Words by Adam Kincaid, WKNC
Photos by Jake Seaton, NBC-17
Four venues in three hours to start off the night.
Four bands already in and each one alone worthy of the Hopscotch wristband cost.
That was what the first half of my Thursday night consisted of. But one band, unknown to me before Thursday night created one of those magical transcending moments of brief immortality, of pure mesmerizing ecstasy that only live music can generate. The thrill of discovery, the shock of the power in the chords and words, the sensory overload of taking it all in — those are the moments us music lovers live for. It’s the reason we go to see live music, for that sudden jolt of awakening and enlightenment that those experiences can exist.
Sleepy Sun provided that for me Thursday at Hopscotch. A band I had never heard of before and certainly never seen live, Sleepy Sun is a psychedelic act hailing from San Fransisco and sounds like a cross between Blows Against The Empire Jefferson Starship and an acid-induced Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s.
Soulful, powerful, and completely hypnotizing, they rocked The Pour House with a controlled yet wild presence and majesty. Ranging anywhere from soft mesmeric vocals that can stand you quivering on the spot to ferocious headbanging, Sleepy Sun was genuinely captivating and a for-sure standout of the weekend.
One of the great things, but also the most stressful, about Hopscotch is the huge variety of music happening simultaneously across the city. Just looking at the schedule is at once exciting at the choice of bands being offered in my hometown and also depressing because you can only be in one place at a time.
I’ve learned from other festivals that meticulously mapping your every move is often helpful but typically ineffective as crowds gather and you run into and chase down friends. Instead I’ve chosen to play Hopscotch by ear and hit as many different venues and varieties of music as I can.
I started where what seemed like every other person in downtown started: at Tir Na Nog for local heroes Gray Young. Already the venue was packed to the walls, and I had to squirm my way into a position to properly listen to the show as the band began. At this point in the band’s career, Gray Young is as tight as ever on stage. Just coming off recording a brand new album at Duck Kee Studios in Mebane, the trio seemed seamless in its performance, each member in tune with the other like never before.
After five songs of Gray Young, I decided to squeeze out and head to the Berkeley Cafe to check out Denver-based Pictureplane (aka Travis Egedy), who dived straight into his customary “dark-rift” trance act he is known for. He mixes live on stage in the same vein as Girl Talk, but his music is much less poppy and exceedingly more experimental in nature. The music is quite a roller coaster of mixes and soundscapes that can be difficult to adjust to as he delves from one beat to another without any forewarning but also exciting and keeps you on your toes throughout.
Within a matter of minutes, the dancefloor was hot and sweaty with grooving festival goers gyrating to the beats for what was a forewarning of what was to come at the Berkeley all night (Double Dagger, Javelin and Future Islands took over afterward).
After about 30 minutes of shaking my ass and working up a nice sweat, I decided to head down to the Lincoln Theatre to catch Max Indian. Officially the band’s last show as it goes on an indefinite hiatus, I was concerned about this performance as I had seen the band perform halfheartedly (in my own opinion) at the Local 506 a couple of weeks earlier. Fortunately, any fears were immediately erased as the group dived right into its hits with a great crowd singing backup along with headman Carter Gaj being the coolheaded rocker behind.
The show had an intimate feel, which is rare for the Lincoln, while at the same time producing lively energy in the typical, fun-loving nature that made Max Indian such a popular act in the Triangle. No one was having anything but a great time. At the end, Gaj just thanked the crowd and walked off the stage to a roaring applause. It will be a shame if Max Indian doesn’t come back for a while, but this show will always be one of my favorites of the band’s and if the band does go out, that is the way it should be done.
Next on our list was Best Coast at Tir Na Nog, but as my friends and I came down Blount Street, it became apparent that the 1-in-1-out had already gone into effect with a line of more than 80 people waiting to get inside. So instead, we ducked into the Pour House to catch the last half of Birds of Avalon, which was in the midst of destroying the minds of everyone in attendance with its psychedelic grooviness and bewildering stage presence. BoA is one of those groups that you never forget you have seen, and besides Kings, The Pour House is my favorite place to see the band.
After Sleepy Sun, Akron/Family finally jumped on stage and took off on its own freak-folk induced daydream, bringing the crowd to its knees with each song, as it dropped to barely a hush one moment only to rip apart eardrums the next with a barrage of white noise and seemingly endless cacophonous enchantment.
Brad Cook and Joe Westerlund of Megafaun joined the band on stage for a jam session that seemed to last seconds and decades at the same time, while concert goers climbed over each other to join into the frenzy in front of the stage.
I’ve seen dozens of shows at the Pour House before, but never have I felt like the walls were going to be ripped apart and flung down by the multitudes of jumping screaming admirers. Eventually, I had to take myself out of the pit and stumble outside just as Hopscotch Curator Grayson Currin joined the stage to scream alongside Seth Olinsky to the delight of the packed crowd.
It is going to be difficult for the rest of Hopscotch to live up to the last three bands at the Pour House, especially my newfound favorite, Sleepy Sun; but with two more days of daytime shows and the night time festivities, I have no doubt I have yet to see the best of what is to come.
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