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There is no possible way for me to recall my 3-day experience at the Pitchfork Festival without it becoming the worst college admissions essay to a music school ever, so instead I have decided to make a list of my yays and nays of the weekend’s festivities.
Yays
+ 312unes program and beer! Getting people excited about the different bands and things that Goose Island is going to do to help Chicago’s local music scene. Plus the free beer was pretty rad, and needless to mention, I was a bit drunktastic!
+ Amazing Chicago weather. We (as in the royal Chicago denizen ‘we’) lucked out. It was amazing weather the whole weekend.
+ Voxtrot. They were the first band of the Festival that I was excited about. I used to describe them as the Smiths meet Belle and Sebastian. But now, I’d say they sound like if Elton John and Morrissey had a bastard love child who looked painfully like Adrian Grenier in The Adventures of Sebastian Cole and knew how to party. Hmmm. Does that even make sense?
+ Battles. They definitely dominated with their sound and presence.
+ Of Montreal. I think they alone brought down the festival. Stephen Malkmus of Pavement fame was singing and strumming his heart out and people were turning their heads in anticipation for Of Montreal. At one point, some guy did a sound check and everyone bum rushed the second stage. Hah!
+ Girl Talk. He rocked the house. Or rather, rocked the limited amount of staging given to him. But it’s amazing what one person can do with non-licensed music. AMA-ZING!
+ The Flatstock poster show. ART ART ART ART! Beautiful Art! Need I say more?
+ De La Soul. They were the perfect group to the end the festival. They kept the momentum up and the crowd happy. As I walked to the Green Line stop, De La could still be heard, playing way past the 11:00 pm shut off. Good for you, De la!
Nays
- YOKO ONO!!! I have never seen a group of people flee faster by the sheer repulsion of sound ever in my life. Click HERE if you don’t believe me. But consider yourself warned.
- Pitchfork’s sound system. I wish it were LCD. Throughout the festival, one of the most recurring things you heard people say, (other than “man, I love 312 beer”) is that the sound sucked. You think they could have put some more money into their speakers and less into Yoko ‘crapula’ Ono.
- The third stage. Who the crunk thought it a good idea to put the third stage way in the back where there was no place to stand and AND to park Toyota’s shitty wannabe transformer car, the Scion, in the middle of it all? Good job, event planner…you fail.
- The disappearing port-a-potties. There were a lot of accessible waste management receptacles, but when they would pick the strangely located scattered ones, it left behind a pile of excrement for people to happen upon with their shoes or sandals. Not the greatest festival moment, speaking from personal experience.
- The lack of bands that, well, could rock out. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Cat Power, but she was a total snooze-fest! I was already tired as it was and her wispy, sorrowful vocals made me want to end it right there. New Pornographers were okay but didn’t really get the draw of the intoxicated crowd. The one band that did know how to rock was Mastodon and it was insanely annoying. No one needs to hear that much metal that loudly, ever. If so, an ice pick to the brain works just as well.
- Did I mention Yoko Ono?
- The long lines for everything! Want to eat something? Go stand in that line. Want to potty? That line there. Want an ATM? Oh that line laps the park thrice over. You want to leave? Welcome to the line ride for the CTA Green Line. ACK! It was like I couldn’t escape standing in lines for the life of me! Oh well.
But what made Pitchfork Festival particularly memorable for me was not only seeing Of Montreal but meeting them. Both Kevin Barnes and Dottie Alexander were wonderful and frankly I was too starstruck to say anything intelligent. So yeah, there were a lot of pluses and minuses but this three-day insanity was well worth it. Lollapalooza, I’m ready. I survived Pitchfork, I can tackle you with bells on. And of course my beer tickets!
Ted Harbert, president of E! and CEO of Comcast Entertainment Group, has decided to not only continue to be an insufferably horrible cable company but to give Snoop Dogg his own reality TV show. Harbert said Friday during E!’s portion of the Television Critics Association’s summer press tour that the rapper-producer-actor, his wife and his three kids will be the subject of an untitled half-hour series debuting in late 2007.
What!?!?! I have had it up to here with Snoop cameo-ing in on my favorite premium cable series (I’m looking at you Weeds and Entourage) but now he is hustling in on my reality TV! No, I say. Enough is enough! But I am sure the masses of teen and college-aged burn-outs will flock to this like the second coming of Latoya Jackson and it will be this huge phenomenal ratings hit and my 5 year old cousin will be forced to say “forshizzah” in her daily vernacular for the rest of her life. Again, no! Has Russell Simmons taught us nothing? Has his sufferings from being married to Kimora ‘trannysaurus’ Lee been for naught? Take back the night, my brothers, and do not let Snoop Dogg take over our airwaves.
Cameras will follow Snoop Dogg — aka Calvin Broadus Jr. — as he pursues his career, taking viewers into closed-door meetings and private recording sessions. They will also follow him in his roles as the founder of a youth football league and as dad to two sons and a daughter and husband to Shante.
Snoop Dogg’s involvement with community issues includes coaching 2,500 kids in the Snoop Youth Football League and orchestrating the Protect the West Conference, aimed at keeping the peace within the hip-hop community.
I’m not trying to be a hater but I call bullshit on Snoop Dogg’s philanthropic nature. Ok, fine. I am a hater. Sheesh. But don’t hate the hater, hate the blog. Or game. Or… you know what I mean! Hollaheezie!
Source - Reuters
Just so you know, Kelly Clarkson doesn’t do drugs, because she is a Texan, FROM TEXAS! Hold your gasps, it comes straight from the babe’s mouth. “I have never smoked anything in my life. I’ve never tried any drugs. I wouldn’t do anything that would cause holes in your brain or your nasal cavity. Call me Texan, but I don’t think of marijuana like that.” Well you know what? Marijuana doesn’t think about YOU like that, Miss Independent! 
But wait wait wait, when a Texan leaves its soil, apparently drugs are okay? When in Amsterdam, Kelly Clarkson partook in a (legal) local activity. She ate a marijuana cookie. “It was in Amsterdam,” Clarkson told USA Weekend magazine in a new interview. “It is legal there, and it is not legal here. I don’t ever do anything illegal here.” I’m so confused. So how does she feel about Marijuana? So if it was legal in the U.S. she would smoke pot? I may not be the smartest shed without a tool box… wait let me try that again. I may not be the sharpest box outside the shed. Ermm. Well whatever that stupid metaphor is, I think our dear friend Kelly Clarkson has a case of reefer madness.
I already kind of liked Kelly but now this makes me want to buy her album! Telling off Clive Davis, eating pot cookies, what’s next? …Clarkson for President! Here is hoping she judo chops Darth Cheney in the groin and teabags Dubya because BITCH HAS BALLS! Giggles. That’s cool. I wrote balls.
They want their feuding brothers shtick back. Sigh. Another moment where the vajay-jay is trying to ruin another perfectly good band. Oh vajay-jay, how I rue you.
Caleb Followill, of Kings of Leon, has openly criticized brother Nathan’s decision to marry his long-term groupiegirlfriend, implying that the woman (Oh shit, Kanye) is a gold-digger! But did he get a Pre-nup, WE WANT PRE-NUP!
“If he doesn’t get a pre-nuptial agreement, he’s an idiot,” fumed Caleb.
“Me and him have a lot invested in each other,” he continued to fume. “We started this band. We bought land and houses together. We’ve been best friends since we were little biddy boys. I don’t want him to make mistakes.” Did he just refer to himself as little biddy? Ugh. Oh-kay.
But Caleb’s concerns are more than just personal and financial - he is also certain that this here gold-digger will become a Yoko Ono.
“We have friends in bands who are married and their songs start being watered down because they’re all about the same girl.”
Nathan, brother and drummer extraordinaire, who gave Jessie Baylin his final rose on the Bachelor proposed over tea in New York, retorted - as any whooped decent man would -
“Look at Bono - he’s been married his whole career.”
Okay, looking and… ugh. Isn’t he married to the Edge? Do band members count?
“It’s different for me than it is for Caleb, I’m pushing thirty. It’s always hard when big brother starts devoting time to a girl that would normally be devoted to little brother.”
WTF! Am I the only one grossed out by how they refer to one another? Kings of Leon, musical greatness = social pariahs. WIERDOS!
Source - Drowned in Sound
If you don’t believe me ask Daisy Lowe, daughter of Bush’s front-man Gavin Rossdale. It’s hard to be original when rebelling when your Father for a living is the rock and roll lifestyle. Becoming a coke addict? Too expected. Various ugly tattoos? Too British. Celebrity sex tape? Gross Paris Hilton. So what was poor Daisy to do? Find out after the jump! Apparently NSFW! (Lame. Semi-nudity should be all types SAFE FOR WORK!)
They go and create the greatest travesty to music everywhere, a super group of super has-beens. Don’t believe me? Well check out SURESHOT.
Don’t call them a boy band, because they are all pussiesMan! Actually, I think they are the first ever proclaimed Man Band. …Err. Gross. Line-up includes: Chris Kirkpatrick (*NSYNC), Jeff Timmons (98 Degrees), Rich Cronin (LFO) and Bryan Abrams (Color Me Badd). The sheer atrocity… musical monstrosity… plain stupidity- ugh I do not know what compels people to become a televised train wreck but what the heck, I’ll watch. And point. And laugh. And sheepishly enjoy every moment of it. EEP!
Source - MyspaceTv
