MAGNET’s Maureen Coulter reports from the 2011 Outside Lands Music And Art Festival in Golden Gate Park.
With the third and final day of Outside Lands came the lousy Sunday-night feeling I used to get in college when I spent the entire weekend watching Entourage marathons with my roommates instead of studying for Monday morning’s bio exam. Two-thirds of the lineup had already packed their gear and headed out on their tour buses, and I hadn’t caught nearly as many acts I had intended to see. My first, panicked instinct was to cram. And cram I did.
Major Lazer, the electronic/hip-hop mind-meld of DJs/producers Diplo and Switch, gave a balls-to-the wall performance—literally, as the rapping frontman mounted the scaffolding mid-set. Major Lazer took full advantage of the keyed-up crowd by pulling its strings like a marionette: “Make some noise!” “Say yeah!” “Louder!” “Take off your shirts! Everybody take off your shirts!” That last one actually worked, as about 20 percent of the audience ripped off their tops and started waving them in the air like Terrible Towels at a Pittsburgh Steelers game. The group thumped, blipped and dropped, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Major Lazer continued to irritate the scowling, burly security guards: “Let’s get some girls up on this stage!” About 40 chicks in bras charged the platform and gyrated amongst themselves as the yellow-shirted staff loitered nearby for the right time to escort them off.
Dreamy Swedish synth-pop quartet Little Dragon, led by shiny, diminutive lead vocalist Yukimi Nagano, played a simmering, melodic show perfect for a Sunday afternoon. Nagano’s tinkling voice blended with the jingling and chiming of assorted percussion and often veered off into a hypnotic electronic swirl of bass and synthesizers. While simultaneously dancing and scribbling in my notebook, a guy next to me inquired about my odd choice of concert activity, which begat more conversation. Turns out, his brother and his friend played in Latina breakout star Ximena Sarinana’s band the day before at the festival (and on Jay Leno this week), and I wound up backstage after the Little Dragon set. I then followed them through the VIP section (where the media were banned from this year, natch) to watch the Decemberists at the Lands End stage.
Decked out in hide-leather shoes and hats and blazers fit for an afternoon jaunt at the Kentucky Derby, Colin Meloy and friends were the savory filling of Meloy’s described “John Fogerty and Arcade Fire sandwich.” The band members acted out many of the narrative lyrics in their epic, instrumentally diverse songs, including the finale “The Mariner’s Revenge.” They mandated that the crowd scream as if they were being devoured during the whale-swallowing line. Live video on two large screens bordering each side of the stage would often cut to guitarist Chris Funk’s facial expressions, The Office-style. He is the band’s resident John Krasinski/Jim Halpert. Whenever something would happen onstage, the video would cut to his reaction, which ranged from fake surprise to theatric indifference. While the rest of the players collapsed to the ground during the “death” scene, Funk meandered over to his cup of beer, took a swig, then dropped to the floor dramatically.
En route to see DeadMau5 across the park, I stopped to watch a combination drum line/marching band dressed like they were in the King of Hearts’ court and adorned with gold bells and red-and-black flair. Several men on stilts with faces painted like mimes were lurching around the group, which had attracted several dozen enthusiastic festival-goers. Maybe they’ll be onstage next year.
One thing I learned at Outside Lands was that the tanking economy has had little affect on the drug market. In the few minutes I spent waiting for the DJ/producer’s signature oversized mouse ears to appear silhouetted against the backdrop, about three people asked me for “dry goods.” I was sporting a sweater, glasses and a button-down shirt; I looked like a Sunday-school teacher, not an ecstasy peddler. So if these folks are willing to ask Sister Kathleen McDougle for a hit, the demand is obviously there. However, the rumbling bass and fluid house beats of Deadmau5 could be enjoyed regardless of your present state of mind.
The fact that Outside Lands was a near-sellout affair alone points to its wild success this year. But the beaming faces I encountered as we filtered out of the park were evidence that festival-goers already have 2012 on their minds. I know I do. And next time, I’ll make sure to study up.
