Day 2, Sunday Aug. 15
Arriving on the fairgrounds on Sunday afternoon at around 1:45 PM, I decided to check out Mayer Hawthorne and The County, an act I knew absolutely nothing about. If Saturday had been all about favorites and familiars, Sunday would be, for me, all about the new and untried. While the festival organizers didn’t necessarily design it this way, Saturday’s lineup seemed to be more about guitar rock and psychedelia, while Sunday’s wonderfully eclectic lineup leaned more heavily towards the new, the hip and the Indie. And boy did the people come out for Sunday’s lineup. Already at that early hour, it was clear that the crowds were much denser than they had been the day before. And there was something else that was different about Sunday, that at first I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But then someone pointed to a strange glowing orange orb in the sky, which after a while finally someone recognized as the sun! The sun has been obscured by fog for so long this summer in San Francisco that it has almost been forgotten. But for all of Sunday, as if by divine intervention, there it was spreading it rays over the far Western reaches of Golden Gate Park – an almost unheard of meteorological phenomenon. All day the sun warmed the huge Sunday crowd and seemed to lend a happy glow to the proceedings, contributing to the smiles that were on everyone’s faces.
Like the sun’s rays, Mayer Hawthorne was warming up the crowd at the Sutro stage with his smooth brand of white-boy soul. Originally from Ann Arbor, MI, the LA-based producer, singer and songwriter was sporting a slick silver suit with black piping, skinny black tie and black Buddy Holly glasses, and laying it on thick with a sweet falsetto. The County is a studio-tight 4-piece backing band that included drums, bass, guitar and keys, and which for the most part, laid back and provided the solid foundation for Hawthorne’s smooth vocals. For most of his 40 minute set, Hawthorne stood at the edge of the stage, flirting with the crowd and singing soulful ballads that were reminiscent of 60’s and 70’s soul greats like Smokey Robinson and Curtis Mayfield.
After meeting up with some friends and grabbing a cold beer for the walk, I settled in up front for one of the bands I was most looking forward to seeing on Sunday, The Devil Makes Three. I’d seen them once before as openers and remember being impressed, but it had been a while and I had heard great things about their Thursday night gig at The Independent. A 3-piece unit from Santa Cruz, CA, The Devil Makes Three consists of guitarist/frontman Pete Bernhard, stand-up bassist Lucia Turino and guitarist/banjo player Cooper McBean. Reminiscent of an earlier generation of re-interpreters of American folk classics, such as Dave Van Ronk and Ramblin’ Jack Eliot, some of their songs sound like they could’ve been lifted straight out of the Anthology of American Folk Music. Others songs added a distinctly punky flavor to the mix, but all featured catchy, bounding rhythms and clever, memorable lyrics. These are songs about drinking whiskey, getting fall-down drunk and somehow staying one step ahead of the law. Some of my favorites from their set included “The Bullet,” “Tow,” and “Gracefully Facedown,” with the bearded and tattooed Cooper McBean (can that actually be his real name?) playing his gloriously beat-up Gibson hollow-body electric acoustic, then leaning in to lend his voice to a three-part harmony on the chorus, “You’ll find me downtown, gracefully facedown.” They finished with my personal favorite and the one that is still stuck in my head, “Do Wrong Right,” which advises would-be ne’er-do-wells, “If you’re going to do wrong buddy, do wrong right.” Guitarist/banjo player/ lead vocalist Pete Berhard has a great voice for the type of country blues they excel at and Lucia Turino is a force on stand-up bass, swaying to the rhythms she’s helping to lock down and adding a nicely textured upper register voice to their harmonies.
Walking away from the Twin Peaks stage at around 3:00 PM, feeling ready for trouble after DMT’s rollicking set, we headed back out West with no plans other than to wander the festival grounds until Al Green’s 4:00 PM set on the main stage. At this point the sun was out in full force and so were the crowds. But despite the large numbers of festival-goers, the lines for food and beverages were never too unmanageable, and we were able to sample a few tasty treats on our way back to the polo field. I had been hearing great things about the Korean tacos from Namu and they didn’t disappoint. They came one or two to the plate (one for $3 or two for $5) with two thin squares of nori (the seaweed used to wrap sushi rolls) topped with a healthy mound of rice, a spoonful of tender and flavorful chopped short rib, some spicy kimchee and a dollop of kimchee mayo. Next on the menu was a delicious veggie samosa from New Ganges, that I bathed in a wonderfully fiery combo of mango and cilantro chutney.
Later, I caught up with Allen Scott, vice president of Another Planet Entertainment, in the press area between sets and asked him how he thought things were going, and he told me, “We’re thrilled with how this year’s festival has turned out. In just three years, Outside Lands has grown into an iconic San Francisco event. From the exceptional and diverse musical offerings, to the local, yet world-renowned food and wine, Outside Lands is a celebration of San Francisco, the Bay Area and Northern California.”
After checking out the sights over the course of a slow stroll and relaxing for a bit in the press tent, I made my way down to side of the stage for Al Green. I had seen Al Green years ago at the Philly Blues Festival and remember him coming out resplendent in a pure white suit and handing out roses to the ladies in the front of the crowd. This time (after the obligatory warm-up measures from his backing band) The Reverend came out in a black and silver three-piece suit, holding a handful of red roses that were replenished every time he needed more to throw into the crowd. But after a few somewhat listless numbers (“Let’s Get Married,” “Stay With Me,” and a cover of Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman”) we decided to move on, in keeping with the theme for the day, to something more contemporary.
Over at the intimate Panhandle “solar” stage, Garage A Trois, was laying down some of the heaviest, most virtuosic music of the weekend. This all-instrumental quartet is made up of some of the greatest young jazz/crossover talent around, including the evil-genius Skerik on sax, Mike Dillon (equally insane) on Vibes, Stanton Moore of Galactic on drums, and Marco Benevento (the other half of the Benevento-Russo Duo) on organ and piano. Garage a Trois plays some of the most explosive, percussive, intricate acid-jazz-funk-rock you will ever hear, with Skerik’s squawking, wailing sax converging with and criss-crossing over Benevento and Dillon’s percussive organ and vibes. Stanton Moore can swing with anybody and playing with this lineup seems to bring out the beast in him, crashing and stomping but holding steady while all hell breaks loose around him. At one point, Skerik put down his sax and started playing a duet with Dillon on vibes. Never knew Skerik could play the vibes, but now I know. Next came a hypnotic duet between Dillon on vibes and Benevento on organ that featured a repetitive, circular progression that sounded almost computer-generated. These guys are mad scientists – and a whole hell of a lot of fun. After an intense 40 minute set that felt like it went by way too fast, we had to decide between Slightly Stoopid and Chromeo for our next act. I had heard Slightly Stoopid were fun — kind of a punkier version of SoCal skate-rockers Sublime — but based on the advice of a friend whose tastes I trust, I decided to hit Chromeo instead. I was glad I did.
Arriving at the side of the Twin Peaks stage at 5:10, five minutes before Chromeo was scheduled to hit the stage, I took note of their set-up – a semi-circle of synthesizers and electronic keyboards sitting atop pairs of white mannequin legs in red high heels – and knew immediately that we were in for something distinctly different. When Dave 1 and P-Thugg, two 20-something guys from Montreal, Canada, who look like representatives from opposite sides of the negotiating table at the Mideast peace talks hit the stage, my suspicions were confirmed. Dave 1 was dressed in a dark suit and tie and had a guitar slung around his neck, while P-Thugg stood behind the synth set in full fatigues (including hat), sporting a beard fit for a mullah. Promoting their upcoming album, Business Casual, which hits stores on September 14th, Chromeo got the crowd going immediately with their retro-sounding electronica/disco/funk mashups. Everything they sang went through either a voicebox, Auto-Tune, or both. While a drum machine kept the beats going, P-Thugg alternately scratched records and played funky figures on the keys, as Dave 1 sang and provided the occasional effects-laden guitar riff. After their second tune, by which point everybody was breaking out their best dance moves and grinning wildly, we were all glad to be in on the joke. “These guys are synthsational!” I said to one of my companions as Chromeo broke into another synth-heavy homage to the likes of Prince, Lipps Inc. and Rick James. Chromeo had a full-on dance party going on under bright sunny skies at the Twin Peaks stage as they funked and shimmied their way through “Needy Girl,” “You’re So Gangster,” and Chromeo’s take on a Dire Straits classic, “I Want My Chromeo”. Apparently it sounded like so much fun to those outside without tickets that during one of Chromeo’s biggest hits, “Night by Night,” a large section of fence was trampled in a gate-crashing rush and hundreds of freeloaders streamed into the crowd before order was restored by festival security and mounted police. Thankfully, this was the only major instance of gate-crashing at the festival and Chromeo played through it all, albeit with slightly bemused looks on their faces once they realized what was going on.
Still smiling from Chromeo’s funky and hilarious set, we made our way back down the central concourse towards the Lands End stage where we would set up for the final two acts there, Phoenix and Kings of Leon.
Phoenix was another act I had never seen but had heard great things about. Since putting out their first album 10 years ago, this Versailles, France-based band has steadily built a large and fervent international following, especially among the fairer sex, as was made clear by the throngs of screaming female fans. Vocalist Thomas Mars, bassist Deck d’Arcy, and guitarist Chris Mazzalai started as a garage band based out of Mars’ house in the suburbs of Paris, but with the addition of drummer Thomas Hedlund and Robin Coudert on keys, the band has grown into major draw in recent years, with many of their songs featured in movies, commercials and television shows. They are an alternative rock group at heart, but with a very approachable sound — “Alt-Arena” I would call it, or maybe just “Indie-Pop”. Somewhat reminiscent of Gomez, and with shades of U2, most of their songs feature a repetitive and danceable guitar and keyboard riff with an almost tribal drum beat providing the propulsion and with vocalist Thomas Mars’ emotive tenor calling and conversing over the top. Mars, their energetic lead singer and frontman, sporting a shag haircut and surveying the scene with his expressive and sympathetic eyes, waded into the wildly cheering crowd at one point and then crowd surfed, or rather crowd swam, his way back to the stage. Playing many instantly recognizable hits from their most recent album, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, such as, “1901,” and “Lisztomania,” Phoenix had the audience dancing and singing along from the outset and didn’t let up until their strong, hour-long set was done.
After a restorative 50 minute break in the action, during which it was decided amongst us that we were not going anywhere other than the nearby beer tent, the sun began to set and the stage was elaborately dressed for Sunday’s headliners, Kings of Leon. The band, consisting of brothers Caleb Followill, lead vocals/rhythm guitar, Jared Followill on bass, Matthew Followill on lead guitar and Nathan Followill on drums, came out portentously to the strains of Mozart’s Requiem, with sepia-toned images of the band-members projected on the screens behind. Kicking into their opener, “Closer,” lead guitarist Matthew Followill wasted no time in playing his sunburst Gibson semi-hollow body with his teeth while brother Caleb snarled the lyrics and played a hypnotic rhythm guitar. And so it went. Kings of Leon do not go in much for subtlety, but instead favor major drama, and the capacity crowd ate it up. As day turned to night, the full extent of their rock-star stage set came to light. Bathed in bright white backlighting and with a towering backdrop that looked like hundreds of speakers or spotlights, KOL played an hour and a half long set of anthemic, driving power rock — the highlight of which, for me, was their cover of the Pixies, “Where’s My Mind.” Maybe it was festival fatigue, or maybe it was just having so many great bands to compare them to, but I didn’t feel the need to stick around for their final note, and ended up leaving a few minutes early to the strains of their biggest FM radio hit, “Use Somebody.”
While there were many acts I was unable to catch this time around, due to the physical and temporal limitation of being in only one place at one time, I had a great time at this year’s Outside Lands. The musical highlights were many, but included the Sierra Leone Refugee Allstars, The Levon Helm Band, My Morning Jacket and Furthur on the first day and The Devil Makes Three, Garage a Trois, Chromeo and Phoenix on day two. I was bummed to have missed Dawes and Pretty Lights on Saturday and The Budos Band and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros on Sunday, but was happy about all the new music I saw instead. Another Planet and Superfly Presents/Starr Hill clearly took pains to make this a special and unique event, and it showed. Hopefully, Outside Lands will continue to put down roots in the far reaches of Golden Gate Park and fulfill its promise of becoming one of the City’s centerpiece cultural attractions, highlighting San Francisco’s status as a musical and culinary Mecca.
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