Austin City Limits, Day 3: Stars share the stage with 'a lot of bitches'
September 28, 2008, at Zilker Park
By Erik Adams
Published: September 29th, 2008 | 5:55pm
The 2008 Austin City Limits Music Festival got underway on September 26, in all its dusty, sunny, noisy glory. Venus Zine writer Erik Adams and photographer Eric Uhlir were at Austin’s Zilker Park for all three days of the festival, and this is the last installment of their observations, thoughts, and shots from the fest.
1:50 a.m.: Somewhere on the outskirts of Austin, the Kills’ Alison “VV” Mosshart found a ride back into town via a friendly driver called Eric, or Erik or Eriq or some such spelling. It wasn’t me, and Venus Zine photographer Eric Uhlir didn’t mention picking up the woman from the Kills, but this is going to figure in later.
11:50 a.m.: A theoretical, based on no real knowledge: To play an 11:45 a.m. set at a large-scale music festival, you’ve got to load in around 10:30-11 a.m., which means you’ve got to leave the hotel by 9:30-10 a.m., which means you’ve got to wake up at 8-8:30 a.m., if you’ve even slept at all. Watching the members of Sybris pound away at the day’s first set on the AT&T Blue Room stage, I assumed they don’t often see those kinds of hours.
12:10 p.m.: After a particularly bracing number, frontwoman Angela Mullenhour exclaims, “Ah, now I’m awake.” Told you so.
12:24 p.m: Gah! Waiting for Nicole Atkins, I realized I forgot to see the M’s, a band that’s been hanging on the outside of my radar since their stellar 2005 LP Future Women. Oh well, as Nicole Atkins and the Sea reminded me, some sound better on record, so maybe it’s best that I keep those happy memories intact.
12:56 p.m.: For a band I initially dismissed as brainless, I was inordinately excited to see the Kills. As part of the sound check, a roadie triggered the programmed intro to “Sour Cherry” five or six times, my anticipation level rising with each teasing cowbell. That damn bell is one of my favorite sounds of 2008.
1:31 p.m.: The mix was a little muddy, but the big stomping beat came across just fine. But something was off about Mosshart. During “Tape Song,” her bandmate Jamie Hince slid around the stage in an awesome sidestep Moonwalk, Mosshart stalked the deep parts of the stage like an angry vampire, her face hidden by a fedora, her steps totally leaden.
1:50 p.m.: “Sorry guys, I don’t do sun.” OK, Mosshart, that cleared things up. Then she told the hitchhiking story, via a thank you to that mysterious Erick (or Erich?). Things became clearer. And whinier. Look, I get that the Kills are nocturnal rocknroll types. I know they played an aftershow on Saturday. Drink your water, go offstage to dunk your head in some ice, and then take it out on your guitar. Because if you’re going to live your rocknroll lifestyle, don’t spend your next performance complaining that it hurts to stand.
3:31 p.m.: And now for some enjoyable melodrama: Stars! Smiling Canadian faces, how we’ve missed thee. It was one of those sets where I can’t discern whether I loved it because I love Stars or because it was a really good set. Call it yupster make-out music, but the sweep of “Take Me to the Riot” should make you want to snog someone no matter your tax bracket or your ability to identify individual members of the Arts & Crafts family.
3:54 p.m.: “A lot of bitches on this stage today,” said Amy Millan, introducing “Bitches in Tokyo.” I laughed really loudly, thinking she was taking a dig at Mosshart. I stopped my jerk-cackling long enough to hear that she was just referring to the number of female artists scheduled for the day. Then I felt like more of a jerk. A set-closing “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” returned my spirits to their previous height.
4:28 p.m.: A quick switch to the AMD Stage, where Neko Case debuted several new songs and the sun lowered to an obnoxiously low level. Old material was on display as well, like chilling renditions of “Deep Red Bells” and “Margaret Vs. Pauline,” but, like Fleet Foxes before her, the massive stage wasn’t a proper fit for Case’s brand of grandeur.
5:30 p.m. (due to a dying cell phone, all times from here on out are approximate): In a weekend where the majority of artists sounded impeccably rehearsed, Okkervil River came off as a little amateur. And for the first few songs, it sounded like frontman Will Sheff was struggling to keep his overstuffed lyrics within meter. Maybe they were just excited to play a big show in their hometown, and that excitement spilled over into sloppiness.
6:25 p.m.: Mirroring last night’s blind stumble for choice spots for Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, the minutes leading up to the Raconteurs’ set is a scene of mass human stupidity. People tripping people, friends trying to squeeze in with friends, personal space violations of all kinds. All that just to see Jack White and Brendan Benson’s second-best band.
6:30 p.m.: Despite being a very proud Michigander, this was the first time I’d ever seen White perform live. Still, the only positives I can summon from the Raconteurs at ACL ’08 are “It was righteously loud” and “Patrick Keeler is a really good drummer.” Maybe I just want too much from the Raconteurs. More “Hold Up,” less “Rich Kid Blues.” On the latter song, Benson sounded like he was turning into Dennis DeYoung of Styx, though in his Panama hat, floral print shirt, and handlebar mustache, it would appear he’s actually turning into Jimmy Buffet, circa Son of a Son of a Sailor.
7:45 p.m.: C3, the organizers of ACL, granted Tegan and Sara a performance slot I like to refer to as the “BSS Slot,” so named for Broken Social Scene’s mind-blowing set at Lollapalooza 2006, which was cut down to 45 minutes to give headliner Red Hot Chili Peppers an extra 15 minutes to play — 15 minutes the Chili Peppers didn’t use anyway. The sisters Quin didn’t seem to mind, and were probably the friendliest act of the festival; almost every song was followed by a hurried “Thankyouverrehmush!” from Tegan. Being unfamiliar with anything past “Walking With a Ghost” and “Take You Anywhere,” I didn’t realize how sad most of Tegan and Sara’s songs are, in an “I love you so much but I don’t think I can ever tell you” sort of way. It’s the most direct music I’ve heard in a while.
8:00 p.m.: Quin and Quin are quite the comedy team as well. A sample, from Sara, on the twins’ premature births: “We were born without a sucking reflex. Do with that what you will.”
8:30 p.m.: On my way to the AT&T Stage for Foo Fighters, I overheard Kevin Fowler, the final act to play on the small Austin Ventures Stage, introduce his song “Beer, Bait & Ammo.” There are billions of miles between Fowler’s Texas and the Quins’ Canada.
8:35 p.m.: I think Foo Fighters went on early, because I could make out the rocknroll lightshow from across park while Tegan and Sara were still playing. By the time I made it to the other end of Zilker, it was as if I was treated to a special screening of Foo Fighters: The Movie. Having given up on the band after One by One, this didn’t upset me much.
More coverage:
Austin City Limits, Day 1: Jenny Lewis sweats it out
Austin City Limits, Day 2: Godmother of Soul Sharon Jones steals the show
Issue #35
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