FYF 9/4: Festival of Eternal Lines

I’ve never been to a music fest in LA before FYF, and so far, I’ve definitely got issues. I’ll concede that FYF can orchestrate a fucking kickass lineup. No questions about that, but holy shit I was not prepared for the seemingly blasé attitude this festival was conducted with. It’s like while planning it, everyone suddenly had a stroke and died. I mean, is this a music festival or a bunch of bands playing in a DMV in N. Korea?? I can only compare this to the festivals I’ve been to in SF, such as Outside Lands and Treasure Island, where they not only let you bring your own water, but also alcoholic bevs and food! Ass-kicking awesomness, right? Contrarily, FYF banned everything from bringing water to open cig packs and then decided to financially rape everyone with $4 bottles of water on the hottest day ever with not a square ft of shade and like 5 water vendors for the whole festival. On top of that, the will call line was, from what I heard, upwards of two hours long and the lines for everything else (i.e. bathrooms, food, water, beer, etc.) were pretty ridiculous as well. To add insult to injury, the beer garden and VIP lines made you scan your license EVERYTIME you went in so…please stab me while I’m waiting in yet again, another epic line. It was basically a festival of lines.

Photo: Edward John Castillion

As for the music, I pretty much loved every band I saw – major points for that. I got there right as Best Coast started…commence me creaming my pants for the consecutive half hour. I don’t care what anyone says, Bethany Cosentino, front woman for my current life obsession, is the coolest chick ever. I pretty much love everything about her and our babies would rule. I mean who else can make singing about cats and missing your ex boyfriend sound hip and fresh again? Also, hell fucking yes, Bobb Bruno, for being just a total G in giving me a sound that I want to wake up to, and go to sleep to, everyday. It was the perfect antidote to the shitshow entry fiasco: good ol’ ultra pop-y, lo-fi, happy, surf rock. Add sun and a healthy buzz and say hello to me being in heaven.

I managed to catch the end of Thee Oh Sees, an SF band that I actually love, but alas, it’s just not possible to see every band’s complete set at a festival (unless you’re at Treasure Island) but at least I got to see them rock out for a few songs. Titus Andronicus was a total revelation. For some reason I was not expecting to like them as much as I did, but they’re much better live in my opinion. Scratch that, they’re amazing live. And Washed Out created the perfect chill sesh for everyone to light up whatever joints, bowls, etc. they managed to smuggle in, in spite of the Nazi-like security force.

Photo: Michele McManmon

A major highlight was Dead Man’s Bones, who are quite possibly the cutest band ever. When I heard the name Ryan Gosling, I was slightly confused, and then slightly skeptical. Queue the adorable little dead historical figures, who I’m assuming were disguised members of the Silverlake Conservatory Children’s Choir (who recorded with Gosling and Zach Shields on the self titled record), piling up on stage with their bright smiley faces and whimsical costumes, resulting in my heart melting into a puddle on one of the few patches of grass. While I tend to consider the combo of little kids and indie rock as a tinge gimmicky, Dead Man’s Bones directed the choir in interesting and unique ways to really elevate them into the stars of the show. Plus, who can resist cute little kids singing catchy indie hooks and partaking in awesome dead historical figure costume contests? I thought Kimya Dawson might have killed it for me after she invaded the world with her brand of cutesy preschool sing-along sounding folk but apparently not. And if that wasn’t enough, they evidently travel with a vaudevillian paper cutter who presented the audience with a piece of paper shredded with the name of the band before commencing the musical portion of the show.

photo: Michele McManmon

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see the headliners due to me not wanting to limp the hour and a half pilgrimage back to my fucking car parked downtown, so I got a ride with some early abandoners. Thank you, lifesavers! Sidenote: am I a grandma now? No food (on principal, because I refuse to pay like $10 for a hotdog), no water, walking around all day in the sun with no shade, being vertical for 12 hours…because I swear this sounds like a hardcore marathon in the Gobi desert rather than a music fest. Do I need to, like, start training for this shit next time?