Andrew Veeder on August 23rd, 2015

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Featuring: Kanye West, Bloc Party, Chet Faker, Purity Ring, Run the Jewels, Dinosaur Jr., Badbadnotgood, Alvvays, Broncho, Goldroom, METZ

As FYF Fest came to life for the second year in its new location at Exposition Park, questions about the kinks last year on Day 1 lingered, and whether this year’s fest would be plagued again with issues. (It was not!) With the 11th-hour cancellation of Frank Ocean for new headliner Kanye West, would FYF grew too big for its own good? (It did not!) And with the last-minute additions of Flying Lotus and Bonobo, would festival goers be in store for a few other surprises? (They were!)

||| Photos by Zane Roessell

||| Also: Saturday, Part I, by Molly Bergen

Here is the Saturday diary of a long-legged live music lover with an ambitious agenda:

3:20 p.m. — The line for the north entrance is packed but appears to be moving. Good start. And there’s PETA, set up along Vermont Ave. with a booth and a sign, “See Life Through A Chicken’s Eyes,” offering a “free virtual reality experience.” Of a chicken being killed? Pass.

3:22 p.m. — A millennial male seated along the fence has taken his blank “I Heart” sign and written “your mother” beneath it. He points in my direction, and says, “You too.” Pass.

3:31 p.m. — Inside! That was quick and painless. It’d be more painless if security hadn’t confiscated my Ibuprofen, telling me that if I really need them, I can obtain some at the medic. I was allowed to keep my eye drops, but I had to use them in front of the guard to prove they weren’t drugs. Wow.

3:45 p.m. — The Woods looks and sounds like a twinkly daytime disco, but I go straight for the Trees, where Broncho delivers fast-paced post-punk with an awesome scuzzy bass loud in the mix as if to properly announce, Welcome to FYF.

4:01 p.m. — In the main stage beer garden, I remembered the greatest thing learned over four years of study at a well-renowned university. Pro tip: Run your forefinger along the side your nose, swirl it around the foamy head of your beer, and within 15 seconds, you no longer have foamy head.

4:09 p.m. — Alvvays have kicked things off on the main stage and it’s delightful. This cold beer in the cool shade with a nice breeze is perfect. They play a new song later in their set with a splash of synth that upped the ante, and everyone was feeling it in their shoulders.

4:45 p.m. — Fine, La Femme, I’ll immediately start snapping my fingers as soon as I near the Trees because your music is so damn catchy. Tiny swirling dance parties are popping up on the grass. To the lead singer: I don’t understand what you are saying, my dear, but your voice is as lovely as the rhythm section.

5:01 p.m. — At the general store, 2 Advil packs, Tic-Tacs, and Tums cost $15.

5:05 p.m. — At the Arena, nachos and a Bud Light cost $14.

5:14 p.m. — Origami Vinyl, I love you and I am yet again amazed that you box up and relocate your entire store to FYF every year.

5:15 p.m. — There are hundreds in a line that snaked around the Fig Pad perimeter of people waiting to get down to the Arena floor for Badbadnotgood. Pro tip: pretend you have a friend in line, and stare at the phone in your hand as politely as possible while merging, and cut your time in half.

5:26 p.m. — Badbadnotgood are ripping it up in front of a twinkling blue backdrop and vibrant light show as thousands of people rock out to them, nodding their heads along to whatever semblance of a beat they can discern from the chaotic jazz drumming. Nobody looks in sync, but in their own way, they’re all in sync. Tenor saxophonist Leland Whitty joins the threesome for “Confessions,” taking their complex sound to another level.

5:32 p.m. — If you don’t want to do drugs at FYF, just stand 5 feet from the fog machine in the Arena, and it’ll feel similar.

5:47 p.m. — The range of emotion people have while taking in jazz runs the spectrum from statuesque stillness to dance freakouts in place, from blank stares to animated enthusiasm. Badbadnotgood play a new song from a project they’re recording, possibly called “Four Shots,” and the girl in front of me start twerking. Twerking to jazz. It’s a brave new world. The Canadians close with “CS60,” as well as covers of Tyler, the Creator’s “Bastard” and Gucci Mane’s “Lemonade” in the punkest jazz set I’ve ever seen.

6:36 p.m. — Dinosaur Jr. is killing it, J Mascis is shredding his face off, and it feels like high school except the beer I’m drinking is cold. As the sun sets, Dinosaur Jr. cover The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven,” and it sure is. Just as I worry that I’m one of the old people at this festival, I turn to see a woman at least two decades older than me just rocking out, and in that moment, I shed fear and gain hope.

7:39 p.m. — It’s Run The Jewels time, and they start sprinting. The beat drops for “Oh My Darling Don’t Cry at the main stage and everyone loses their minds. Yes, Killer Mike, I will put my middle finger in the air at your behest. Is there a more fun rap show than RTJ?

8:01 p.m. — Zack De La Rocha runs onstage to spit his verse on “Close Your Eyes (And Count To Fuck)” and it’s glorious. Ten minutes later, Travis Barker joins El-P and Killer Mike for “All Due Respect,” and commences drumming his face off.

8:23 p.m. — Gangsta Boo struts out to spit her verse on “Love Again (Akinyele Back),” like a boss. Next thing you know, there’s an amazing call-and-response of the lyric, “I put my clit in his mouth all day.” You go, everybody, you do you.

9:04 p.m. — Chet Faker has his hood up, so you know things are about to get real. When he begins his cover of Blackstreet’s “No Diggity,” it stands out that this is where all the couples went to groove slowly in place.

9:20 p.m. — Savages continue proving they’re a force to be reckoned with, coming out of the gate with “City’s Full” and “Shut Up.” You can feel lead singer Jenny Beth’s intensity from a hundred feet away in the Trees, who then tells the crowd, “We’ll play the hits later,” and they tear into multiple new songs.

9:51 p.m. — Bloc Party begin with new song “Exes,” and then played all of the hits themselves, starting with “Hunting For Witches” and “Positive Tension.” Best nostalgic set of the day.

10:52 p.m. — I lost all of my friends and Kanye West is late.

10:53 p.m. — But there comes the beat for “No Church In The Wild.” It’s funny that while replacing Frank Ocean on the bill, Kanye begins with a Frank Ocean-guested song, and his prerecorded vocals boom across the main stage pavement. Now Kanye is on stage, walking around exploring the space as a cascading light rig hangs 10 feet above him. Everyone takes out their phone and obstructs the view of those behind them.

11:25 p.m. — “Stronger.” “Power.” “Black Skinhead.” “All Day.” “Can’t Tell Me Nothing.” “New Slaves.” “Blood On The Leaves.” Jesus! Or, as he would want it, Yeezus! The man can be an ass, but he is a hell of a performer with a hell of a discography.

11:48 p.m. — Looking around the beer garden at the Lawn before Purity Ring, there’s about 17 people total.

11:58 p.m. — I just saw a security guard at the beer garden exit use the same joke five times in a row. Someone would walk up to leave, he would hold a hand up and say, “I’m sorry, you can’t go out here,” the person would turn around confused, then the guard would laugh and wave them through.

12:10 a.m. — The crowd has descended. Purity Ring, you’re my sleeper favorite set of the day! Megan James’ voice sounds lovely as she flits around the stage, and Corin Roddick is drumming on what looks like glow-in-the-dark Q-tips. “Bodyache” and “Push Pull” are both so much fun live, and everyone is dancing with glee.

1:01 a.m. — “Simian Mobile Disco is playing for another hour,” a voice in my head says, before my feet perk up and yell, “We’re sore and we’re going home, are you coming or what?” Then my nose and stomach exclaim in unison, “Hey, we smell bacon-wrapped hot dogs!”