All Tomorrow’s Parties 2010: Iggy Pop opens up and bleeds and Sonic Youth rule beyond a shadow of a doubt

September 3-5, 2010, at Kutsher's Country Club in Monticello, New York

By Gabrielle Moss
Published: September 8th, 2010 | 12:03pm

Held for an entire weekend inside the delightfully decrepit Kutsher’s Country Club—the Catskills lodge that supposedly provided the inspiration for the 1987 movie Dirty Dancing but which, in its current state of disrepair, had more than one attendee comparing it to the set of The Shining—All Tomorrow’s Parties NYC was an experience somewhere in the middle of rock ‘n’ roll summer camp and Burning Man for people with indie music blogs.

Now in it’s third year in New York (after a decade of shows in England, Los Angeles, and elsewhere), ATP is a place where attendees can dance the night away (before all retire to their rooms onsite) to hip hop classics spun by DJ Kool Herc, or hear the Breeder’s Kelley Deal tearing it up on a karaoke version of Stevie Nicks’ “Leather and Lace.” But, of course, while the 2,000-plus attendees this year enjoyed the unique experience, they really came for the music, which—with almost 40 bands performing—they got in spades.

Friday night was ATP’s traditional “Don’t Look Back” evening—a night where bands are invited to play classic albums in their entirety. Australia’s ‘80s heroes, the Scientists opened—with their first-ever performance in the United States—and played their album Blood Red River, a work of scuzz-rock magic that had hardly been dulled by time.

Grunge joker-kings Mudhoney are in their second decade as a band (minus a hiatus or two), and nothing showed their progress better than the re-invention of their iconic 1988 debut, Superfuzz BigMuff, which they performed live by transforming the twelve quick gut punches of songs into tightly orchestrated grunge meets psychedelic rockers. From a phenomenal “In ‘N’ Out of Grace” that spun on the axis of a two-minute-plus drum solo and a blinding guitar jam from Steve Turner, to a transcendently sloppy “Hate the Police,” Mudhoney’s performance showed that these former alt-rock poster boys are more than aging gracefully.

The inspired evening of sleaze rock came to a peak with Iggy & the Stooges. Iggy Pop, who at 63, has more energy and vitality than most of us had as fifth graders, is quite simply a national treasure, and his off-the-charts performance of Raw Power stole the evening. As the Stooges opened with the title track, the entire front of the audience beat themselves into a frothing frenzy—one that didn’t settle until the set’s final note. A hyper and hypnotically sexy Iggy Pop sang with such passion, you could be forgiven for thinking these songs were written yesterday, and not almost 40 years ago. The band, which included Mike Watt on bass, kept up admirably with Pop’s vamping and hollering. After a vibrant encore of “Funhouse” and a turbo-charged take on “No Fun,” Pop crowd-surfed for several minutes, and then continued to writhe and shake it on the silent stage. It was a rare opportunity to see a performer who loved the crowd as much as the crowd loved him.

The second day of the festival saw Shellac play an engrossing, powerful set, anchored by a drawn-out, theatrical performance of “The End of Radio.” During the number, singer/ guitarist Steve Albini improvised about everything from sports announcers to Eddie Money, while drummer Todd Trainer took his snare drum off its kit and prowled the stage with it.

The Breeders played a thoroughly pleasant but unremarkable set, beginning with more recent material like Mountain Battles’ “We’re Gonna Rise,” before lowly easing into their back catalog with tight renditions of crowd-pleasers like “No Aloha” and “Cannonball.” The set ended with a moving version of Last Splash’s “Drivin’ on 9.”

The Books were accompanied by a slideshow that seemed to touch on their sources of inspiration, flashing images of everything from a symphony to rural shots of Africa. The duo played old favorites like “Take Time” from The Lemon of Pink, as well as new songs like the delicate, rambling “Free Translator” from their new album The Way Out.

Saturday night, however, belonged to Sonic Youth. Performing again as a four piece, Gordon, Moore, and co. blasted their way through a set of older favorites, forsaking any quieter material from the last decade or so. With minimum banter, the band did supernova takes on their greatest hits from the first half of their career, including a howling “Shaking Hell,” an energetic “Catholic Block,” a pulsating “Shadow of a Doubt” that turned the mosh pit into a quietly writhing animal, and a blistering “Death Valley 69” that found the band in top form, breaking out the earth-quaking guitar shredding that made them famous.

Sunday’s lineup was curated by filmmaker Jim Jarmusch—and of the 200 bands he originally considered having perform on this day, among those who made the cut were the Vivian Girls, Fucked Up, Raekwon, and GZA.

Fucked Up delivered a solid set of hardcore punk for indie rockers, as frontman Damian Abraham took breaks from fearsomely bellowing shout-along classics like “Crusades,” to tell self-deprecating stories about eating Count Chocula, which only further established him as the nicest guy in punk rock.

Vivian Girls charmed with their ghostly girl-group harmonizing and garage rock, which seemed to be growing more sophisticated on the several new numbers they debuted—like the unreleased “The Other Girls,” which sported tight, heavy, rapid-fire drumming and a wailing guitar solo outro.

Jarmusch made a specific point to include hip hop in this version of the festival, and by coincidence or planning, both hip hop spots at the festival were occupied by former Wu-Tang Clan members.

Raekwon was the first to take the stage, and unfortunately he disappointed by delivering a mediocre and low-energy set, which was most notable for its introduction from Ron Jeremy.

GZA closed out the festival at midnight with an intimate set on the smaller stage. It was the inverse of Raekwon as GZA’s set presented an artist at the peak of his powers, ruling and challenging the audience on tracks like “Duel of the Iron Mike” and “Shadowboxin’” with phenomenal flow and charisma. It was the right note for the festival to go out on. “Don’t make this easy for me, “ he told the crowd. “I get paid for this.”