Fun Fun Fun Fest Recap: Saturday, Pt 2

Parts & Labor by Patrick Dentler

Brooklyn’s Parts and Labor are like an intermingling contingency of progressive rock fans and grass roots indie, which might explain the surprising fluidity of electronic noise, madly tight drum chops with a more rock-structured approach to songwriting (meaning no art-rock dalliances, thankfully). From drummer Joe Wong’s frantic fills on “Fractured Skies” to Dan Friel’s madly bobbing red afro, the set was high-energy. We especially liked how Friel’s keyboards and pedals nicely filled the gap where most bands would just shove a second guitarist. The first political shout-out we heard this weekend came from lead singer and bassist B.J. Warshaw, who dedicated a song to Barack Obama and expressed gratitude that a particular “fucking Texan” will soon be out of the White House. Hey, we don’t hold Giuliani against you guys, do we? -Adam Schragin

Magnetic Morning

Magnetic Morning doesn't necessarily sound like a drummer's side-project, but live, all the energy seemed to run through Interpol's Sam Fogarino. He wasn't showy - behind the rest of the five piece on stage 2, you could barely see him - but when the first half of the set was hampered by feedback, Fogarino kept the group together. And with the notable help of keyboardist Jimmy LaValle, he provided a stout wall of sound for singer Adam Franklin, who's dry baritone was equally effective at delivering his lyrics and acting as another percussive element. The qualities of their music that recall across-the-pond bands like Doves are even more pronounced live. While their sound occasionally lapsed into the traditional plodding melancholia, the group's rhythm gave the songs an earnest and profound sheen. -Bryan Mochizuki

YACHT by Patrick Dentler

Acts without bands often come across stale live, like they're simply singing karaoke to their own albums. But even on the empty stage at Fun Fun Fun Fest, YACHT — Jona Bechtolt and recent addition Claire L. Evans — had enough spunk to create a full sound and keep the audience engaged. The minimal electronic pop set sounded similar to the music of the band's one-time tour mate LCD Soundsystem and former Bechtolt project The Blow, with pinches of squeaky-clean bass, 808 hand claps, cowbell and plenty of world percussion samples.

The duo did an admirable job working the smaller crowd, playing new single "Summer Song" before closing with "See A Penny (Pick It Up)." -Eric Pulsifer

Trail of Dead

"Who is this?" we heard one incredulous festival-goer ask, midway through Trail of Dead's epic Saturday afternoon set. It's unfortunate that anyone should have to ask that question at all, especially in Austin, considering that in the early 2000s Trail of Dead were hometown heroes poised on the cusp of rock superstardom. It must have felt like a bit of a kick in the teeth to play a daylight slot in their own hometown, a decade into their career, but major label woes and chronic flip-flopping by fans and critics (they're either rock's last hope or pretentious has-beens, depending on which blog you're reading and on what day) have kept the band from becoming the international rock stars they so clearly deserve to be.

But none of that mattered once the band blasted into "The Betrayal of Roger Casement and the Irish Brigade," a blistering instrumental off last month's Festival Thyme EP. Co-frontmen Conrad Keeley and Jason Reece led the six-piece through a thoroughly entertaining set that mixed a steady stream of classic barn-burners with a handful of killer new songs, from Festival Thyme and an as-yet-untitled album due in January. (One punk-inflected tune in particular caught our attention—judging from the chorus, it might be called "One Billion"? Look out for it). Highlights included Reece screeching through "Caterwaul" (from 2004's much-maligned Worlds Apart), rocking Top Gun aviators and dangling from the stage scaffolding, and the set-closing, twenty-minute rendition of "Totally Natural," complete with lengthy drum solo, Sonic Youth-style guitar washes, and numerous tempo changes. The set was fun, cathartic, and loud as hell, and judging by the crowd's reaction they could have been watching Guns N Roses circa 1989. Well played, boys. -Matt Dewitt

Dan Deacon by Patrick Dentler

Beneath a stage packed with photographers and a glowing green skull, Dan Deacon unloosed a gleeful set illuminated by bursts of camera flashes and pulsing lights. In typical Deacon fashion, the electronic artist worked the audience from the audience, performing his Saturday night set off the stage enveloped by the crowd. Deacon's instantly recognizable chipmunk vocals escaped from somewhere below a sea of waving hands and the occasional crowd surfer.

While those more than three rows back couldn't see the man of the hour, they were able to hear Deacon get his most known song "Crystal Cat" out of the way early before launching into a hyper mix of new and old material. As the intensity grew, Deacon asked the group to make some space before ordering the crowd to form a dance circle. The energy remained high throughout the show, as pairs of dancers bounced around in the brisk evening air. Deacon recently finished recording the follow-up to 2007's "Spiderman of the Rings." -Eric Pulsifer

Municipal Waste

If you have yet to stumble across the cock-rock cartoon that is Richmond, Virginia’s Municipal Waste, you owe it to yourself to do so immediately. What you will discover is unhinged thrash-punk whose high priorities are drinking and partying, all of which directly corresponds to a live set that incorporates specialty guitars, banners, and even a customized beer bong that sport the Municipal Waste logo. Immediately upon starting their set, beer cans flew into the air and a pit started circling around at vocalist Tony “Guardrail” Foresta’s command. The beer bong made an appearance during “The Inebriator,” and fast-paced, Slayer-indebted gems like “The Thrashin’ of the Christ” inspired more beer-spillage and recklessness. Foresta boldly condemned “shitty keyboard playing bands” and persuaded the crowd to battle in the Wall of Death, which resulted in yours truly being dogpiled by twenty gutter punks. -Adam Schragin

Neil Hamburger

The ill-considered Stage 2, tucked into a far corner of the park past a labyrinthine series of pathways, seemed designed to dissuade casual audiences from discovering artists assigned thereto. Thankfully, the stage centered heavily on cultish acts with small but devoted fan bases determined to seek out their favorites, and if there was ever an act more cultish than Neil Hamburger, it wasn't for lack of trying. Hamburger's character-based meta-comedy garnered him a little attention in the early part of this decade, when non sequiturs and awkward silences had begun to replace the punch lines and observational humor of mainstream stand-up and sketch comedy. Hamburger, as played by San Francisco artist Gregg Turkington, is a purposely unpleasant Borscht Belt-style comedian who tells pop-culture oriented jokes which are poor in taste, quality, and execution (Paris Hilton gets a lot of attention).

The performer himself is crass and unlikeable—throughout the act, Hamburger coughs and snuffles loudly into the microphone, whines for more alcohol, and occasionally screams apropos of nothing. None of the jokes we heard are reprintable here, although "Three-Piece Chicken Dinner," the country tune he warbled to open the show (the backing track played through what sounded like a Casio keyboard preset) wasn't half bad. Still, the fifty-odd diehards who skipped the "real" headliners on the big stages had a lot of fun. The point of the act is the meticulous attention to detail Turkington brings to his character, from the pitiful sighs that punctuate nearly every punch line to the truly repulsive anti-hygiene on display—giant horn-rims fogged and sweaty, hair slimed with what looks like bacon grease. Either you get it or you don't, and although the character's mannerisms trumped his delivery by about two to one we'll admit to laughing a lot more than we thought we would. (For more Hamburger we recommend seeking out "The Show Must Go Off!" in which Neil performs to an utterly confused audience of ex-cons and welfare mothers at a Phoenix dog racing track). -Matt Dewitt

DOA Mosh Pit by Phive

Rival Schools

A follow-up to 2001's United By Fate, Rival School's solitary full-length release, has been something fans of the post-hardcore band have been clamoring for since the band fell apart shortly after its release. Now the band is back together and on Saturday night fans wondering what the future held for Rival Schools got a clear answer from vocalist and guitarist Walter Schreifels. "We haven't put out an album in a long time, but we're going to soon," Schreifels said.

The band's live performance was a nostalgic note-for-note recreation of material from their previous LP, but it was also a reminder of how dated the band's sound is today. The four-piece ripped through singles "Used For Glue" and "Good Things" and also threw in a cover of The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" and a new song, "Arranged Marriages." -Eric Pulsifer

Integrity by Nash Cook

In what was to be one of many queues for the port-a-john that weekend, Parts and Labor’s Dan Friel (an apparent punk scholar!) explained to us that while Municipal Waste’s pit was a pit of love (or at least good times), Integrity’s pit was one of hate. And in the darkness of Saturday night, it sure appeared that way, with an angrier, more shirtless and bulky contingency of air-punchers now taking over. But if there was love to be found, it was for the band themselves, who were one of Fun Fun Fun’s prize catches and had the full attention of their legions of fans. Integrity’s hard hardcore has reigned for twenty years, starting with a self-released cassette and continuing with many releases for Victory records and eighteen (!) former members in the can. Integrity may have sounded angry on Saturday, but clearly loved every onstage minute. -Adam Schragin

More thoughts on Integrity's set:

For the third year in a row, Fun Fest's punk stage delivered something for everyone—while proto-skate punk such as ALL, The Dead Milkmen, and Bad Brains got the lion's share of attention this year, goth-metal diehards Integrity were present to get the mosh crowd riled up. Which could explain why the Cleveland band's early-evening set left such a bad taste in our mouths—while the songs were appreciably brutal, melding heavy low-end grind with thrashing guitars and horrorcore vocals, anyone within 100 feet of the stage was periodically distracted by frequent violent altercations within the maelstrom in front of the stage. At least twice, someone was physically dragged out of the pit, all the way to the nearest exit, and unceremoniously dumped outside the fences, by a dozen or so shirtless moshers who didn't appear to have any affiliation with park security. The band just sped from one tune to another, without comment. When we saw the stick-thin high school girl emerge from the crowd, sobbing into her hands, we figured it was time to head back to civilization, and left to go find ourselves a hot dog. -Matt Dewitt

Centro-matic

Denton, Texas’ Centro-matic rocked Stage 1 Saturday with a folky, rambling indie rock set full of harmony and warm tunes. A good crowd gathered with the November sun on their backs to watch the four-piece roll through eyes-on-the-open-road songs that are a little gruff and rattled but full of sweet spots as the fans looked on with great interest but low movement. Among those songs played was “Calling Thermatico” with its distorted solo and honey-dipped melody. The band even set up the song by making a positive remark about the outcome of the recent elections, which was a popular topic for stage banter this year. Later in the song, Centro-matic brought everyone back together with some in unison clapping. Bright choruses and plinking keys were also a point of interest for those fans of this alt-country influenced indie rock. -William Mills

Black Heart Procession

Black Heart Procession doesn’t look like you’d think they would. Spend ten years listening to their funerary brand of SoCal bleak-pop and you don’t expect to spy on stage a diverse bunch of fellows ranging from the typically 21st century hip to the eyebrow-raisingly style-ignorant. Included in the latter may be Pall Jenkins, a silver-toothed and somewhat trucker-esque man whose distinct vocals have driven the band since its late-nineties beginning. Beyond appearances, though, the San Diego quintet has built an enviable catalog of well-wrought (and well-thought) head-bobbing dirges, and they were on display Saturday on a still-warm late afternoon.

With songs built on a steady scaffolding of violin and keyboard, the band doesn’t veer too far from their studio output, and often to a nice, if somber effect. While it would at times have been nice to see a bit more fire in their performance—especially during standouts such as “Tangled” and “Tropics of Love,” two excellent songs which could have used just a tinge more kick—the sedate manner most often suited the music well. Altogether, the act offered a fine and technically-proficient approach to what you could call “new lounge,” or, better yet, “morgue-rock”—no doubt, when one of those notorious yellow helicopters settled hurriedly on the hospital just behind the band, the morbidity of it seemed perfectly, and uncomfortably, appropriate.-Nick Courtright

Deerhoof by Briana Purser

Whereas most bands not in retiree mode assault their audiences with the newest of the new, featuring setlists dominated by tracks off their freshest (and surely greatest) album, the ever-boffo Deerhoof blessed an eager and antsy crowd Saturday evening with a canon-crossing dose of greatest hits action. Utilizing the full force of their newly-christened four piece, dueling guitarists Ed Rodriguez and Jon Dietrich weaved in and out of each other’s notes all set, while octopus-armed drummer Greg Saunier—the frantic, hair-flying heart of the band—lived up to his reputation as one of rock’s finest small-kit drummers, even if his audience thank you was a shade less than brief. And fronting all of it was the diminutive Satomi Matsuzaka, who directed the crowd with an endearing amalgam of hand gestures and incomprehensible lyrics. In short, this is a band of professional musicians, and they sounded like it.

Driving through the dust were standouts from the art-rock pillars’ last five full-length releases, including years-old favorites “Milk Man” and “Dummy Discards a Heart,” which the band’s energetic approach made sound brand new. Also pleasing the crowd were back-catalog hits “Spirit Ditties of No Tone” and “Twin Killers” from 2005’s The Runners Four, and “+81” and “The Perfect Me” from 2006’s Friend Opportunity, the album which ostensibly launched the band into what, for them, is mainstream acceptance. Despite the career-spanning nature of the set, some of its highlights, of course, were songs off the latest album, Offend Maggie, including “The Tears and Music of Love,” “Buck and Judy,” the spectacular “Fresh Born,” and the inexplicable though compelling “Basket Ball Get Your Groove Back.” Put all of it together, including a wordless rendition of the Offend Maggie’s title track, and what you get is a restless and captivating Saturday evening set, and one that kicked off the first night of Fun Fun Fun Fest’s third year in fine fashion. -Nick Courtright

Z-Trip

Fun Fun Fun Festers who made it over Saturday evening to Stage 4 saw the refined and eminent DJ skills of Z-Trip as he kept the crowd condensed in front in full dance mode. His mixing was almost seamless with musical pairings of hip hop beats laid on top of rock and pop songs that were quite clever. Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” made it into the mix, as did bits of M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” and Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire”. Songs were chopped and tweaked as girls danced on stage. Also, his scratching skills showed an impressive knowledge of each track through and through, as they all seemed to be strategic. His only shortcoming during his constantly evolving set was the presence of occasional hyping remarks shouted into the mic. Inciting phrases spoken into the mic like, “I want to hear you, Austin!”, cheapened it just a little and reminded of club DJ, sounding excessive and unnecessary. -William Mills

Dead Milkmen by Nash Cook

The most improbable miracle of Fun Fun Fun Fest was not the transformation of the grassland of Waterloo Park into a dust bowl, but the one-off reunion of ‘80s and ‘90s punk/indie gods The Dead Milkmen. Since breaking up in 1995 the band has been conservative with reunion shows, the most notable being a 2004 memorial gig in Philly after the death of bassist Dave “Blood” Schulthise. What a revelation it was to see the legions of old and new punk rockers, indie fans and whatever else craning their necks and laughing along to the magic irreverence that is “Punk Rock Girl” (the set’s opener), “Methodist Coloring Book,” “Bitchin’ Camaro,” “Beach Party Vietnam,” and the Texas-centric tune “Tacoland” about the sadly defunct former venue/bar in San Antonio. Lead singer Rodney Anonymous was elated at the changing of the guard in the White House, and told the crowd that they could “literally do anything…start a band, write that book,” and couldn’t help taking a dig or two at Sarah Palin, lyrically conjuring up the VP nominee both blowing Van Halen roadies and as the subject of another joke involving a class ring that is too tasteless to repeat in polite company.

Snark aside, we have no doubt that the set was a boon and blessing to the many punk rock men and women – once girls and boys themselves – who grew up listening to the seminal band. “This is so fun- we don’t know why we quit doing this shit,” said Anonymous, shortly before two encores. We know it’s hard to keep it going, but we’re sure glad they came together again, if just for one show. -Adam Schragin