More ACL Day Three Capsules: Rodriguez, White Dress, Dirty Projectors

If Saturday was The Day It Rained At ACL, Sunday will surely be remembered for the mud. And the stench—upon arriving it was noted by more than a few fans that the park bore an overwhelming olfactory resemblance to an ill-kept petting zoo. The origin of the odor seems to have been the unholy combination of Dillo Dirt and straw used by festival organizers in a futile attempt to sop up some of the mud slop. Though the mud was deeper and more treacherous in some parts of the park than others, it pervaded; the distress suffered by the $2.5 million Great Lawn was heartbreaking, and it simply stood no chance against the cumulative total of 180,000 sets of feet stamping through it over the three-day festival. In the end, surely to the dismay of C3 and the City of Austin, it looked more like a giant half-melted tub of dark chocolate gelato than a carpet-tight fairway. Nevertheless, the condition underfoot didn’t deter most from cramming in as much value for their entertainment dollar as possible on Sunday.

We started day three with Rodriguez's set on the Dell stage. Backed by a sextet of musicians that looked to be 1/3 his age, the black-clad 67-year old, who has been enjoying his career’s third renaissance of late thanks to reissues of his two excellent early-70s albums Cold Fact and Coming From Reality, tottered up to the mic assisted by a stage hand. While the set initially suffered from minor sound problems, scattered feedback, and some highly suspect synth accompaniment, the strength of his songs helped both band and audience forget those niggling annoyances; we even forgave the ensemble for losing the plot completely on “I Think Of You,” which was a mess of poor timing that saw a rhythmically wayward Rodriguez strumming his guitar and singing along seemingly unaware that his band was in a different time signature. Despite those problems, the majority of his show was fantastic and loaded with material from Cold Fact. His brief between-song addresses to the audience, such as the introduction to his most famous number “Sugar Man” which was: “This is a descriptive, not a prescriptive song. Get your hugs, stay off drugs…” only endeared him further to an already receptive crowd.

In our mad dash through the mud, we cruised past AMD just in time to catch an earful of The B-52s doing “Private Idaho” before parking it in front of the Austin Ventures stage for White Dress, a band heretofore unbeknownst to us. We’re chuffed that they’re now beknownst to us, as their set was an unexpected pleasure. White Dress is a trio of two guitarists—one of which does double-duty on keys—and a drummer, who are led by songwriter Arum Rae Valkonen. At their best, the band was reminiscent of PJ Harvey, doing plaintive, bluesy dirges that Valkonen absolutely wailed, a sound that must have carried far past the port-o-cans that were directly in her line of sight. The band alternated between these heavy, bewitching numbers and a few serviceable dance-rock numbers, while also sprinkling in a couple of unremarkable, sentimental 4/4 pop songs. The latter were difficult to wait out after witnessing the kind of power the trio was capable of, but ultimately we left excited about the band’s potential.

Finally, after a pit stop to scarf a veggie burger and an attempt (futile though it was) to free our ankles from the caked-on mud sarcophagi they were encased in, we scoped out a spot near the front of the Dell stage to see what turned out to be the best set we’ve seen Dirty Projectors play this year. It’s uncanny, but they seem to be getting sharper by the week (If you haven’t yet witnessed their live show, you owe it to yourself to see them at Antone’s later this month). With the sun at their backs, they launched into “Knotty Pine”, their contribution to this year’s Dark Was The Night compilation, and for the next 50 minutes we were treated to an incredible display of ingenious songwriting, precise musicianship, and a command of voice as instrument that simply doesn’t exist elsewhere in indie rock. It’s difficult to think of another recent band as virtuosic in their playing and arcane in their composition that can, somehow, create music that is much larger than the sum of its parts and still make an emotional connection with an audience - even, as it seemed in this case, an audience who was largely hearing the band for the first time. After nearly an hour of Dirty Projectors’ staccato blasts of avant punk, R&B, and Highlife, we couldn’t imagine seeing any of the bands left on the docket topping it. So, we didn’t, instead choosing to slog our way off into the sunset, which was for us a perfect way to wrap up ACL 2009.