These huge music fests are much like my junk in biker shorts: hot, sweaty, sticky and crowded. It takes a great amount of stamina to endure the entire weekend and this is why, as I get older, these massive body odor fests are becoming less appealing. However, Lollapalooza has put together a KILLER line-up for 2012. The plethora of great acts is extremely enticing. With in the last couple of years our great website has done in depth write-ups for 21 of these bands. This content has come in the form of interviews, album reviews, concert reviews, and weekly features.
For this week’s Syffalist, I thought that it’d be a good idea to help out you, our beloved readers, by creating ‘Syffal’s Guide to Lollapalooza.’ Whether you are going to Lolla, on the fence, or deciding which day to purchase a ticket for; you should peep the info we have gathered below.
This is what you’ll find:
You are welcome. You can thank us by sharing the shit out of this because we also have an ulterior motive: grabbing the attention of Lollapalooza to make our press pass application look more appealing. Make sure you call tag (or whatever the Fuck you call it) “Lollapalooza” on you social media shares; we want to show Perry Farrell the size of our collective journalistic dick.
Editor's Note: Del suggested that you fuckers tell us who you are going to be checking and why in the comments section. So...get on it already.
*Pete’s must-see pick for the weekend
*Tom’s must-see pick for the weekend
She (lead singer Brittany Howard) was able to transform me into the person I hate at concerts: 'the wooer'. I couldn't control it; I had wooing turrets and I needed to punch myself. A ‘you go girl’ might have even slipped out. What the Fuck was wrong with me?! – Tom Dozois from the Alabama Shakes 12/15/11 Concert Review in Chicago.
Tom’s Alabama Shakes EP Review.
*Del’s must-see pick for the weekend
Band of Skulls is so the shit. Their album Sweet Sour is so heavy and dripping with sass that it makes me pee blood and suspect my pets of plotting against me. – Tim Baker on Band of Skulls music video for Sweet Sour.
*Tim’s must-see pick for the weekend
Phosphene Dream is a god damn shit kicker of an album. Heavy in all the right ways, snatching the more ominous elements of psyche rock while maintaining a groove that makes you want to eat acid and dance naked with a young lass in a muddy field lit only by the headlights of your dad’s foreign car. – Tim Baker from his review of The Black Angel’s album Phosphene Dream.
The Black Keys as a band don't need to make an amazing album anymore, they've achieved that more than twice and from here on out everything can be considered extra leftover cake in the fridge as far as I'm concerned. It's not that I'm giving them leeway they don't need, it's that people seem to think that bands forget where they came from by making improvements. Bettering yourself does not make you a sell out, working with seasoned and amazing fucking producers does not make you a square, and no where in the code of rock and roll does it state that a band that starts with two beards can't lose at least once. - Joel Frieders from his review of The Black Keys’ album El Camino.
Ted’s Album Review of Brothers.
This song kills with its pulsing Justice in the club sound chorus. It matches Donald Glovers weird suburban celebrity rants perfectly. – Del LeFevre on the track Heartbeat from Track Marks Vol. 20
Doomtree brings energy. Doomtree brings hugs. Doomtree brings people who don't know each other into a room, packs them in like sardines (nuts to butts bro), makes them jump and scream and clap and high five each other. Doomtree impressed the fucking shit out of me. – Joel Frieders from the Doomtree 2/23/12 Concert Review in Chicago.
Essentially FIDLAR is the perfect band to throw on when you are drinking cheap liquor, in need of a burst of energy, or trimming the x-mas tree. It is 8 minutes of complete and total punk perfection. So throw it on, let it soak in, take off your shirt, and let’s see what we can do with this old piece of ply-wood I took from the neighbors shed (no, not code). - Tim Baker from his review of FIDLAR’S EP DIYDUI.
Two gals with wonderful harmonies talking about the shit that young girls talk about. But picture the young girls being girls who work at independent book stores in Wes Anderson movies and like Mazzy Star. - Tim Baker from his review of First Aid Kit’s album The Big Black and The Blue.
I’m not really sure where this band is going. If I had to guess I’d imagine it will turn into some kind of young adult contemporary thing, aimed at the 20-40 set, and they’ll play less and less interesting venues, and never show up at Lolla. As far as the band goes, Florence is the machine, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she turns into a solo act before too long. This is bound to be a very unhip outfit in the near future. Sooner or later in life, the things you love you lose. Wherever they end up, this show was top notch, and I’ll never get tired of people living up to expectations. – Brendan Ryan’s concert review (and incorrect prediction) of the Florence and the Machine show in Chicago.
Del’s Album Review of Ceremonials.
Frank Ocean has this fucking annoyingly keen ability to throw you off with hilarious, drug addled and sexually charged lyrics, and then bum rush yer brain with visions of situations you couldn't imagine yourself experiencing. The album is a mind-Fuck. All over the place in one respect, but a perfect introduction for me to a guy I know nothing about. – Joel Frieders from his review of Frank Ocean’s album nostalgia, ULTRA.
The constructions of their songs are unique because they are incredibly creative with their transitions. These tracks are not only songs, they are journeys, taking you on 3 or 4 unexpected detours before you get back on to the guided route. Think Paranoid Android, but shorter and a lot less depressing. Ritalin addicts could sail through the entire album without even thinking about their next fix. – Tom Dozois from his review of GIVERS’ album In Light.
The marriage between Marti Sarbit's voice and Rusty Matyas' compositions completely kicks every one else out of the deep end and gets shit popping with gigantic cannonball after gigantic cannonball. Epic and large there isn't a misstep along the way. - Tim Baker from his review of Imaginary Cities’ album Temporary Resident.
We Are The Champions is just under thirty-five minutes of some of the most ass kicking stoner/sludge this side of the 1970s. It is as if the guitar sound of Keith Morris era Black Flag had a one night stand with ZZ Top and shared the stank on his fingers with Billy Squier before the whole Rock Me Tonight video debacle. - Tim Baker from his review of Jeff the Brotherhood’s album We Are The Champions.
The songs have great chord progressions, melodies and contain that unmistakable Justice bass synth. They keep a good beat and don’t lose me with unnecessary repetition. The songs on their own are good, but you’ll also get a couple of great ones like On’n’On, Civilization, and my favorite; Newlands. - Tom Dozois from his review of Justice’s album Audio, Video, Disco.
Hurry Up, We're Dreaming! is a masterpiece of uber epicness. When I was finally able to block 10 hours from my schedule and listen to this album in it's entirety I laughed, I cried, I wet myself, and then I cried some more. - Tom Dozois from his review of M83’s album Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming!
Del’s concert review of Active Child and M83 at The Music Box, Hollywood, CA. 11/09/11.
*Brendan’s must-see pick for the weekend
*Brandon’s must-see pick for the weekend
(Lead Singer) Haines is, in a lot of ways, one of the only interesting women that rock has left. Unlike all these milquetoast, karaoke-contest winners that are making popular music, she doesn't really flex a lot of raw talent. She's elusive and unannounced, but is affiliated with some of the coolest people currently doing indie rock. As a result, everyone is madly in love with her. - Brendan Ryan from his Laugh What I Love feature on Metric.
This is some delicious pop and I am thoroughly ashamed by how much I am digging it. The album is best described as Glasvegas sans accents, on paxil, taking surf rock lessons from Brian Wilson...by way of the Drums. - Del LeFevre from his review of Oberhofer’s album Time Capsules II.
Poliça is the electronically treated and layered female vocal version of Bon Iver, with unbelievable fucking dual-drumming, patchy stubble and it's fucking magically delicious. Peep my erection. – Joel Frieders from his review of Polica’s album Give You the Ghost.
*Joel’s must-see pick for the weekend
So it’s fitting that Jonsi (lead singer) takes whatever he feels and turns it into soaring, falsetto syllables that are vowel-heavy and just so fucking precious. What he’s doing on tracks is skipping the stupid lyrics, getting straight to the vibe, and it works. When you identify intensely with a song and there aren’t any lyrics, there’s something intangible at work. You’ve made a connection between a sound and an emotion, and that’s some high level abstract shit my friends. - Brendan Ryan from his Laugh What I Love feature on Sigur Rós.
Merrill Garbus, the one woman wrecking crew responsible for the musical happening that is tUnE-yArDs, appears to be possessed by some kind of supernatural rhythm phantom. On the surface, she looks like the nerdy, quasi-hip but kind of introverted girl you used to have fun bantering with in your honors English classes but didn’t consider a potential romantic partner because she didn’t care enough about her looks, as if you were any prize yourself. Who knew that beneath all the self-deprecation was a towering inferno of percussive fury? – Ted Singer from his review of tUnE-yArD’s album whokill.
Milk Famous, at least on the first few listens, feels disjointed, tedious even. There is just so much going on in the background that you get distracted by the brilliance that is taking place in the foreground. It took me about 5 or 6 listens before I got a handle on it, but once I did I was in heaven. White Rabbits make wonderfully intricate pop music in the vein of early Radiohead but minus all the self serious “I’m so sad” bullshit. - Tim Baker from his review of White Rabbit’s album Milk Famous.