Things started off well for us. We abandoned our paying jobs to attend a presumed three-day Canadian Coachella. Unlike Coachella however, the town of Pemberton, B.C. lies 150 kilometers along a winding, one-lane mountain road in the somewhat secluded (but beautiful) Canadian wilderness. Thus, traffic was horrible. We gave ourselves two extra hours for border crossing and whatnot, but we still arrived an hour late for our interview with Chromeo (fear not! A forthcoming article on melophobe will still magically appear!). Despite the heavy traffic, which took some people upwards of 4 hours, the voyage to Pemberton was quite pleasant for the eyes, ears, and nose, and I would highly recommend checking out the Pemberton/Whistler/Blackcomb area on a non-festival weekend.
We arrived in a panic to reschedule our missed opportunity with Chromeo, which was exacerbated by the designated parking area (way too far from the festival) and the shuttle (way too long of a wait). The queue into the festival ground was negligible (perhaps because we arrived late?), but the lines to the separate tents, beer gardens, bathrooms and vendors were absolutely intolerable. On average, the Bacardi B tent sported a highly depressing one-and-a-half hour wait of very stoned, very bored, and sometimes very irritated festival-goers. Yes, yes… long lines are common at huge festivals, but most sets were only an hour long! So if your ‘bro’ runs up to you, screaming about how Maurice invited a live reggae band to play over top of him which, in turn, is making the crowd disrobe, shake, scream “Hallelujah!” and fall to the ground this very moment inside… you’re fucked! Without a media pass, you couldn’t get there in time. Hell… I don’t even think the VIP passes could jump the queue, I repeatedly saw them being turned away at the entrance gates (very rudely, I’ll add).
Which leads me to another often heard gripe: The VIP accommodations were crap. The VIP area for the main stage, while nice and shady, was literally (well, figuratively) about 200 kilometers away from the stage! The EQ was horrible, the view was sub-par, and it was more crowded than the general admission area or the “plebe bar.” On the second day, my friend noted, “If I hadn’t gotten these VIP passes for free, I would be pissed!” Well put. The media was treated about the same as the VIPs, with a couple extra benefits and head nods. Live Nation’s VIP and media treatment left much to be desired; Bacardi, on the other hand, gave us whatever the hell we asked for. Photo-ops, interviews, catered buffets, free drinks, and even sun screen… sun screen for fuck’s sake. It was a Canadian Shangri-La! Of course, they had their logo plastered all over everything and everyone (including me; I got a little hat), so of course they wanted us taking photos and writing about how wonderfully awesome their tent was and how reasonably priced a bottle of Bacardi actually is when compared to other top shelf variety rums that lack Bacardi’s subtle, yet refreshing after-taste. Yes, swag is the perfect way to secure an ass kissing review from a medium-sized, indie music on-line magazine. Self awareness is a bitch, but seriously… even without the bribes, that tent was by far the best experience of the entire festival for media, VIPs, and GAs alike. Did I mention it was frequented by the sultry and surprisingly personable girls of the Sweet Soul Burlesque? Well, it was.
WHY ARE YOU RAVING SO MUCH ABOUT THIS TENT, TIGHE?
Oh, I don’t know… maybe because I got to see Chromeo work a crowd into the ground using only the magic of electro-funk? Or maybe because I got to see Hebegebe fill the entire tent at 11am with merely his second track? NO, it had to be because of the 40-foot light tower controlled by Tony Pantages, Vello, and Electabelle (Eridol’s love children), which emitted a light show so epileptically stimulating that I am sure it depleted the majority of Western Canada’s power for the weekend. Yes, it was definitely the lights… or the indoor waterfalls. Take your pick! The Bacardi tent consistently had the most innovative ideas being expressed, both aural and visual, and had the best service and kindest staff. Further, the crowd was incredibly enthusiastic, supplying an interest and devotion unparalleled by any other area at the festival. There was non-stop dancing, ubiquitous next-to-nudity, and a sound system that would make any hipster declare, “GREATEST.PA.EVER!”
My favorite Bacardi Tent show was Chromeo, whose set and interview I had been anticipating for weeks. Their songs--throwbacks to the good old days of synth-pop and disco-funk--effortlessly flowed in and out of each other, hardly ever pausing for transition. The talkbox call backs by P-Thugg (Patrick Gamayel) were fortified by the crowd as they enthusiastically responded to all of Dave 1’s (David Macklovitch) fed lines. Talk about a crowd that knew what they were bearing witness to--these folks knew every verse, chorus, (intentionally) dropped beat and keyboard flair Chromeo threw at them!
Though difficult to top, at times the main stage did rival the stimulating and ingenious action of the B Stage. Nine Inch Nails, for one, put on one of the most gritty, industrial, light-oriented shows I have ever attended. But that’s Nine Inch Nails for you. Pemberton’s lights weren’t good enough, so they brought their own. NIN’s set progressed in the traditional four-piece rock way-- covering their 90s classics and working the crowd into a frenzy. At some point, the lights overwhelmed the group; when the lights died down, we discovered that the band had set up four synth/drum-pad-esque stations for a 20-30 minute wall-of-sound jam session. I would have liked to have been in the pit, but I am getting older and am unfamiliar with Canadian mosh pits; I didn’t feel like getting my ass kicked by a bunch of (seemingly) in shape industrial rockers. Next time…
And speaking of bands that upstaged the producers by bringing their own equipment, The Flaming Lips (as always) put on a wonderfully dramatic performance--this time with Teletubbies instead of Santa Clauses or aliens. I had seen the UFO show before--twice in fact--and can honestly say that a third viewing didn’t bore me one bit. The Lips’ songs are classic, but in a way that you don’t hate them for it. Yes, I have heard “Do You Realize” hundreds of times. But “hundreds of times” fall short of the thousands of times I have heard any given Tom Petty song.
Don’t get me wrong here; I like Tom Petty. I love his work, and respect him as a songwriter and musician; but I had very little interest in seeing him live. Lo and behold, when he finally came on, I left half way into “Last Dance with Mary Jane.” It was like listening to a Tom Petty studio album: perfect, with no deviation. He must be onto something though, because he drew the largest crowd I saw at Pemberton. At times, the crowd’s sing-a-longs drowned out the electrically powered voice of Petty himself. Kudos to Petty; I hope someday I will understand.
One downside to the outdoor main stages was that before it rained the ground was quite dry. With the large hordes of people, it made for some pretty dusty wind gusts. People survived by fashioning masks from scarves and bandanas--quite a sight for the Northwest.
Other noteworthy acts ran the gamut from MSTRKRFT, a Toronto-based electro group that drew a crowd comparable to Chromeo and spun an excellent set of super hip, Justice-style house music, to The Hairfarmers, a local Pemberton cover band that conducted a nice classic rock fiesta so enjoyable that the crowd demanded more. My Morning Jacket performed from their latest album with the sort of bland mediocrity I am coming to expect from them. It was depressing really; there was nothing about their performance that really stood out, and even now I can’t recollect what songs they played. Another act I adored was Tommie Sunshine, who spun an eclectic house mix while his “common law” wife go-go danced her ass off for the crowd. And oh, how the crowd responded! Hugs and kisses were given and received all the while Tommie pumped out the beats for a sweet and solid hour.
We tried our hardest to get there for Sunday (we missed it all), because I really wanted to see The Fiery Furnaces and Matisyahu. I had been dodging questions like, “Aren’t you just totally excited for Coldplay?!?” all weekend in the media tent, so I was excited to avoid that for a little while by hiding out in a crowd of fellow non Clear Channel listeners. We headed out from our condo in Whistler (a big thank you to my coworkers for their genuine hospitality, it would have been awful to sleep in that horrible tent city,) and about, ohhhhhhhh, 10 minutes on the road we stopped dead. Sunday’s traffic from Pemberton to Whistler was almost as bad as Thursday’s (from what we heard), when festival-goers were stranded at the Pemberton airport for six to eight hours, due to poorly planned transit.
All in all, Pemberton was a great time. For a first year festival, the producers did extremely well; most attendees were quite understanding, carrying on with the patience of those saint things my grandma is always going on about. If this were a State-side show (Canadians get irritated when we call ourselves Americans, I hear), these kind of snafus would have incited riots. Lucky for Live Nation, Canadians are crazy chill. I attribute this to $50 24-packs of beer, which they call flats for some reason, and the over-abundance of B.C. bud). They certainly took everything in stride. I only got yelled at once the entire weekend, and I am fairly certain my nemesis was from the US, based on his Dale Earnhardt commemorative t-shirt.
And now some words of advice. Live Nation, please, oh please, expand the camping area. That place looked like rape and pillage central. Talk from the crowd was that security in the camping area was rubbish, and theft was left to run rampant. Also, learn from Coachella, and let people park next to their campsites. That shuttle business made it impossible for people to do anything in a timely fashion. And please let more photographers do their thing. I know you are trying to control your image, but seriously. Only eighteen photo passes were given out, and there were hundreds of news outlets attending. Last, but not least, treat your VIPs better!
Note to US residents: switch your mobile wireless plan to a global plan, if you need to work in Canada. We learned the hard way with a $1,700 bill.
Ugh. Paste’s profile of Free Energy made me kind of hate them. So does your review. It’s this unctuous defense of good-time rock-and-roll ("we’re just here to party, and we’re awesome!") that seems more self-serving than fun-loving.
by beth on Wed Mar 17, 2010 at 09.41 pm from the entry: Foreign Born + Free Energy - The Knitting Factory (Brooklyn, NY; Mar. 12, 2010)
that inescapable feeling you are referring to, is that like when you hear something and you could have sworn you heard it before because of the nostalgic catchy quality? or is is like when you’ve heard a band exactly like said band?
great post by the way!
by paul on Wed Mar 17, 2010 at 03.15 pm from the entry: The Novel Ideas - "The Sky Is A Field" - Borrow It
Whoa! I had no idea she was enegaged. You would never know with the way she behaves! Wow!
by art on Wed Mar 17, 2010 at 09.48 am from the entry: Nikki Darlin and John McCauley: 1+1=1
This comment stream is so meta. Great review Kelly.
by chris on Tue Mar 16, 2010 at 07.50 pm from the entry: Flying Lotus - "Cosmogramma" - Buy It
no prob. The whole album is excellent, combining some of the harder sonics of Los Angeles with the meat of his debut and obviously difficult to summarize in only 50 words… 
I’d say it’s on par with the debut, but better than Los Angeles.
by kelly on Tue Mar 16, 2010 at 06.23 pm from the entry: Flying Lotus - "Cosmogramma" - Buy It
By the way, I really liked the mp3 posted. Thanks.
by Joshua H on Tue Mar 16, 2010 at 06.17 pm from the entry: Flying Lotus - "Cosmogramma" - Buy It
WHO WROTE THIS...PUKE ! “WHO WROTE THIS...PUKE ! “Picture yourself coasting your bike past space funk palm trees, homeless harpists, vintage video arcades, electronic drum circles, and 60s psychedelic singers who’re waiting for the bus. Cosmogramma is kinda like that if someone suddenly tripped you just as you’re starting to enjoy the ride. But in a good way.””
by Joshua H on Tue Mar 16, 2010 at 06.17 pm from the entry: Flying Lotus - "Cosmogramma" - Buy It
