Pitchfork Day 1: First impressions
photo by Luis Antonio Perez.
by Jesse Menendez
Because I couldn't remember where this years Pitchfork Music Festival was being held, I decided to follow anyone who was riding a fixed gear bike, wearing an ironic beard, mustache, romper, feathers, shrunken obscure basketball jersey or privilege.
It worked. A mustachioed lad lead me right to the corner of Ashland and Lake. As I entered the pearly gates of P4K I was greeted by the aroma of patchouli and sarcasm.
This years lineup was so obscure that you could hear hipsters minds being blown. And unsurprisingly, those mini explosions sounded a lot like Teagan and Sara's debut album, Under Feet Like Ours. I mean; Anti bro-step, techno stalwart Andy Stott? Red State Horror Indie Rocker, Southern drawl crooner Daughn Gibson? R. Kelly? Yep. All of them. The layers of irony were so intricate and complex it was as if Christopher Nolan based Inception on it.
I'm not being sarcastic when I say I'm excited to be here and I can't wait to put up some reviews.