Way Out West Festival: Warpaint + The Radio Dept. (Göteborg, Sweden; Aug. 11, 2011)

After ten hours on two planes and three hours on a bus, I’ve learned a universal truth: everywhere you go, the same jerks will be present to cut in line in front of the patient, queue-abiding patrons awaiting entry to something. One of the only complaints about Way Out West is that there is no guaranteed entry to the club events, no matter how expensive or exclusive one’s festival wristband may be. These activities occur outside the official festival gates, and take place in small venues peppered throughout the city of Göteborg. Club events begin the night before the festival grounds open, and continue until the wee hours of Sunday. One must choose wisely, as it’s only possible to attend one club performance, if any, per night. Lines snake around corners, brimming with eager patrons who guzzle beer and cider from tallboy cans as they await entry to a particular club. Disappointment is common, as capacities are limited at most places. Though the festival has released an app with real-time estimates of each club’s fullness, it can’t always be trusted.

Our choice tonight is Warpaint and the Radio Dept. at Trädgår´n, one of the larger venues. Two hours before the performance, the line already stretches more than a block from the entrance. The Radio Dept. is a Swedish band from Lund, and they are playing first. There’s a long, eerie intro featuring heavy smoke from fog machines. The singer has a sweet, welcoming voice. His vocal inflection goes up when he speaks or sings in English, but he primarily sticks to his native language. The sound is a bit tinny in the venue. Still, my initial opinion is favorable. The band doesn’t move much on stage, but the music is nice and relaxing. With two guitars and a drum machine, there are different sonic effects than those promised by the main festival. The second song is a crowd-pleaser and elicits many cheers, but it’s sung in Swedish so I’m a bit lost. They do thank us frequently, saying “tack, tack” (thank you, thank you) at every possible opportunity. As their set continues, the band’s dream pop tunes become a bit dull and monotonous, and the smoke filling the room makes the members difficult to see. Though my interest wanes, the mostly-local crowd still loves them. Their performance ends after about 30 minutes, and off they go.

A funny observation about attending concerts in Sweden: though the venue is jam-packed, everyone seems to allow one another a fair amount of personal space. Once people are securely inside, they return to the realm of politeness. No one crushes a neighbor’s toes or shoves into the empty space surrounding other patrons. No latecomers plow past those who have been waiting in place since the doors opened. This is a refreshing phenomenon, and is quite different from the scene that occurred while waiting in the queue.

Between bands, a remix of recent hip-hop songs blares over the P.A. system. Audience members disappear to check out a band performing in an adjacent room, and the area is temporarily deserted. The floor is layered with shards of broken beer bottles and wine glasses, as people have placed these items on the floor once their contents are spent. It’s hazardous, and also odd that the venue wouldn’t resort to plastic for an event like this. After a while, an employee begins hurriedly sweeping the dangerous floor coverings into a dust bin, protecting the crowd from potential harm.

Warpaint takes the stage, beginning with the hauntingly delicate “Billie Holiday.” The stage is awash in fog machines and blue light, somewhat overpowering the band members. They played a festival in neighboring Finland less than 12 hours ago, and are surely tired from the trip, so perhaps the smoke is meant to mask this fact.

The way these women sing together is simply intoxicating. Their voices are harmonious and complementary, and they are playing their hearts out to overcome the obvious exhaustion hovering above them. Warpaint’s delivery involves plenty of enthusiasm and high kicks, and their set is mercifully full-length – a rarity for a festival appearance. The members are acutely aware of one another, particularly on “Undertow.” Though they don’t move much beyond reserved shimmying, their entire performance is so tight it hardly matters. The drummer is exceptionally talented, and the rest of the band never gets out of step with her. Warpaint serves as a perfect introduction to Way Out West.

Once the bands are finished, the house lights do not come on. No bouncers shoo us rudely from the venue, and no one seems to leave. This is the beauty of attending a concert in Sweden. When the live performance ends, DJs take over, often playing until three or even five in the morning. As long as there are dancers, the records keep spinning. The night continues until the northern sun begins to rise over western Sweden, when crowd members stumble home to hostels, hotel rooms, and friends’ floors to sleep it off until the festival gates open at noon the next day.

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