Coachella. Bonaroo. Firefly? The East Coast’s premiere music festival takes 30,000 steps in that direction. MAGNET’s Maureen Coulter reports from the festival.
Even the annoying drunk girls couldn’t ruin this party.
In its second year, the Firefly Festival at Dover International Speedway in Delaware this weekend proved capable of removing almost every inconvenience so that fans could focus on what was important: the music. Firefly’s well-oiled concert promoter, Red Frog Events, thought of everything. From the minute I entered the (free) parking lot, I was never confused about where to go or felt uncomfortable due to lack of open ladies’ rooms, sore feet or information about who was playing next. Their army of perky staff and volunteers toting programs and manning water stations, and shady oases like the Hammock Hangout that provided a nice reprieve from trekking around the grounds in the June sun, created a perfectly controlled festival environment where the result is pure fun. Even late at night when several attendees partied a little too hard, cops and paramedics whisked them away while the Red Hot Chili Peppers continued to bound around onstage in a flurry of tattoos and instruments as the blissfully ignorant crowd sang along with the lyrics of “Around The World” and “Can’t Stop.”.
Of course, every machine breaks down sometimes. Apparently those who were camping found themselves standing 500 deep for a shower and couldn’t get their iPhones charged at the charging station. And the lack of another headliner to siphon off attendees during the main acts made it feel a bit too much like I-95 in rush hour. But overall, not too bad for their sophomore campaign.
The grounds at Firefly were named after places you’d find yourself on a warm summer evening with family and friends—The Porch (complete with planter boxes full of fauna scattered around the perimeter), The Lawn, The Backyard—which summed up the overall hospitable vibe. Everyone I met was friendly. In my first two days at the festival, no less than eight people or groups struck up random conversations with me.
While I heard a few criticisms of the choice of headliners (Foster The People has one album), Firefly hit the mark with its second and third tier acts. Ellie Goulding, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, CHVRCHES—all are established or quickly rising artists who put on a great show, and you didn’t have to resort to watching the HD screen between the heads of sweaty, Kobe Bryant-sized festival-goers a quarter mile from the stage. And some of the less popular acts were the most fun.
Goulding is a blond pop star with an edge. Skrillex’s pixie girlfriend lit it up during her twilight set, battering a drum and gyrating onstage in a barely there shirt during her dance hits like “Anything Can Happen” and “Starry Eyed,” and wrapped it up with a dub version of “Lights,” exciting the fans familiar with her Bassnectar collaboration.
Even though Chuck D, Flava Flav and friends released the first Public Enemy album before half the crowd was even born, their knack for audience engagement whipped the masses into an excited call-and-response. Flav, sporting his signature oversized clock neck chain (shouldn’t it be an oversized iPhone these days?), was even more entertaining than his Celebrity Rehab days.
“Firefly Festival—it’s gonna set yo ass on fire!” he shouted at the crowd. He jumped down to ground level and gave high fives to fans hanging over the fence, and blew kisses at girls in the audience. Public Enemy’s bouncy, scratchy songs infused with “yos” and “like this and like that” made me nostalgic for early-’90s old-school rap. DJ Lloyd demonstrated his mad disc-scratching skills with a Nirvana mash-up, and Chuck D took the crowd by the shoulders and shook them with his Usain Bolt-quick rhyme slinging.
As I wandered around the festival grounds, I realized that perhaps the only amenity Firefly didn’t have was a gym. I got my workout at the Porch Stage during female-helmed Dragonette’s energetic set. The electro-dance group with throbbing bass and quick beats similar to Ladytron or Shiny Toy Guns got the glow sticks spinning.
At the Backyard Stage, Grizzly Bear was a bit more mellow. “I know we’re not a dance band, but we like when people pretend we are, so thank you,” said frontman Edward Droste when a fan got a section of the audience to clap simultaneously. Their sweet, forlorn psych rock floated through the warm air as evening fell and the festival lights began softly pulsing like—you guessed it—giant fireflies.
Friday headliner RHCP was predictably good. They played most of their hits, like “Otherside” and “Dani California,” and dressed up the interludes with expert jamming and solos by Chad (drums), Flea (bass) and John (guitar). Everyone at Firefly was crammed onto the field and singing along—you’ve been living in a Tibetan monastery for the last 25 years if you don’t know the words to “Under The Bridge.” Obviously, they will do a Rolling Stones and tour until they’re 95—Anthony and Flea are more cut than most 25-year-olds I know, and their youthful energy poured off the stage into the crowd.
On Saturday, as the early afternoon sun blazed and campers crawled out of their tents wearing the same glitter and sunscreen they had on the day before, up-and-coming bands took the four stages on the second day of Firefly. He’s My Brother, She’s My Sister, a folk-fusion group from LA, continues the trend of dual male/female lead singers popularized by Of Monsters And Men. Their songs used unconventional instruments, like the tap-dancing feet of another female band member, and played a set of upbeat songs that sounded bluesy at times, punk-ish at others.
Day two felt like the British Invasion. The new-wave Port Lucia, alt-rock A Silent Film and electro-rock CHVRCHES all addressed the crowd in across-the-pond accents. All three bands relied heavy on the bass and got festival-goers dancing even in the foreign heat. “It never gets like this where we’re from,” the pint-sized female CHVRCHES singer lamented.
Karen O’s rock-star chops were on full display when the Yeah Yeah Yeahs played their set as the sun dipped below the tree line. Decked in a red Elvis-meets-Lady Gaga rhinestone and fringe suit, she belted out songs like “Zero” and “Gold Lion” while swinging and thrusting her body around onstage and basically confirming her badass-ness.
A brief monsoon cooled things off in the early afternoon on Sunday, sending fans running for cover. It drizzled on and off as acts such as Robert DeLong impressed with his live one-man electro-dub-dance music production, followed by jam/reggae/rock Dispatch, whose audience seemed to know the words to every one of their songs. The weather cleared up in time for Passion Pit, the fast-rising alt-pop group who had to cancel its Firefly date in 2012. “This time last year, I was in the hospital. Now we’re here playing in front of you all. That’s (bleeping) amazing!” shouted lead singer Michael Angelakos. They played a good half hour of high-energy hits before Angelakos’s voice quickly devolved, and he relied on the crowd to sing the rest of “Sleepyhead” and “Little Secrets.” No one seemed to mind, and embraced the opportunity to scream louder.
By festival’s end, 60,000 people per day had stomped through the 87 acres of Dover International Speedway, taking in 77 acts and setting a high bar for next year. Judging by the turnout and the execution of this weekend, they’ll be the East Coast’s Bonaroo in no time.
