Fun Fun Fun Fest Day One

Mac Demarco - 3:15 Orange

In the two times I've watched Mac DeMarco, I've seen him cover Dave Brubeck, perform a full song with a girl twice his size on his shoulders, and make out with his guitar player (this last one may just be common Canadian courtesy.) All of which is to say, dude has charisma. Looking every bit a stoner extra from Empire Records, Mac kept things a bit more oriented on his songs this time around. And he's got some damn good ones too; "Ode to Viceroy," "Cooking Up Something Good," and "Freaking Out the Neighborhood" (which he announced as "Sheryl Crow's Pussy Lips.") Of course he didn't keep a straight face too long. The band closed with their trademark covers medley, this time butchering "Du Hast," "Message in a Bottle," "Sherry Baby," "Break Stuff" and a utterly filthy reworking of "Takin' Care of Business" in a blaze of garage rock frenzy. You get the feeling Mac should hosting some cracked talk show rather than working the tour circuit. For the time being though, bless him for bringing a bit of levity to the mid-day.

Patton Oswalt - 5:20 Yellow

It'll probably wear thin by the end of the Fest, but for now, comedians making fun of the crazy sound bleed-over from the nearby Orange Stage has made for some uniformly hilarious material.  And for a dude as brilliant off-the-cuff as Patton Oswalt, you knew he'd have a field day. He did bring material; good stuff too, mostly ranging on some favored subjects including depression, fatness, fatherhood and hookers. But that paled compared to his Nickelback-inflected duet with the background music, his skewering of hippie jam bands, and his eventual surprise to learn he'd been ripping on Kurt Vile, a favorite artist of his, the whole time. His hooker story was pretty good too.

Cut///Copy - 7:15 Orange

It's never good to start in a hole, particularly one as deep as the one the Orange Stage sound guy had dug for Cut///Copy. Buried completely by a tremulously booming kick and muddy bass, the first half of their set was the kind of thumping drone you'd blast at Somali pirates during a hostage crisis. Even the party ready crowd, at the ready with Bacardi-sponsored glow sticks in hand, was barely even shuffling. Finally, as the synths, guitars and voice were mixed up and out of the murk, the Aussie's started picking up steam.  And on a purely song-by-song level, there are few band's more perfectly suited for festivals than Cut///Copy. Eschewing their bland new record in favor of tried-and-true bangers fromIn Ghost Colors and Zonoscope, they had the crowd whipped into a respectable frenzy by the second half of the set. It wasn't as transcendent as it possibly could have been, but considering the sound adversity, it was a hell of a showing.

-JD Swerzenski 

Friday

The Tontons - Orange Stage - 12:30pm

Esperanza & Interpol

When it comes to this festival, ever since Friday was added on as a full day, it would seem there's been a giant effort to come correct with the early Orange Stage bands. Case in point-- The Tontons of Houston, Texas. The band, led by the radiant huckster vocalist Asli Omar, have a look and a sound as if one of Persia White's rock band ideas had actually panned out. They're like if Esperanza Spalding were to lead Interpol. The quartet is poppy and cool, a delight to listen to and immensely talented, but it's clear Omar as frontwoman is the real draw here. She has an outstanding voice and a huckster vibe. One could live in her between song banter, even more of a joy to revel in than the songs themselves, which can easily rattle in your head for a while. Once again, Fun Fun Fun Fest rewarded those who showed up early.

Beach Fossils - Orange Stage - 2:10pm

jingly jangly, easy breezy

If there was an ever more perfect backdrop to a brisk, November afternoon in South Texas, it would be the sound of about 85% of Beach Fossil's set. They played with a spryness one would expect from their easygoing most recent work, Clash the Truth. It was music so bouncy, dudes started moshing, the kind of moshing that could only devolve into a tickle fight (it was moshing at Orange Stage to Beach Fossils, it didn't last long). However, the closing song had a breakdown of dissonant insanity so start, it felt like Yoko Ono had just gotten to this band somewhere between songs without anyone noticing. Lead singer Dustin Payseur kept babbling into the microphone about how he was so happy to be here and how he was a [screw] up, but the crashing dissonance made me feel like I shouldn't believe him. There were a lot of mouths agape by this point, a moment totally worth the price of admission.

Mac DeMarco - Orange Stage - 3:10pm

a bluesy rock delight

Mac DeMarco

Everything about Mac DeMarco exudes ease, which is quite the task for the very talented 23-year-old Canadian. His introductions to songs are so simple and conversational with a dulcet baritone, like he's DJing The Quiet Storm. So much of his act epitomizes the bluesier roots of rock music that tend to be forgotten all too often in this age. This kind of energy flows through the whole set with an ease, not like every move is part of a precision timepiece but more like this is a group who can take everything as it comes and really do enjoy playing together. So much of this show was about having a good time and making sure the crowd didn't Austin it all up by taking themselves out of the moment by staring at their phones. Whether it be through a very wide ranging quoting of musical references that extend beyond this black jazz journalist's wheelhouse, witty banter and off-the-wall non sequiturs, or a rock star's wild stunts. When DeMarco left from the stage for a rather lengthy crowdsurf, it was hilarious to see the conflict the crowd had from the desire to hold up their phones to get a picture of this insanity and the very sudden need to put the phone down to catch the man heading one's way. This was a really fun show, DeMarco made sure of it.

Kurt Vile - Orange Stage - 5:20 (5:45)pm

slow motion

Everything about Kurt Vile's set felt a half step slower than the rest of the world, and it wasn't just the twenty minute late start time or the fog off illicit substances wafting through the air by this point of the festival's first day. Though it was hard to believe the songs from Vile's highly lauded album, Wakin on a Pretty Daze, could be any more chill, this band managed to pull it off. Vile and his group pulled out all the jam band stops and were as pleasant to listen to as on the album without retreading the exact same territory, for these long-haired craftsman are truly a jam band (much to the delight and chagrin of comedian Patton Oswalt who had to deal with the bleedover sound from Orange Stage over at the Yellow Stage tent across the way, the standups were not pleased with the bleedover this year at the repositioned Yellow Stage). There was a mad decent drum solo at some point, for crying out loud, a drum solo. Vile is 33, he's not some rock legend yet; this isn't Black Stage. Yet, there were numerous guitar changes and Vile had a Dylan-like mumble-wail approach to the microphone. These songs are just as great live as they are on the album, truly one of the best of the year. It was a set for those who love the best sort of noodling in the world.

RJD2 - Blue Stage - 8:45pm

The show's the thing...

It was entirely too easy to get up front at RJD2. Maybe it's the layout of Blue Stage or maybe it was the fact that watching the laser lights and fog of RJD2's set required being in the center of it all, as though this were an IMAX movie, that made being up front cool but still essentially watching a DJ. For the show's the thing wherein RJD2 proves he is the king. With a set that's a good mix of older material (his teasing of "A Beautiful Mine", the well-known theme song to Mad Men, was a great touch) and the equally dope new stuff from his latest release, More Is Than Isn't, it was very much a party to close out the first night of the festival.

Kyle Kinane - Yellow Stage/The New Movement - 4:50pm/1:00am

the man can work a thread

I had seen Kinane twice today, this was his second set as part of FFF Nights after performing earlier at  Yellow Stage, simultaneously irritated that he has to tell ornate stories with involved asides while yelling over the bleedover from Orange Stage across the way and irritated for entirely different reasons because he can clearly hear he's missing Johnny Marr. He was truly aghast and honored that the tent filled to overflowing to hear his set while missing a legend just a short walk away. However, Kinane's style of joketelling is amenable to asides like these-- long, rambling stories about neurosis about talking to cats or a wholely too friendly cop at a party or an improvised bit about set dressings where one kernel of an idea can go as far as it can and collapses across the finish line, arms in the air triumphantly. You could listen to the guy talk forever, certainly much longer than in twenty second voiceovers on Comedy Central commercials. 

-Anthony Dean-Harris 

Friday

Beach Fossils

    Starin at my shoes, I may have missed somethin?

Beach Fossils

Fun Fun Fun Fest had only just begun three hours before when Beach Fossils meandered on stage with Austin and a grey, uninteresting sky as their background. The twenty-somethings made a brief quip about fun and then wandered off into their shoegaze rock, playing songs from their new album “Clash the Truth”. Their show was a kaleidoscope of sound; atmospheric and mellow melodies were matched by driving, clothes-shaking bass that was intermingled with intense solos that quickly passed. The band was a good choice to feature in the opening hours of Fun Fun Fun Fest. Their crystal-clear sound showcased their obvious passion and sincerity that was increasingly evident as their set continued forward. Dustin Payseur made heavy use of a delay at the end up his set, saying “I love you”, “I wanna be your friend”, and “oh my god thank you” over and over and over again until the entire stage became awash and drenched in his vocals. We were submerged, drowning in their thoughts, their worries, and their fears; people in the audience began struggling, awkwardly giggling “I love you”, looking at each other “oh my god thank you”, looking at him “I wanna be you friend”, looking at their maps “I love you, oh god I love you”, looking back at him “oh my god thank you so much”, “thank you so much”, “so much”, “so so much”, “thank you so much”, “so much”,  “thank you so much”. And then it was done. Dustin rose from his knees to a crystal clear blue sky and a subdued applause.  They had touched something but nobody knew quite how to articulate it. That seemed to be their point, beseeching us the entire show to pay close attention to the music and each other because we’re all struggling painfully over the same stupid things.  In any case, Beach Fossils had finished their set and were packing up. They announced the next artist and left the stage - gone.

Thee Oh Sees

    yeah you broke your leg - No you go fuck yourself - what of it?

Thee Oh Sees

    I’ve often wondered what the people of Pompeii were thinking right before Vesuvius erupted. They had to know, in a primal sort of way, that shit was about to go down.  That they were about to suffocate and be buried by something that was both incomprehensible and indiscriminate. I’d be willing to bet my fairly meager savings that Thee Oh Sees feel this every god damn time they get on stage. The things John Dwyer did to his microphone made everybody’s panties drop, guys and girls. The dude ate and licked his microphone. He shoved it so far down his throat that the sound guy probably thought he was being fellated, hell I thought it. And damn did he sing. And damn did he tease. They brought everybody just to the point of no return and then just kinda stopped. You could feel everybody in the audience lean forward waiting for the next wave to break. Petey Dammit on the guitar was playing like a man possessed and I mean like “actual holy shit I’m seeing an exorci-, yep his neck is going to break” possessed. Mike Shoun is sitting between the two of them glaring at the audience like he’s just been told that yet another of his friends had died due to our mistakes.  This man can play the drums. While, John was fixing his guitar, he began the best drum solo I had ever seen live, playing for several minutes that served to pour gasoline on the houses that were adjacent to the one that was already on fire. And then there’s Brigid Dawson. She’s serenely standing in the background playing the tambourine and keyboard, just kinda smiling letting the music take her where it will. And did it take us places. I was originally standing in the back and then I found myself at the front of the stage moshing next to Mac DeMarco. Teenagers go up on stage have an epileptic fit and then crowd surf multiple times. John dedicated a song to a dude who screamed something so passionately unintelligible that it could not have been anything other than a declaration of love. The show was an inferno of screams, bodies, punk, and sweat. So much sweat. Thee Oh Sees force you to live life, they force you down and put a gun to your head, like that one scene in Fight Club, and make you question all of your insecurities until you just say fuck it and run in screaming and diving. After, it’s all said and done, you leave questioning both your actions and if the sweat on your body is actually yours. It leaves you wanting to do something incredibly stupid like getting a tattoo of your soon to be ex-girlfriend because damn you’re passionate about her at this moment and that’s all that matters. But most of all you end up thinking, “Holy shit, dem Oh Sees.”  

-Matt Peebles 

**All photos By Rebecca Reinhardt for Indie Overnight