live music. When I got home, I was ready to rest, which in this case was a good sign.