Pitchfork Music Festival Entertainment Art Union Park Chicago, IL July 17-18-19 2009

I first met Thax in the early 90s when I managed the band Big’n and he lived upstairs from Phyllis’ Musical Inn. He was skinny and clean-shaven back then and I used to give him the occasional lift. We kept in touch over the years and I interviewed him when he released his first book of poetry, Tragic Faggot Syndrome.

I was a bit heavy-hearted when I entered the gates a few minutes before the first set of Pitchfork, day one. I grabbed a beer and made my way to the edge of the small crowd gathered at the Connector Stage. Chicago’s Tortoise assembled as the light rain began to fade. Multi-instrumentalist John Herndon stepped up to the microphone and made a dedication to a departed friend. It was beginning to look like the noise on the Internet might be true.

As part of this year’s “Write the Night: Set Lists by Request” promotion, Tortoise played a set of songs voted for by ticket holders. Alternately skronky and slinky, the band drew on elements of jazz, Krautrock and dub and performed a couple of signature tunes from 1996’s Millions Now Living Will Never Die. The epic “Djed” came off perfectly, right down to the recreation of the note scattering glitches from the original recording. A vibes-driven “Glass Museum” was hypnotic tick tock and a great choice for closing song.

Hoboken’s Yo La Tengo was up next on the Aluminum Stage. The veteran three-piece deviated from the “Write the Night…” plan by playing brand new material, including the rather 60’s flavored “Periodically Double Or Triple” (the band has a new album coming out September 8th on Matador). Set closer “Sugarcube,” however, was an obvious vote-getter (and a super sweet treat to boot).

The smell of diesel hung heavy in the air as Chicago noise machine The Jesus Lizard played the night’s penultimate set. The recently reunited four-piece hit the Connector Stage like a force of nature and legendary front man David Yow was a spitting, hula dancing, stage diving, man on a mission. The band blew through the classics “Puss,” “Glamorous” and “Mouth Breather,” easily stealing the night.

I wandered around and talked to friends about the “Thax death rumor” until headliners Built to Spill took the Aluminum Stage. I was too distracted to get into their set and split for the nearby Bottom Lounge. I spent the rest of the evening on the smoking porch with U.S. Maple’s Mark Shippy, who tried in vain to get Thax on the phone.

Day two started shortly after 1 PM at the Balance Stage with an artful, guitar-driven set by Chicago’s Disappears. Brian Case’s (90 Day Men, The Ponys) compelling vocals were a highlight as the group performed some songs that you can check out on the Website http://disappearsdisappears.blogspot.com.

I hung around Balance for Portland’s The Dutchess and the Duke, the core duo of Jesse Lortz (vocals and guitar) and Kimberly Morrison (guitar and vocals) augmented by another Pony (bassist Melissa Elias), as well as percussion, keys and strings. “Out of Time” and the somber “Scorpio” impressed a sizeable crowd.

I headed over to the record fair tent, picked up an advance copy of the debut 7” by The Part Five and caught a few minutes of Fucked Up’s set on the Aluminum Stage. Hirsute vocalist Pink Eye led the Canadian hardcore band from the photo pit and whipped the masses into frenzy. I shopped the Flatstock poster booths and listened to a bit of the melodic indie rock of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart as they held court on the Connector Stage. I ran into friends who said that the “Thax death thing” was nothing more than a hoax.

Four bucks for chips and hummus from Whole Foods seemed like a real bargain, and I filled my stomach while Final Fantasy (a.k.a. Owen Pallett) serenaded me and a few thousand others with a heady mix of vocals and violin. I ran into Miss Alex White, who gave me a gold Busy Beaver Button, while waiting in line to win prizes at the Threadless t-shirt booth.

I got up close for Yeasayer’s Connector Stage set and was impressed by the Brooklyn group’s amalgam of synth, psych and soul. School bell, tambourine and handclaps moved the crowd and, after a brief downpour, the future funk of “2080” was met with roars of approval.

Back at the Balance Stage, I found the shortest beer line and caught the tail-end of the Wavves set. Lead singer Nathan Williams didn’t seem to be on a cocktail of pills (his much-publicized downfall at a recent festival in Spain), although friends who saw the entire performance complained about the sound. I followed this same group of friends over to the Aluminum Stage where we sat on a Return of the Jedi bed sheet, Doom’s indie rap providing a soundtrack.

I didn’t step foot into the press tent all weekend (a rest stop in year’s past), but did wander over to WBEZ’s booth and was interviewed on a topic that I chose from a menu (“Have you ever been in a fight?”). Feeling warn down, I exited Union Park to the gypsy rock of Beirut.

For me, the final day of Pitchfork ’09 started at 4:30 PM. I walked into the fest to the middling pop punk of The Thermals and watched the tender hooligans of The Walkmen break from a slow gallop only for crowd favorite “The Rat.” I paid my respects to the guys from Yeasayer, who I met while wandering through the crowd. I ate some tasty pork tacos from Goose Island, bought a painting and played around for a few minutes in the Nintendo DS trailer. A friend confirmed a Thax Douglas sighting on the train the night before—HALLELUAH! HE IS ALIVE! I wondered if he would appear onstage to read a poem.

M83’s mix of French dream pop and techno at the Aluminum stage drew a large audience, but I was feeling restless and headed over to the Balance Stage for the stratospheric rock of Denmark’s Mew (missing Grizzly Bear’s much-anticipated set on the Connector Stage entirely).

As expected, fest headliners The Flaming Lips had the most elaborate stage show of the weekend. Bandleader Wayne Coyne surfed the crowd in a giant bubble and an endless rain of confetti fell from the sky. Yellow and orange balloons—five feet in diameter—bounced above the sea of bodies as Wayne’s GIANT HEAD was projected on a circular video screen. Costumed dancers shimmied in time with the weirdest band to ever call Oklahoma home.

Taking a cue from Friday’s “Write the Night: Set Lists by Request,” the Lips drew from audience votes and played some of their best-known material. “Race for the Prize,” “Fight Test” and call-to-arms “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots pt. 1” were all top form, while left-field radio hit “She Don’t Use Jelly” was transformed into a psychedelic sing-along. A set and fest-closing “Do You Realize” sent revelers out into the night. I hit the streets ready to celebrate the end of another Pitchfork Music Fest…and the continued existence of a certain local poet.

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