MeVersus MONOLITH 2009:

Saturday, September 12

sold out emergency ponchos

From the moment we walked onto the grounds of Red Rocks, it was obvious the weather would be the starring attraction for the day. Rather than the intermittent and quickly passing rainstorms that had been described to us by countless Denver natives, the rain remained a constant annoyance from minute one with few breaks from the incessant, spitting drizzle the rest of the day. The gray, hanging clouds robbed the famous surroundings of any color and the temperature was just low enough to affect anyone without a rain poncho – of which there were many.

The Answering Machine

Still, we didn’t fly out to Denver to bitch and moan and they don’t sell hater-aid at Red Rocks. For any newb to Red Rocks, it’s surprising to see how much they’ve built around the natural stage. The impressive guest center and additional stages complimented the festival proceedings well. We first caught the UK’s The Answering Machine at one of the indoor stages and left intrigued by their similarity to an American band, The Ramones.

Our first impression of the famous amphitheatre itself was OK Go at the main stage. They were able to get the crowd moving to their trademark anthem “Here It Goes Again,” but their formal dress stood in stark contrast to the dripping festival goers. Lead singer Damian Kulash admitted as much in saying, “It’s a little sissy ass of me to be under this tent,” after which he jumped from the stage to perform his next song in the rain as well (half jokingly describing a possibility of death by electrocution .)

At the top of the amphitheatre was The Walkmen on the Southern Comfort stage. Hamilton Leithauser’s amazingly sharp voice cut through the gray midday, reaching a crescendo with the churning drums and long wails of the song “The Rat.”  Still, they could muster little out of the crowd, whose initial festival enthusiasm was visibly blunted by the increasing rain and chill wind.

Back on the main stage, M. Ward’s eerie Western folk actually made for a great accompaniment with the day’s melancholy; finger picked twangs of his acoustic guitar sounding especially rich. Perhaps it’s only natural a Portland native could seem so at home in the soaked surroundings.

Doom

We ascended back up to catch Doom, which suffered from technical difficulties and was delayed into half his set. You could tell the audience had a short fuse: catcalls and yells began despite the emcee’s best efforts to please the waiting mob with off-the-cuff freestyles. The crowd noticeably began to thin soon after the show began. Doom himself didn’t help much, stomping around stage doing little to match the mindless bouncing posse around him. Though our noses were stuffed from the cold weather, the stink of predictable generic hip-hop antics still made it through. MeVs has strong suspicion that Doom was lip-syncing the rhymes as well, recalling a SXSW show that sounded nothing like this set.

Greg Gillis and company

Girl Talk then did his best to rally the masses, bringing his signature party atmosphere, toilet paper guns, balloons, confetti, and dance troupe to the amphitheatre stage. He did as good a job as can be expected under the worsening rain: standing next to the main speakers as my body vibrated like a Mexican jumping bean, it was easy to ignore the evening chill as we danced to his lighthearted mixes. Gillis managed to corral a rain soaked mob to sway with his mash-up masterpieces. One might say the drops of moisture added to the chaotic awesome, like confetti at a parade. Still, the Red Rocks stage did come with its drawbacks. Unlike aforementioned venues Lollapalooza and Sasquatch, the main stage had a gaping VIP and media area that created a visible and emotional division between the stage and the crowd, an uncharacteristic distinction for a Gregg Gillis performance.

Kevin Barnes of Of Montreal

The low point of the day came with the Of Montreal set back at the SoCo stage. MeVs was eagerly anticipating this set after being notably blown away by their shows at Norman, Sasquatch, and Houston’s Summer Music Fest. But this entry left much to be desired. Perhaps the stage was still suffering from the sound problems which had plagued Doom, but the music sounded surprisingly flat and droning, and even Kevin Barnes seemed listless. After the show, murmurs of,  “what the hell just happened?” lurked throughout the dissipating crowd.  It seemed the weather had claimed another victim. We hope to see a resurrection at Fun Fun Fun Fest.

Karen O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Alas, day one would find some redemption. Surprisingly, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were the antithesis of the day’s drawbacks.  Lead singer Karen O seemed hell bent on saving the day with her uninhibited dancing, soulful crooning, and dramatic poses,  re-injecting some electricity into the evening. An especially poignant moment came with recent popular track “Maps” – after she had quietly whispered the lines “They don’t love you like I love you,”  paused a moment, then ran forward to the crowd with an emphatic “I DO!” She could have been speaking about every other act at MONOLITH. There’s no doubt this was the premier act of Day One.

We ended the day grateful for warm showers and dry drying socks.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Kid vs. Wind - Kid ftw

After much needed rest and shelter (Thanks Cassie and Kyle!), MeVs recharged and fueled up in anticipation of the day’s events. Things were going to be much better for the festival’s second installment when seeing first clear sight of Red Rocks, rather than the uniform gray from the day before. Though clouds and intermittent sprinkles did threaten from time to time, the weather was far more agreeable and the sun even made a few bold appearances.  In turn, the festival not only drew more attendees that second day, but also began with a palpable sense of renewed energy in the air.

Cheeky vocals from lead Ami Shalev

And what better way to kick off the events than with our favorite Israeli garage band, The Monotonix. They brought their fist pumping, hair-ridden act to the same Southern Comfort stage that had taken so many casualties the day before. Lead singer Ami Shalev led the crowd through primal choruses of whoops when he wasn’t dousing them with nearby liquids or ass-cheek monologues, sprinkled with classic stints of crowd surfing and instrument tossing. Though, we suspect they were told to turn the crazy down a notch for MONOLITH: the show stopped oddly short and Shalev didn’t climb or launch himself from the stage rafters as he has done at every other opportunity. Still, the show was trademark chaos from start to finish and we left disheveled, sweaty, and bruised.

Due to MSTRKRFT canceling , some shows were reshuffled in the afternoon and the resulting confusion was only increased by the poor communication – a remarkable mistake for such a small festival ground. Still, we were able to catch a couple of groups bringing dance and electronic beats to the afternoon crowd: the trio The Glitch Mob on the main stage, and the French Horn Rebellion in the diminutive MadeLoud.com stage.

Red Man

This dance warm-up was followed fittingly with Method Man and Redman on the Main Stage, who were surprisingly entertaining in a scene not often associated with hip-hop prowess.  The duo incessantly jumped from one end of the stage to another, constantly evoking the crowd’s love of all things 90′s and Wu-Tang.  At one point, Method Man, dressed appropriately in Colorado Rockies merchandise, eagerly ran into the midst of the crowd with an unrestrained and infectious enthusiasm. It did seem as though their entire tour was a brilliant marketing act to reinvigorate viewers for 2001 Emmy award winning How High. I would’ve kindly left this conspiracy at that, until they unveiled their current efforts for upcoming blockbuster,  How High 2… Though it was obvious the group was relying upon cached star power from their glory days, they still managed to channel it into a riotous midday set. Word.

The early evening slot was filled with a pleasant surprise from rising stars Deer Tick, who played on the intimate Woxy.com indoor stage. Their mix of folk, country, and grunge definitely suited the cozy room.  Then a small taste of Passion Pit back at the Southern Comfort Stage, whose spirited electronic rock helped carry us over as we began to wait for a MeVs favorite, Chromeo.

Dave 1 of Chromeo

Coming out to flashing strobes and the wailing chants of “Chromeoooo…” P-Thugg and Dave 1 went through the full line of their greatest hits, taking time in between songs to talk of upcoming plans (Texas tour!!), give props to fans, and spit on the talk box from behind their instantly recognizable stiletto-heeled keyboards. Dave 1 mentioned the release of a song in the coming weeks from a yet-to-be-named new album in development. Finishing the set off with an encore of the tender “100%,” the two even stayed after to sign autographs and take photos with needy girls. As much as Karen O had done the previous night, Chromeo produced some true Bonafide Lovin’ for their devoted fans.

Still dazed and confused from the electricity of the Gangsta duo, we made our way over to see The Mars Volta and were treated to a taste of their high-energy mix of heavy metal, punk, and psychedelic rock. Singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s wailing ballads were an oddly serene send off as we got our final view from the Red Rocks amphitheatre, a shrouded downtown Denver glowing in the distance.

Happily dying Chromeo fan

And so ended MONOLITH 2009.  Those who were able to overcome the difficulties of weather visibly demonstrated what separates the average artist from a true performer.

It’s a shame Saturday was so affected by the gloomy conditions, but it’s simply a case of bad festival luck. If anything, a valuable lesson was learned: always pack that emergency rain poncho. Thanks Mom.

More pictures after the jump >>

What to pack:
Depending on the festival type, you’ll either be camping or heading home to a bed/couch each evening. In either case, you’ll want to pack light, yet comfortable. Most festivals being in the summer allow for t-shirts and shorts to dominate your festival wardrobe. I personally recommend some serious headgear. Hippies, cowboys and Jews all agree, covering your dome is crucial in that scorching heat.

Snacks. You’ll be traversing up and down amphitheater stairs till you’re content with watching Girl Talk on your back under a tree. The body needs fuel and those $8 gyros aren’t going to cut it. I’m a huge fan of the Nature Valley line of health bars. They’re everything you need and nothing you don’t. A couple fistful of these bad boys and you’ll be out-dancing even the most colorful hipsters at Thunderheist.

Shades. No point in being at the festival if you can’t see wtf is going on. Blu-Blockers, they’re hip.

Shoes. Skip the sandals people. A) Festival feet are gross. B) You’ll be walking at least a couple miles in the heat from 2-12 at night, not including the multiple dance parties you’ll be partaking in. C) Festival feet are really, really gross. If the hippie in you is dying to air out, just take those kicks off and waft around a bit. Ever try to walk 10 ft. with a busted flip-flop. Epic fail.

Homework. Festivals are the Barcardi 151′s of the music scene, best bang for your buck and you’ll have no recollection of what the hell happened come Monday morning. Hundreds of artists all packed in a couple of days for you weekend warriors looking to get loose. Do your homework. Load up your ipods, zunes, izunes, and zunepods with upcoming shows and give those artists at the bottom of the line-up page a listen. Their grueling 1pm afternoon set might be the show of the weekend.

Memory machines. Show off to all your friends Monday morning by updating your wickedly cool profile pictures. Whether you’re a pro photographer or just a top-seeded amateur, chances are if you had a good time, you won’t remember much. Forget the fancy gizmo-porn. Just take copious amounts of photos. Flickr doesn’t care if you use your iphone or a disposable camera (yes, they still make these), great shots are made from great opportunities. Think Monotonix.

Punctuality is key. Get a schedule. Print it out. Download it to your phone. Memorize it. Pneumonic device it. Whatever. No excuses. I’d hate for you to miss Deer Tick because you were too busy hover-squatting in the portapotty on the other side of the festival.

Now the trick it to stay focused the rest of the week at work. Fake excel window anyone?

The Montonix

Do not put hands near Ami Shalev

As we witnessed first hand at Sasquatch, The Monotonix are a hairy, sweaty punch to your musical solar plexus. Their latest U.S. release, Where Were You When It Happened, couldn’t be a more appropriate description of their music: heavy, droning rock chords and banging drums that verge on the simplistic, but that tap into the cave grunt dwelling within us all, manifested perfectly in their chaos-driven live shows. They don’t play venues – they are a venue unto themselves. Lead singer Ami Shalev uses anything around him as prop or launching pad as he rants incoherent Hebrew or English, with guitarist Yonatan Gat and drummer Haggai Fershtman constantly remaking what defines a stage. How they’ll transform the Red Rocks Amphitheater to their own circus is yet to be seen, but it will no doubt decide the age old battle of “Man v. Geology”.

I fear for the venue they’re playing on their Denton tour stop, Rubber Gloves. The thought of these wild men in an enclosed space both titillates and disturbs me. Dallas people, I implore you all – if you can’t catch them at Monolith, don’t miss them when they hit Denton!

Man sweat. Yelling. Fists. Mustaches. Tasty riffs. That is all.

The Mars Volta

The Mars Volta

I think no other band I’m aware of has been described as being “an acquired taste” more than these El Paso natives. The vast majority of first time experiences with the group result in confused stares or outright rejection, which (ashamedly) includes the reaction I first had upon hearing one of their more recognizable songs, “Inertiatic Esp”. I remember the feeling, “I like all of the influences here, but I’m not getting the sum of their parts”. Radio rock it ain’t: their thick, heady mixture of metal, psychedelic rock, punk, and Hispanic balladry takes time to dissect, but it’s well worth the wait. Once smitten, you’ll easily find yourself yearning for their renowned live performances, which naturally seem a better forum for their experimental sound and passionate lyrics. I imagine the crimson hues and cavernous setting of Red Rocks will add an especially dramatic edge to this set.

MSTRKRFT

MSTRKRFT

Next to my high anticipation for Chromeo, I’m eagerly awaiting the dance pit that MSTRKRFT is sure to generate. This bass laden electronic duo mashes other dance hits and hip hop into a mix that easily evokes Daft Punk’s “Robot Rock” or Justice’s anything. While Chromeo may have the upper hand in terms of lyricism and melody, I predict MSTRKRFT will be the show to turn MONOTLITH into a scene creepily reminiscent of Zion’s cave dance hall from The Matrix 2, with less suck.

Day One – Saturday, May 23th

Energy was riding high as the acts began and we started the days action by catching Portland’s own Blind Pilot. This big band, which actually fluctuates in size around the founding duo of Israel Nebeker and Ryan Dobrowski, brought a mix of strings and interwoven vocals to produce a bluegrassy sound both sorrowful and inspiring. We later spoke to them about their recent European tour with the Counting Crows and their famous tours of the West Coast done exclusively on bicycles (yes, including equipment). Keep an eye out for our longer interview posts to come shortly.

King Kahn and the Shrines then served up our first portion of dance grooves, hitting us with a funky vibe that seemed ripped from the Blues Brother’s Gospel. This feeling carried over easily to Devotchka’s set and their frenzied blend of accordion and gypsy rhythms, which baptized the mosh-pit area in its first layer of sweat. Next up were the thumping electronic beats of keyboard trio Animal Collective. If you’ve never heard of Animal Collective before, it’s understandable. Their obvious rejection to all musical trends, vibes and styles is what makes them so popular and conversely, so misunderstood. Their show, albiet incredible, doesn’t bring the heat when it comes to visual performances. Their blend of “freak folk” ends up bare when compared to contemporary psychedelic giants The Flaming Lips or Of Montreal. Being 2009, their lack of sensual stimulation and the short attention span of the general public can only lead to more drugs.

Next up was Ra Ra Riot on the festival’s smallest stage, bringing a driving beat set to violin and cello strings that was reminiscent of an upbeat Arcade Fire. This was soon mellowed out by the end of Sun Kil Moon’s set, whose guitar heavy, winding pieces sank easily into the late afternoon heat and set a perfect stage for the subsequent Mos Def appearance.

The masked Renaissance man came out and laid waste to the hip-hop haters with a set that mixed rap, reggae and rock, while effortlessly intermixing accepella breaks that dared your ears to keep pace. It may sound difficult to get goose bumps when its 82°F outside, but Mos Def calmly entered the stage like a king returning to his pride, fresh from a kill. His confidence rained on the crowd and soon even the haters were embarrassingly swaying their thick heads. If you’ve been lulled into a sense that he’s lost a beat since hitting Hollywood, think again – this show left everyone smiling as mischievously as Mos himself. At one point he demanded that everyone turn to look at the setting sun behind them, which painted The Gorge in dusty tones of yellow and brown; even Mos Def had to stop and appreciate the breathtaking beauty of the natural setting.

As night fell we moved over to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s at the main stage. Lead singer Karen O was in terrific form, alternating between rock wails and quiet whispers under the gaze of a glowing floating eyeball. The slow acoustic version of the song “Maps” was one of the most poignant moments of the entire festival, with Nick Zinner’s soft lyrics whispering through the darkened canyons. The scene was truly surreal.

Next the Kings of Leon took the stage for their highly anticipated set, which marked the end of their recent worldwide tour for the release of Only by the Night. I couldn’t help but compare this show with Bonnaroo 2007, where they played an early day set without stage effects or headline fanfare. The differences now couldn’t be starker: it’s easy to sense how they’ve blown up after seeing the smoke, lights, and crowd that filled the Gorge Amphitheater. But despite some cosmetic changes, KOL still retains the long-haired exuberance of their early days, and they did a great job of mixing old and new hits as a reminder to their audience. After getting the crowd to shout along to “This Sex is On Fire”, they cooled things down to the steady march of “Knocked Up”. It was a fitting punch to the opening round of performances.

There seemed to be a collective sigh from the festival as day one ended, a sense that everyone came out like a kid on the last day of school, only to be bludgeoned into submission by the bullying heat of summer. The camping crowds seemed quieter than they had on Friday night.

Day Two – Sunday, May 24th

We stopped by the media area in the morning to get some early work done but this was made difficult by the extremely danceable beats coming from Mad Rad on the stage next door. Their hard, garish raps were a good pick-me-up for the day ahead, like a cup of coffee with some fist stirred in.

Next came performances by John Vanderslice and Calexico, who played adeptly but lacked the original spark displayed by festival competitors. Seattle band Fences combined country guitar, mournful lyrics, and a steady snare drum tempo effectively, but lacked much-needed originality between songs.

This lull in performances was shattered by the St. Vincent set on Wookie Stage. We were blessed with a backstage view as Annie Clark proved why she’s one of the hottest rising female performers in music today. Her simple blend of rural guitar, pop rhythms, and sweet bird-like vocals struck a chord with the audience, who were equally delighted by her cheerful dialogue between songs. She really seemed at home in the summer sun.

The bar was only set higher as North Carolina’s The Avett Brothers put on a remarkable set on the Main Stage. The group’s mix of bluegrass, punk rock, and honky tonk doesn’t sound like it could come together, but their music is energetic and filled with resounding emotion. Their performance of the hit “Murder in the City” entranced the thousands watching from the grassy hillside and no doubt prompted a flood of calls to loved ones elsewhere.

The Dodos and The Submarines jammed out lighthearted group pop tunes, which set a nice juxtaposition to the deeper melodies of the TV On The Radio set. Their electro indie-rock reverberated off the surrounding rocks with the intensity you’d expect after hearing their studio records. Their hit “Wolf Like Me” drove the mosh pit to a dusty frenzy and seemed to inject renewed vigor at the festival’s midpoint.

Against the same setting-sun that blessed Mos Def, Of Montreal unleashed their eclectic brand of psychedelic pop rock on the packed Wookie Stage crowd. Although they repeated many of the same theatrics they used at the Norman Music Festival, the size and spirit of the audience brought the entire act to a new level. After the screaming and unrepentant bouncing that “The Party’s Crashing Me” created, the band fittingly ended their set with “A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger” enshrouded in confetti. Front man Kevin Barnes channeled the ravenous energy of the crowd as he smashed his guitar to pieces and brought proceedings to a close.

Jane’s Addiction ended the night on the Main Stage, amidst whispers of the most repeated question of the festival: “Why is Jane’s Addiction here?” The selection stuck out awkwardly amongst the lineup and for good reason: their early 90′s sounded extremely dated after a day filled with musical wizardry. I’ll credit them with bringing an admirable amount of energy and solid rock to their set, but you just have to look at the Kings of Leon set the night before to know Jane’s never had a chance. If the Sasquatch committee wants to go retro again next year, take a page from Coachella’s book and get Prince instead.

A quick stop by the Dance tent yielded some brief Tiesto-esk memories and some extra layers of grime from nearby dancers to take home to our camp. Score. Thanks.

If the crowd seemed subdued returning to their tents on Day One, they made up for it on Sunday night. The campground came alive with the sounds of music and laughter, and impromptu dance parties sprang up like desert wildflowers. Things didn’t die down ’til sunrise.

Day Three – Monday, May 25th

There’s always that lousy gut feeling on the last day of a festival, and this was no exception: you could almost see everyone mouthing “sh-eeit” as they trudged up to the main grounds for the last time.

Grizzly Bear on the Main Stage helped soothe our troubled hearts with their eerie, intermingled crooning, with their performance of “Knife” sounding especially sublime in the punishing sun. Santigold then flipped the switch and moved everyone to action with her blaring dance hall music, which soon turned the amphitheater into a pulsating crowd of arms and legs. I still have the image of her synchronized backup dance duo shimmying around the stage, accentuating every note perfectly with leg kicks and finger points.

Santigold’s sweaty set drove the tone for the afternoon, with successive bands only upping the energy level of their predecessors.

If Sasquatch organizers intended to combat the blues of the last day with some high-octane band choices, then my hat goes off to their selections. Following on the heels of Santigold was Gogol Bordello and his merry band of accordion and violin players. You can’t really tell what he’s ever saying, but as long as you shout “ra ra ra” you’ll be fine. His gypsy rock soon had the entire audience trouncing around like drunken pirates on shore leave.

But for all the wildness and stereotyped Eastern European accents that Bordello brought, even his act quaffed in comparison to The Monotonix. For days leading up to Sunday, we got recommendations from several sources (including guitarist Bryan Poole of Of Montreal) that we had to catch this Isreali rock band at all costs. And so, we missed out on an eagerly anticipated Fleet Foxes show to see if these guys really “took over a show” as we had been told.

These guys didn’t just take over the show, they literally walked on it. Watching these wild men is like watching hard rock evolve out of a mud puddle in real time, clawing forward as it oozes sweat, grease, and profanities.  Its ugly and profoundly hairy – think a bastard mix of Jack Black, Rat Fink, and Borat.

To the sound of monotonous primal guitar chords and infectious drum beats, they take audience participation to unforeseen, maddening heights. They play snare drums on top of people. They grab audience members, douse them in beer and take their shirts. I got spit on – and liked it. I have no idea how their “sound” converts to recorded albums, but as a live act it is truly unlike anything out there.

Go. See. The Monotonix. Just don’t wear clothes you like.

Following that kind of show is tough, but The Knux were up to the task. Their mix of heavy rock riffs with equally heavy hip-hop lyrics kept the tempo going and didn’t let the crowd catch its breath. The subsequent Girl Talk set took the chewed up audience and reduced it to a fine pulp. Greg Gillis brought his trademark knack for infecting the crowd with unrestrained rambunctiousness and turned the entire Wookie stage into his personal dance floor. His mixes continue to surprise as much they delight.  Fortunately, editor Glowjangles found his way to the stage and grabbed some sweet sweaty shots of Greg and company.

After dancing our hearts out to Girl Talk and with Chromeo in store, we made a veteran move and decided to take a rest before our life changing DJ set with Dave 1 and P-Thugg. We moved over to catch the Erykah Badu set on the Main Stage, and watched as she tried to out-gangsta Mos Def’s set from Day One. She did not disappoint. Opening her set with a poetic soliloquy explaining to her fans where she’s been the past few years, she effectively mixed over-the-top confidence with surprisingly revealing lyrics. Her eyes and mannerisms still retain that irresistible mystique, and she’s rounded her natural singing talents with some mean drum machine skills. Soaking in Erykah’s set felt like sipping on fine Scotch after a few hours of beer bongs and well shots.

Something happened in the Dance Tent that third and final night. Hazy memories and the folded, soaked fedora hat in my hand were the only clues as to what had transpired in that small tarp covered discotheque. As I exited my front row position, kicking empty plastic water bottles into imaginary piles, I vaguely remembered P-Thugg wearing a set of freshly ironed purple pajamas, and a side of smile served by musician/dj Dave 1 of Chromeo. To this day I can not fully explain the mob-like energy circulating the tent that night, but I can fully exclaim the grin (and grime) that wouldn’t come our off  faces till we passed out late that night. Thanks Chromeo. Thanks Sasquatch.

More pictures after the jump >>