On Saturday, as massive, beautiful military aircraft hovered overhead, the announcer mentioned that the Air and Water Show, the largest spectator event in the country, did not set out to glamorize war. He then rattled off one plane’s many fighting abilities in Iraq and other recent military hot spots—only leaving out its ability to, you know, kill people. The friendly announcer then informed us, repeatedly, that we could sign up with the Air Force at a conveniently located stall.

I had a spot in the tent area for the corporate sponsors—Shell, Boeing, American Airlines. I noticed a group of men and women sporting Wounded Warrior T-shirts, including a twentysomething guy with a muscular build save for a metal leg, another young guy with a metal arm and another who’d been blinded, looking just old enough to attend the prom. Meanwhile, our helpful, cheery announcer once again reminded us that the nonmilitaristic Air and Water Show offered a booth where we could enlist.

When I heard that Dan Deacon, Deerhunter and No Age were going to rock the Logan Square Auditorium with a round-robin show, I immediately thought about whether the venue’s notably bouncy floor would finally cave in. After all, that’s a pretty formidable lineup of critically acclaimed rabble-rousing performers. Not only was the trio going to take turns playing, but the three acts were also going to collaborate with each other, each adding its own bits and melding each other’s interpretations into the live set. They even had CSS’s Lovefoxxx design a wacky shirt for the “No Deachunter” tour. Also, this was the show that was closing out a long, moist-then-hot Lollapalooza weekend. The hype was definitely there.

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Photo: Flint Chaney

Lollapalooza is always as much a circus for the eyes as a feast for the ears, so we unleashed a squad of photographers to record this year’s three-day festival for posterity. We’ve got live music shots from Friday, Saturday and Sunday plus Kidzapalooza and various Lolla after-parties—plus portraits of the fest-goers themselves. Check ‘em out and tell us what you think.

at Hard Rock Hotel, Photo: Jacob Nelson

Vodka, Red Bull and an electric violin: these are the three things you need to get  roomful of people to stop acting like they’re at a middle school dance and start acting like they’re at a party. Or at least that’s how it went down at Hard Rock Hotel’s third and final Lollapalooza 2009 after-party Sunday night. What started as a small crowd of people quietly sipping free cocktails and Dos Equis became a raucous dance-off once a woman got onstage with an electric violin to support DJ Mia Moretti’s fast-paced mix of indie-pop songs. Read more »

Them Crooked Vultures, a supergroup featuring super rockers Dave Grohl, John Paul Jones and Josh Homme, made their debut appearance last night in Chicago to a sold-out Metro. It was a fitting cap for a weekend’s overdose of music.

There’s something to be said for being famous enough to cut your handle down to a single name. But for someone who’s risen from the underground, like Homme, to arrive at the place where your name is no longer followed by brackets and a list of four other projects that people half-know (for years it was Kyuss) is the final mark that you’ve entered the real-deal pantheon of rock greats.

The buzz throughout Lollapolooza weekend for this show was intense. The whole top balcony area of Metro was guest list, but I didn’t see any “celebs.” This felt like a friends and family affair.

Homme, Grohl and Jones walked on stage, accompanied by Alain Johannes (Queens of the Stone Age guitar slinger—he’s not yet a household name, but that’s no slight against his chops) and took a minute to soak up the crowd’s roaring expectations. Homme said a quick hello and it was on.

Grohl delivered eight bars of “Crunge”-tastic half-time thump, and then the whole band turned on a dime into a double-time shred uptempo boogie. The opener felt grandiose and awesome, and it served as the template of the new band’s sound—ace hard rock, with lots of twists and turns—or, to put it simply, Queens of the Stone Age with Led Zeppelin’s Jones on bass.

That’s really what it was, and that’s no complaint. Grohl and Johannes are the ultimate players to ever fill the drum and second guitar position in Queens. For three guys already firing on all cylinders, taking it up even a notch further requires nothing less than enlisting one of the all- time great four-string maestros—why not let him play a little keys? And keytar. And pedals. And eight-string bass. And slide bass. Yes, Jones played all of these in the just-over-an-hour set. I can’t actually imagine Homme letting anyone else on earth get away with some of those non-traditional bass tones (I heard a guy next to me mutter “Primus”), but none of us, unless Berry Oakley is watching from on high, has any right or authority to say shit to John Paul Jones about his playing.

The Vultures felt like a proper BAND last night. The songs were fleshed out, crazy tight and fully formed. Grohl and Jones were constantly grinning at each other and getting off every time a tricky rhythm spun in and set the head-nodding crowd off kilter. Grohl and Homme’s voices blended amazingly well when they sang together on a couple of tracks, Grohl adding just a little bit of low-end grit to Homme’s smooth croon.

Homme had to be in heaven. He buttered up Chicago as they roared in between songs, “THAT’s why we didn’t do this in L.A.,” and I sincerely hope that Homme’s 16-year-old self caught a glimpse of John Paul Jones, standing stage right of him, raising his right fist in an ecstatic salute to the latest in a long line of some of the most magnificient guitar riffs ever to issue from speakers. Homme has been a huge dude since high school, but now he’s officially one of the big boys.

While I enjoyed Fleet Foxes on a drizzly Friday evening at Lolla, my position at the waaay back of the crowded stage meant I couldn’t see the bearded Seattle guys when this came from the stage: “I love Chicago! I would live in this city if it were on the West Coast.” But late on Saturday night, it felt a lot more personal.

Hugged by a Metro-full of fans, the Fleet Foxes didn’t need Lolla-stage antics to keep the crowd engaged. After Swedish psych band Dungen warmed up the audience, the harmonizing folkies took to the stage at about 12:30am and played through fan favorites like “White Winter Hymnal.” The melodious tunes and a capella harmonies seemed to tightly wrap around everyone in the packed venue. Except, even miles away from the sun and blistering heat of Grant Park, it was still (painfully, sop-ingly, ridiculously!) sweaty. And the audience wasn’t standing quietly rapt: there was a building buzz as the show unfolded. For every mellow song opening, the Foxes segued into energetic, intense rocking that belied the initial gentility. The audience loved every minute of it. The band even tossed water bottles to the crowd, joking, “You guys are all about to pass out, aren’t you?” The crowd did its best to survive the heat and those who soldiered on were rewarded when frontman Robin Pecknold came back to stage for encore “Oliver James,” accompanied only by his acoustic guitar and the audience. Following Pecknold’s solo, the rest of the guys came to the stage for an eruptive version of “Blue Ridge Mountains.” The verdict: this music translates best on a smaller stage.

Unofficial Lolla weekend get-downs are multiplying and they’re likely to be satisfying as well. Lono Brazil unleashes his Disco Unusual Social Club at Danny’s tonight, the best off-the-wall, underground disco party in Bucktown—bar none. It is likely to be jammed. Manor and RiNo continue the glam-tastic partying with indie-dance lover Mom Jeans (Danny Masterson) at Manor and DJ Cassidy holding down the late-night session at RiNo.

Hard Rock Hotel’s nightly parties have earned a great rep for off-the-hook live and DJ sets and the odd celebrity sighting. Having thrown together a DJ set in the evening for the hotel’s Base Bar—I was well aware that the hotel was an extra-popular hangout on the overly moist Friday. When I got back to the Michigan Avenue hot spot I found about 300 people waiting to get in—badges on one side, no badges on the other. A friend at Hard Rock  got me up and in with plenty of time to see PBJ (Peter, Björn and John) rocking the DJ booth—all three band members, which is a bit nutty considering the Swedes were playing another gig that night (I think) and deejaying at Debonair later—that’s tight scheduling. The trio went for quality signature tracks in every genre from Madonna to “This is Acid” plus mod organ jams, soul and more. It was the kind of mix I tried to play as a Darkroom and Sonotheque resident DJ—but a bit more electic and fun. PBJ? They might be melancholy tunesmiths but they have the fun thing down.

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Arctic Monkeys, Photo: Jacob Nelson

The Arctic Monkeys played a sold-out show last night at the Metro, proving to many a bewildered music fans that a band can maintain popularity even years after the first swells of hype. Scalpers sold tickets for $80 a pop outside the venue’s doors with a confidence in their product that I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed before. “Eighty bucks, man? Are you serious?” a troubled fan asked in a voice begging for sympathy. “That’s the price,” came the stern, almost vexed reply. “Take it or leave it.”

I never listened to the Arctic Monkeys, except when the band exploded in 2006 and I was begrudgingly forced to hear their hit single, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor,” every time I turned on a radio station or entered a music venue. Though I had heard their records included other, less annoying songs, I was too annoyed to find out. But you know what? After watching them play last night, I understand how they can still sell out shows. The four-piece walked on stage shortly after midnight and launched into crunchy, guitar-rock songs that may not have been as rockin’ as, say, The White Stripes, but certainly weren’t as gratuitously hooky as I had pegged them for. Dim blue and red lights barely kept the band illuminated throughout the night, though the occasional burst of fluorescent exposed the four-piece, specifically the jean-jacket-sporting singer and guitarist Alex Turner, as a band with a clear focus on rocking and a surplus of the energy necessary to do exactly that.

DJ Mix Master Mike

Belmont Army and Angels & Kings both got a head start on Lollapalooza after-parties last night, as the venues both hosted parties before one note was heard at Lollapalooza. I dropped into Belmont Army last night at around 7pm to find the four-floor hipster wardrobe armory to be serving up more than tight pants. DJ Mix Master Mike, a regular Beastie Boys contributor, had just begun spinning a energetic set of danceable mash-ups that included everything from old-school hip-hop to “Smoke on the Water” at the adidas-sponsored party. A sizable group crowded around the elevated DJ booth, taking breaks from head-bobbing to sample free gelato, drink free beer and try on shoes.

DJ Mom Jeans

At around 10pm, Danny Masterson (Hyde from That ’70s Show) began a DJ set under his moniker DJ Momjeans at Angels & Kings. The venue was hosting a private party more intimate than the one I’d been to hours earlier (i.e., there weren’t shoes everywhere), but unfortunately this one did not offer any gelato. Momjeans played a relaxed series of indie-rock mash-ups, losing the percussion from Phoenix’s “Listomania,” for instance and turning the energetic pop song into something more ambient. When I asked if things might get more exciting, he shook his head. “Nah, this is gonna be pretty chill,” he said. “It’s a whiskey night.” I wasn’t sure if he meant this figuratively, as in the crowd is in a mellow, whiskey-drinking-kind-of-mood, or literally, since the venue was serving complimentary bourbon drinks all night. Either way, his relaxed set was a good way to kick off Lollapalooza—not with a bang, but with a gentle nudge.