Photos by Jake Seaton
Review by Chris Cowperthwaite
The only other time I’ve had the opportunity to see them live was nearly 10 years ago, for a sweltering mid-day show in the middle of a field at the second Bonnaroo. The two situations couldn’t have been more different, but the results were the exact same: I walked away with a huge grin, and my throat was scratchy from roaring my approval alongside thousands of fans.
By eschewing turntables and playing all their own instruments, The Roots approach hip-hop differently than pretty much everyone else out there.
They are absolute masters of working the crowd: from the moment they take the stage until the moment they walk off, The Legendary Roots Crew’s number one goal is to entertain. Drummer Ahmir “?uestlove” Thompson exudes energy from his perch overlooking the rest of the band, and it is always fun to watch sousaphone player Damon “Tuba Gooding Jr.” Bryson stalk back and forth across the stage.
The Roots charged out of the gate for their headlining set, starting off with a cover of the Beastie Boys’ classic “Paul Revere.” The famously-partisan Philadelphia natives did justice to some of New York City’s favorite sons by dedicating the song to the late Adam “MCA” Yauch.
From there, they launched into a rapid-fire set of Roots Crew classics mixed with a healthy dose of unexpected covers. My highlights included hits like “The Seed (2.0)” and “Thought at Work” off their critically acclaimed 2002 album Phrenology.
They delivered in typical Roots fashion, band members doing little choreographed dances while they played. For a hip-hop act, they even let guitar player “Captain” Kirk Douglas show off his chops with a blistering solo during a cover of GNR’s “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”
This band may be 25 years old, but its members attack their shows with a fresh enthusiasm that rubs off on everyone around them — and The Roots love getting the audience involved with calls and responses.
Emcee Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter asked the crowd over and over again, “Can you dig it?” The answer was always a resounding ‘yes.’
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Photo & Review by Chris Cowperthwaite
You know that moment when you’re rocking so hard that you fall off your perch behind the drum kit? Wait, you don’t? Well, then you are obviously not Zack Mexico drummer Joey LaFountaine.
The Kill Devil Hills-based band opened night two of the Hopscotch Music Festival with a mix of psychedelic surf rock and punk at the Contemporary Art Museum in Raleigh.
Many of their songs start off with a laid back feel, guitars strumming familiar surf pop patterns; but they all eventually pivot to their own brand of up-tempo garage enthusiasm.
My personal highlight was “My Baby Has X-Ray Vision,” but really, the entire set was entertaining — from the random horse in the crowd to the parade of songs that had high-octane hints of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack.
Even the band’s outfits were worth mentioning — between LaFountain’s caveman motif and lead singer John Saturley’s shiny MC Hammer pants.
There were only two things to be disappointed with during their set. First, guitar player Matt Wentz was plagued with technical difficulties, spending much of the night fiddling with his pedals. Second, Saturley tried to throw his guitar into the CAM rafters several times during the last song (while LaFountaine was busy falling off his rock throne), but could never quite get it far enough.
I think we were all rooting for it to make it all the way across the beam and dangle from its cable, but alas, it kept falling just shy.
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Photo & Review by Chris Cowperthwaite
While I freely admit I hadn’t put in nearly as much pre-festival research for 2012 as I did for 2011, I did have a schedule that I intended to follow on night one. Needless to say, that didn’t last long.
As a matter of fact, I didn’t see a single band I originally intended to check out. But guess what — I had a great first night. Of course.
My friend, Justin, convinced me to tag along for the Matthew E. White: One Incantation Under God set at Fletcher Opera Theater, and it was hands down the highlight of the evening.
It isn’t often that you have a show with roughly 30 musicians that still has the feel of a solo act. White, dressed in a white suit (largely hidden by his long hair and epic beard) stood front and center with his guitar; he was backed by an orchestra complete with violins, horns and a chorus, along with a wide array of keys. The setup was beyond impressive, and it was incredibly fun to see one of the keyboard players occasionally jump up mid-song to serve as conductor for the strings.
The Fletcher Opera Theater is technically designed for people to sit and politely enjoy their concert, but keep in mind what I said about the best laid plans. Midway through “Steady Pace,” just the second song on the setlist, two people confidently marched to the front of the pit and started dancing. It snowballed from there, and I, for one, was thrilled.
Soon, there were about 30 people in a tight group gettin’ down to funky horn breakdowns and lofty string highlights.
Those build-ups would become the theme for the night. White & Co. had mellow strings start “Hot Toddies,” but those quickly gave way to a giant ambient psychedelic jam with powerful background vocals. “Big Love” had White’s mumbling through poignant lyrics, forcing you to listen intently — and then he would bring the backup singers to the forefront again.
After several of these “big” songs, White looked almost sheepish as he copped to bringing the tempo down at one point, saying: “This one’s slower. I apologize.” That didn’t last, though, as he immediately followed it up with “Gone Away” and its repetitive, increasingly-overpowering chorus and horns crashing like waves from the stage.
The final tidal wave of sound washed ashore with “Brazos,” the set closer that took the crowd back to church as the band built to a peak with White’s reassurance over and over that “Jesus Christ is your friend.” This one was where you could really see the rest of the band’s unbridled joy: trumpet players and violinists alike were bobbing their heads whenever their services weren’t needed, and there was plenty of grinning across stage at each other.
After a short encore break, the entire ensemble came back for the most rollicking song of the night, a cover of Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock.” It had a loose, fun-loving feel — more like the famous Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young version (if only they had a 30-piece backing band, of course).
White made a special point to thank Hopscotch curator Grayson Currin for taking a chance on this project; he said Currin agreed to add them to the lineup before only a handful of people had even gotten a chance to listen to their album.
I think most people in Fletcher last night would agree he made the right call.
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Review by Ben McNeely
Photo by James Nix
A changed Bombadil took the stage at Fletcher Opera Hall late Saturday night.
Gone were the pan flutes, trinket instruments and bright colors.
Even the outfits the quartet wore were stylish, but muted compared to bright colors for which they are known.
Maybe it was just the venue they were playing that demanded more prestige than flair, but it also was that Bombadil had been changed: Changed by two years of making music in slow motion, as guitarist Bryan Rahija said, while Daniel Michalak recovered from a debilitating nerve illness that severely reduced the use of his hands.
Yet, the Bombadil that took the stage was confident and mature, mixing old favorites and songs from a new album, to be released Nov. 8.
When Michalak and Stuart Robinson stepped onstage to begin the show with “Reasons,” the duet from the band’s celebrated sophomore album Tarpits and Canyonlands, it was a reason to smile. You could feel the anticipation in the air, the silent question that hung: Do they still have the magic?
Yes, indeed, they do.
The big sound and frenetic energy of Michalak dancing on stage wasn’t there. The band had to simplify arrangements to accommodate his hands, which are much better by the way, but which, Michalak admitted, could get better or worse. (Right now, he’s all good, he said.)
The stripped-down sound forced a focus on the songs themselves and not on the showmanship.
Bombadil has always been the full package — solid songwriting and impressive showmanship. It was nice, though, after a long day running around Hopscotch, to sit back and take in music that hasn’t been heard live in two years from a band that left a noticeable hole in the Triangle music scene.
Emotionally, the band ran the gamut — the most stirring coming from Michalak and Robinson’s solo songs. Michalak’s “Marriage” from Tarpits was simple, sweet and direct, countered with Robinson’s intense “Matthew” and a new song “They Will Wait.” (The baby grand piano at the Fletcher sounds incredible. Thanks Raleigh for keeping it tuned.)
But just as Bombadil pushed your heart into your throat, they lifted spirits and took us on a light-hearted trip on a unicycle and explored awkwardness in relationships through a ukulele (all from the upcoming album).
Fans in the audience yelled out during “Cavaliers (Har Hum)” and sang along during “Jellybean Wine” and “Honeymoon,” the quartet’s closer, then gave a well-deserved standing ovation.
A perfectly magical ending to Hopscotch, which served up plenty of musical sorcery all weekend.
And it’s more than just nice to see Bombadil back together, it’s downright uplifting.
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Photos by Jake Seaton
Review by Chris Cowperthwaite
If you’ve seen the Flaming Lips live, you know it’s more spectacle than concert.
Their confetti budget is probably higher than most bands spend on fuel, and frontman Wayne Coyne owns the stage like nobody else.
As Saturday night’s headliner for the Hopscotch Music Festival, the Lips extravaganza was easily one of the highlights of the weekend.
The show got started with one of the band’s trademark routines: Coyne walking his giant space ball across the top of the crowd, while the rest of the band built ambient sound to a crescendo.
From there, it was a tour through the Flaming Lips’ decades-long catalog. 1993′s “She Don’t Use Jelly” had longtime fans cheering, and Coyne begged the crowd to sing along to 2006′s “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song (With All Your Power).”
Occasionally, two teams of local fans were ushered on stage to dance in Dorothy outfits, a role that has morphed from animal outfits, Santas and aliens over the years.
Towards the end of the set, Coyne implored everyone to appreciate the full moon above the Raleigh skyline, before launching into a cover of Pink Floyd’s epic “Brain Damage.”
One of the knocks on Flaming Lips concerts is that Coyne tends to talk too much between songs, something that’s never bothered me much, but a lot of people don’t like it. Saturday’s set had its fair share of one-sided conversations, but didn’t seem to be too bad.
The Lips ended things in style, finishing up with an incredible version of “Do You Realize??” that exploded in emotion as Coyne repeated the chorus with bigger and bigger flourish.
Overall, this was a pretty standard Flaming Lips show — or as standard as one of their shows can be — and I walked away completely happy to be one of the fearless freaks of Hopscotch.
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Review by Ben McNeely, Media General
Photo by James Nix
Odessa Records put on their Sunday best musically at its Day Show at Kings Barcade Friday.
Shit Horse, wild wild geese, Americans in France and Transportation all showed off the best of what this Carrboro label is offering the Triangle local music scene.
But it was The Kingsbury Manx, venerable veterans of the scene, that capped a fantastic afternoon of music.
The band — Clarque Blomquist, Paul Finn, Ryan Richardson and Bill Taylor — looked, felt and played like they’ve always been there and always will be. The vibe in the noticeably older crowd was delightfully comfortable: They knew they were going to see and hear a good show. And that’s what they got.
At Kings, these guys had nothing to prove. They are one of the few local bands at Hopscotch to have played together for more than a decade.
They played for the sheer joy of playing, of being in the moment. And, for the hour, the crowd went right with them.
Moving seamlessly from laid-back, soulful grooves, tinted with other-worldly organ, like “Galloping Ghosts” from their 2009 release, Ascenseur Ouvert! to fast rock from their upcoming album and older releases, The Kingsbury Manx had a cool-kid confidence that only comes from making music for yourself for so long.
If it’s good, people will listen. They will like it or they won’t, not much a band can do about how an audience will respond, yet, some bands beg for you to listen and to love them,
With The Kingsbury Manx, they are who they are. If you like them, great. If they don’t, that’s cool too.
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Review/Photo by Chris Cowperthwaite
There’s a trap many of us fall into at a music festival.
Someone will say, “Man, have you seen these guys? They’re crazy!” and you’ll go see them. You may even enjoy them, which is great! I’ve certainly discovered some incredible music that way.
But if that’s the reason you’re seeing a band, it implies that you could overlook the acts that aren’t doing something nuts. If that’s true, then you might have missed out on Chip Robinson‘s Hopscotch set Friday night — and that’s a shame.
There’s nothing crazy about a Chip Robinson show. It’s just straight up rock ‘n’ roll done right, and the former Backsliders frontman had a big, loyal fanbase crowding into Deep South for his gig. He sings and plays with a been-there-done-that swagger backed up by a devil-may-care attitude; after the show he said, “I should never have lasted this long raging against death.”
Robinson calls Raleigh home now, having bounced around from Texas to Seattle and spending nine years in New York.
This was his first Hopscotch, but it actually should have been his second: he broke his hip in a bike accident last year before the festival started.
Chip admits that he’s probably one of the Hopscotch outsiders with so many indie acts on the schedule, but he’s fine with that.
“They’re precious sounding,” he says with a grin. “I don’t get it.”
That’s not to say he has a problem with some of the different styles of music converging on Raleigh this week; Chip welcomes the diversity that Hopscotch brings and says it’s a big benefit for the Triangle music scene.
“It’s not a plethora of signed acts. There’s a lot, and still some big acts, too, but it’s not a circus,” he says. “To make Raleigh more of a musical place is awesome.”
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Review by Chris Cowperthwaite
Photo by Nick Pironio
As a music fan, it’s always exciting to see a band make good on an opportunity. It’s even better when you weren’t familiar with that band prior to said opportunity.
With that in mind, I think a lot of people would agree that the 2011 Hopscotch Music Festival got off to a great start.
I was looking for an upbeat band to kick things off, and a friend suggested hitting up Dinosaur Feathers at King’s Barcade.
Apparently we weren’t the only ones who had that idea.
Minutes before the self-described “Experimental Pop Tropicalia” band out of Brooklyn, New York, took the stage, there was a line stretching from the front door all the way to Fayetteville Street; I was literally the third to last person to slide in before they started the dreaded one-in-one-out routine.
The packed house seemed to catch the band by surprise. “This was absolutely shocking,” said keyboard player Duck Zimmerman. “We didn’t even bring our merch.”
“Incredible. There was a giant line at the door,” added bassist Ryan Kiley.
Kiley said the band was expecting the first slot on a weeknight to be a tough sell for fans, and they were blown away by such a great turnout. They were also ready to make the most of it.
Dinosaur Feathers plays a fast-paced indie show full of songs that have subtle hints of assorted genres. One minute they’re dropping into a funk-ish breakdown, the next they’re following a ’50s R&B beat. Usually guitarist Greg Sullo takes lead vocals, but at times he, Zimmerman and Kiley are all singing in polyphony.
Despite those different feels, however, the band never strays far from its core high-energy indie sound: there’s a heavy dose of synth-pop layered over acoustic guitar with the occasional sample thrown into the mix.
Dinosaur Feathers is tight with Raleigh mainstays Lonnie Walker, and credits that band with helping them get a foothold in the Triangle. They make it to North Carolina two or three times a year, and this is their first time playing Hopscotch.
“Hell yeah, we’ll play it,” said Kiley of their festival invite. “We saw the lineup and were way impressed.”
The crowd never thinned out over the span of their 45-minute set, and only after they finished did we hear that the line downstairs was starting to scatter. Even the iconic Muppet duo of Statler and Waldorf who overlook the stage (only the coolest decorations in the history of music venues) never left their seats, which is high praise indeed!
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By Ben McNeely
To say the Hopscotch Music Festival is comprehensive in its scope of indie music is an understatement. And to categorize the sound of Hopscotch is downright impossible.
No matter which venue you walk into, you’re going to hear good music.
The most delightful surprise of Hopscotch, thus far, however, is Justin Robinson & the Mary Annettes.
A founding member of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, Robinson left the Drops earlier this year to join the Mary Annettes full-time as the front man. Just as the Chocolate Drops defy convention — playing hip-hop covers in ole-timey fiddlin’ — Robinson takes that conceit — ole-timey instruments meets modern rhythms to form musical goodness — and runs headstrong into the wind, fearlessly.
What comes out is not easily classified, but a beautiful mix of old country and new hip-hop, all channeled through Robinson’s autoharp, the violin and viola of Sally Mullikin and the cello of the newest Mary Annette, Elizabeth Marshall.
With Kyra Moore on banjo and Josh Stohl on percussion and keyboards, the Mary Annettes are powerful force to complement Robinson’s eclectic style.
The quintet electrified the very crowded second-floor bar over the Busy Bee Café. They kicked off the set of Robinson’s song, “Kissin’ and Cussin’,” featured on the Chocolate Drops’ Grammy-winning album, Genuine Negro Jig. The original recording is just Robinson and his autoharp, singing the sinister opening lines, “Now tell me pretty baby, do you think you’re too sweet to die?”
With the Mary Annettes backing him up, “Kissin’ and Cussin’” is transformed into a hip-hop ballad, with the hip-hop groove scratched out on cello, viola and violin.
If it’s called anything, it could be called post-Civil War hip-hop, where modern rhythms are played on acoustic instruments, giving it a rough-hewn, earthy sound.
And Robinson’s influences are played out throughout the set — from old country in the group’s original song, “Devil Teeth,” to even a cover of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” where the disco hit’s opening notes are scratched out on the violin.
With such a blend of old and new styles, it won’t be hard to conceive that, in the near future, Justin Robinson and the Mary Annettes could surpass the Chocolate Drops
Whereas the Chocolate Drops are introducing a new generation of music lovers to the old fiddle and minstrel tunes from the Jim Crow South, the Mary Annettes are taking those long-formed techniques and embracing modern rhythm to create a sound as eclectic as the band itself.
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Photos/Story by Jake Seaton
It was a scene reminiscent of Best Coast’s show at Tir Na Nog during Hopscotch the night of the festival’s christening.
With a line stretching from 14 W. Martin Street to Fayetteville Street, not even some VIPs were admitted into Kings Barcade until some of the crowd cleared from Dinosaur Feathers‘ festival-opening performance.
As someone who was unfamiliar with Dinosaur Feathers going into the show — admittedly, this book’s cover drew my attention, as well as the prospect of catching Lower Dens — I was a bit taken aback at the massive crowd this Brooklyn-based quartet attracted. However, once the ball started rolling, it was clear these dudes knew how to get a party going, and there was no bigger party in Raleigh than Hopscotch.
Bouncing around the stage, Dinosaur Feathers incorporated flashes of the Afrobeat genre reinvigorated by Vampire Weekend. While missing those big hooks that Vampire Weekend seems to have a knack for, the separator here was Dino Feathers did Afrobeat with far less pomp and took cues from the Beach Boys with elaborate Wall of Sound-style harmonies.
As Dino Feathers started to wind down, the crowd finally began to let up, allowing me — and others — to work my way to the front of the stage for Lower Dens’ set. This is a band I’d long wanted to see live. I’ve professed in the past my love for the music coming out of Baltimore, and this is one of the bands that reinforces that appreciation.
Not to mention, Lower Dens has a song called “Batman.” Instant win right there.
Again, I’d never seen Lower Dens live. In fact, I’d never watched a video featuring the band. So when frontwoman Jana Hunter took the stage, I was surprised by her diminutive size, and her deadpan stare while performing recalled Buster Keaton. Despite this, Hunter entranced the audience and commanded the stage much like Ian Curtis before her.
The Curtis similarities didn’t stop with Hunter, however, the band itself felt as though they picked up where Joy Division and subsequently New Order’s Movement left off.
This perhaps was what was most intriguing about Lower Dens as they transported the audience to a time when a majority of the crowd barely even existed.
A little play, a little nostalgia, a great way to get Hopscotch 2011 started.
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Words by Adam Kincaid, WKNC
Photos by Jake Seaton, NBC-17
Some of us have had one of those life-altering experiences; some of us are still waiting for it.
They’re those moments during which time stands still as your concerns float away on a soft and silent breeze, and your mind transcends the physical limitations of your body.
Each and every person is different in how they reach this stage. Some get their kicks from religion, some from nature, others from literature and arts.
I get mine from music.
For me, this past weekend at Hopscotch was filled with those moments. Perhaps it was the amazing crowds at every show, or possibly it was the fact that each and every band was feeding off of each others energy and presence all weekend. Maybe we can attribute it to organizers and volunteers of the event who could not have done their jobs better. It might have just been the beer.
More than likely it was a combination of these things.
I go to live music shows often, usually several a week. I have seen hundreds of concerts of every genre, and I have seen my fair share of incredible bands whose performances and music have made a lasting impact on me. But never before have I seen and heard so many amazing shows crammed into such a short period of time and space.
Groups of different levels of prominence and notoriety sharing space and time, sweat and blood. People from all demographics and social standings standing side by side at every show, cheering on bands they know and also bands they may have never heard of before that night.
Hopscotch was about as perfect as it could be.
In all respects Hopscotch had every reason to fail. It had every right in the world to fall flat on its face. Hyped up for months on every blog and newspaper in the area as well as on local radio stations and by local bands. Many people may have been hesitant to get too amped for a festival that had never been put on before.
Ten dozen things could have gone wrong. But they didn’t.
I think we can attribute a large amount of the success to the huge number of local performers who were mostly playing no further than 40 miles from their own homes.
Bands like The Love Language and The Rosebuds were of course main attractions, but lesser known acts to the an audience outside the state like Max Indian, The Light Pines, Megafaun, Small Ponds — dear God, I could go on and on — were truly highlights for everyone. The music scene here is so rich and diverse and full of exceptional talent that few regions in the nation can even come close to comparing themselves to it. I would guess 40 percent of the bands at Hopscotch this past weekend were North Carolina bands, and each and every one was on the same level as, if not better than the national bands that came into town.
Because of this, I spent the last evening of the festival going to as many local acts as I could.
Day parties were the highlight for many, particularly those who could not afford weekend passes, and Saturday there was almost too many to choose from. It was my goal to hit as many as I could, which was easy enough to achieve although I missed some seriously awesome acts.
Raleigh Times had an all day/night show outside of the restaurant starting at 11 a.m. with Flute Flies.
Unfortunately I missed the Flute Flies, but I made it just as NAPS, was hitting the stage and was excited to see the band for the first time. I was able to sit down with my friends and grab some lunch as the group finished its set to a crowd of playing children and hula hoopers who had taken over the middle of the street. It certainly set the mood right.
The Loners came on next for what turned out to be one of my top performances of the weekend. Eddie Taylor and Chis Jones prove themselves time and time again as the most kick ass rockers in the Triangle as they dived into a lengthy high-energy set of melting guitar riffs and screaming vocals backed by Jones’ smashing drums.
If I had not been eating, I would have certainly been dancing my butt off like a fool.
After that, I headed over to Karen Mann’s “Mann’s World” day party at Kings Barcade, which was decidedly the heaviest of all the shows I saw this weekend.
Make was just starting when I arrived and was another group I had never seen. Heavy metal is a genre I don’t see often live, but when I have come across a good group of the genre, the raw energy and power of the music truly does come through. In a word, Make was incredible. Its bombastic playing style coupled with a spirited stage presence made the show super intense and highly entertaining.
Next I dropped by for the last half of the Embarrassing Fruits set at the Trekky Records Day Party. The Pour House was positively packed wall-to-wall and I was only able to squeeze onto the side of the stage as the trio rocked the crowd through a list of some of its older hits and new tunes.
Sharon Van Etten was up next and it was my first time seeing her perform. Soft and polite, she was wonderful to listen to after a day full of rock ‘n’ roll and was a nice break from what I had been listening to all weekend.
The Pour House was so packed at the end of Van Etten that it literally took me five minutes to squeeze my way out in time to head over and catch The Dry Heathens’ last four songs at Tir Na Nog. What I found was the best crowd of the weekend at the Churchkey Records Birthday/Hopscotch Day Party as The Dry Heathens put the audience into such a frenzy of chanting lyrics and banging heads that I thought everyone inside had lost control of themselves. Compared to the quiet and demure crowd from the Pour House, I was taken aback by the sheer intensity of this new show I had wandered into. I wish I had come in sooner!
Hammer No More The Fingers went on next to a huge crowd that flowed in rather quickly. The band hit it off immediately with Joe Hall’s shredding guitar work and its unquestionable on-stage chemistry. HNMTF is certainly the tightest band in the area and only gets better with each and every show the band plays. I left after five songs, but the group was impressive as always.
The Old Ceremony was just warming up as I rolled up to Raleigh Times and the band entranced the crowd with several new songs from the up-coming album and of course the older fan favorites. The crowd was certainly into the show as I counted at least eight photographers up front taking pictures and nearly everyone on the block either singing along or dancing to the songs.
I missed Kid Future to see Public Enemy and happened to get a high five from non other than Flava Flav himself (along with his personal body guard), but I walked the three blocks back to Raleigh Times to check out another local favorite group of mine, the Tomahawks.
The Bright Young Things was well into its set at Slim’s when I got there, and the only standing room was right behind the band next to the ladies restroom. Besides the fact I had to move every three seconds to allow someone to get by (it isn’t called “Slim’s” for no reason), the group completely rocked and the show-goers went wild at the end of the set.
I left Slim’s immediately to hit up the Pour House where I found The Dynamite Brothers. I had never given the group much of a chance before, but I am certainly going to have to reevaluate that and give their last album a re-listen after the band completely blew me away with some serious high-energy blues rock that left everyone on the floor in awe. Check this band out as soon as you can.
Everyone had high hopes for The Light Pines who were certainly not a let down and never have been. Already a mini-super group of sorts from the Drughorse Collective, these guys are well on their way to the top of our music scene.
Megafaun deserves a huge writeup to fully capture their show, which was by far the best of the day and I know I won’t do it any justice.
There is no other band quite like this trio in terms of ingenuity and sincerity. Each performance is unique. Every comment in the audience gets a response. Every song is different. It never gets old.
Megafaun usually wanders sonically with the band’s acoustic instruments throughout songs, but last night was different. Brad and Phil Cook, and Joe Westerlund were more straightforward in their playing and hit many different songs including a fantastic DB’s cover and an incredible electric rendition of “Lazy Suicide” with HNMTF’s Joe Hall and The Old Ceremony’s Django Haskins. Finally, to cap the night and weekend, the crowd forced the band back out for an encore and Megafaun obliged with an unamplified traditional cover in the middle of the crowd.
Again, perfect.
In the end, Hopscotch could not have ended any better. The entire weekend was a huge success to the festival goers and every single band was terrific. Sign me up for next year already!
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Words by Adam Kincaid, WKNC
Photos by Jake Seaton, NBC-17
Broken Social Scene was always one of those bands I had just heard about and never really experienced for myself.
Having been surrounded by music my whole life they had always been on my list of bands to check out among the many out there, but it had just been a matter of finding time.
That all changed Friday night when they performed in City Plaza as one of the headliners for the festival. Probably giving the best headliner performance of the evening, BSS had already used nine different guitars 1.5 songs into their set. They also brought on a horn section and some more strings onto stage to completely steal the hearts and ears of all who witnessed.
Even for those unfamiliar with their music such as myself, BSS stands out as one of the top two or three performances from the entire festival. I could have listened to them all night.
If you have never seen local favorite Ryan Gustafson you are certainly missing out.
Ryan’s style is a soulful country rock with beautiful and emotional lyrics. His live performances though are what really makes his music stand out — whether he is solo or with a backing band. Fortunately for the Hopscotch crowd, Ryan was in his element with his usual backing group as he played song after song from his 2009 album Donkey that gripped the crowd, who was singing along and pushing to the front throughout the set.
I headed over to Schooner next at Tir Na Nog who packed the place before they even began the show. It is hard to believe this group almost called it quits awhile back as they seemed to be having just as much fun playing their songs as the audience was listening. Always interactive and playful with the crowd, Schooner is a definite crowd pleaser who is always worth seeing.
Last bill for the night was The War on Drugs who I had heard nothing but good things about in terms of their live show. True to the word, the band provided an engaging heavy dose of straight rock ‘n’ roll with a slight folky twist.
Experimental at times and with a ranging array of songs, the Philadelphia group stole the night with a head banging attitude and gritty resolve song after song. It was definitely worth the sweaty and constantly rearranging crowd.
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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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