FYF Fest 2016, Day 1: Tame Impala, Grimes and the 17,000-step plan

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Kendrick Lamar at FYF Fest (Photo by Zane Roessell)
Kendrick Lamar at FYF Fest (Photo by Zane Roessell)

There’s a few ways to experience a music festival, particularly one as chock-full with mega bands as this year’s FYF Fest. Some people relinquish control and float from stage to stage as the wind blows, some are strategic, timing everything maniacally in order to catch exactly 15 minutes of every band, others get so drunk before they even arrive that they’re falling on strangers and passed out by 5 p.m.

There was one guy — “that guy” — in shorts and a yellow tank top who could not stay on his feet anymore just a few songs into Jagwar Ma‘s set. He really wanted to cuddle up with a couple that had brought one of those hip new air-filled balloon loungers, but they were not having it. The Australian psychedelic dance-rock band delivered potent music, with Gabriel Winterfield’s shamanistic one-liners resounding over the Lawn stage with captivating effect, and our dear friend, whoever he was, lost total control of gravity.

||| Photos by Zane Roessell

||| Our Day 2 coverage

Peter Bjorn and John brought a large band from Sweden, which filled their songs to the brim, making “Young Folks” even more delightful over at the Trees Stage. Museum Of Love, the smooth house-inspired live band co-helmed by LCD Soundsystem drummer Pat Mahoney and DFA labelmate Dennis McNany, got things amped up early at The Club tent with all their cool toys. But, Vince Staples, wow, he was magnetic. The Long Beach rapper manned the Main Stage effortlessly, pacing in his Chucks, and his more politically fiery moments gave chills, perhaps because the stage itself somewhat resembled the shape of the White House shrouded in mourning. The beats driving his songs are built for a big sound system, with huge drops that made the grass shake beneath our feet. All the hip-hop featured at this year’s festival was top-notch.

Oakland’s Kamaiyah brought songs from her 1990’s-flavored debut mixtape, “A Good Night In The Ghetto,” to The Club stage. Her first hit, “How Does It Feel,” received excited whoops from the buzzing crowd. There were not many female-fronted acts at the festival (Come on, festival world, it should be easy to have a balanced lineup these days, considering how much great music is out there. How many more times does it need to be pointed out?), but the ones that were featured, really hit their sets out of the park. Grimes is from another planet, beyond Canada where she was “born.” Maybe she was played a constant stream of K Pop in the womb, then emerged with her own language that she translates to us humans. Some of us get it and others don’t, but it’s fun to watch. As a one-person band, she was triggering things, playing rhythms, gesticulating, bouncing between her keys and samplers like a wizard, and dancing between each moment. She had some technical issues, something with her in-ear monitors or click track, who knows, so she had to perform several of the songs blind/deaf and I got the sense that she is a perfectionist despite a presence that feels spontaneous, but she handled the situation and we would have been none the wiser had she not apologized for it. She also brought out Taiwanese rapper Aristophanes to perform a crazy rendition of the song, “Scream.” And scream they did, while writhing.

Over on the Lawn Stage, Todd Terje & the Olsens performed songs from the Norwegian producer/DJ’s first full-band album, “The Big Cover Up,” and much more, extending and contracting like a proper disco jam band. The sound for their set was perfect, loud and booming, and so it was, too, for Hot Chip‘s nostalgically satisfying set later on, but some unfortunate sound issues marred what would have been a levitation-worthy performance from Air. It sounded like we were listening through headphones that didn’t work, with frequencies missing. Why, oh why, no one could fix it, and perhaps the band didn’t even know, but the audience just pretended everything was OK. Offering a diversion from all the synth music bounty, Ty Segall had a powerhouse of a supergroup backing him as the Muggers, including Emmet Kelly of the Cairo Gang, King Tuff himself, and Mikal Cronin. Dressed like a detective from Miami Vice, Segall commanded the dark side with the playfulness of a kid who can have his cake and eat it too.

If Segall is king of the garage, Tame Impala proved themselves masters of the genre-blending universe. Incorporating elements of dance music with psych, rock and dream-pop like no one else, the Australian band delivered mind-melting perfection—”Elephant” was magical—and topped things off with a little visit from Lady Gaga. Apparently the reclusive Kevin Parker produced some upcoming music for her. Although it was difficult to leave that stage, trekking over to peep Sheer Mag was a worthy treat. The Philly band played the most straightforward rock of the whole festival. There is nothing wrong with making salad of all possible sounds, genres and instruments, but it’s nice to get down to some classic ’70s-inspired rock. When the formidable Christina Halladay sang “Jar of whiskey, Skinny Lizzy, that’s all I need,” it just felt good, like burning rubber.

Tossing back a $13 cup of ice with a splash of spicy margarita from the bar — oh lord, the festival drinks, and how they were poured, and the food prices were absurd — it was time to sit down and eat something yummy but horribly overpriced. While the $8 slice of plain cheese pizza was too insulting — the server even said, “I know, but it’s a festival price” like that made it reasonable — there were, indeed, some solid food trucks at the festival and I will not soon forget a delicious jerk chicken quesadilla dropping morsels into my mac and cheese while the lovely Kelela serenaded over my dinner at the Trees stage. After walking 14,326 steps (en route to about 17,000 for the day, according to the FitBit) around and around and around the Coliseum like a domestic animal in training, we ate on the grass, while the Los Angeles R&B singer owned the most romantic moment of the day.

Wolf Parade went on indefinite hiatus back in 2011, only to announce their mighty return at the start of 2016. Hearing favorites from “At Mount Zoomer” and “Apologies To The Queen Mary” felt good, like putting on your treasured hoodie from 2005 that you thought you’d lost forever and then found it in the back of the closet, and all the memories associated with that time come flooding back, and it’s great, even though you’re kind of old now. Anyway, that’s a digression.

While Explosions In The Sky masterfully ascended post-rock Mount Olympus late into the night, Kendrick Lamar brought actual fire to the Main Stage. With his band tucked off to the side, Lamar demonstrated his untouchable gift for verbal gymnastics, flipping his words around like a sharp-tongued acrobat as fireballs blasted behind him.