During her songs, Byrne almost seemed to go somewhere else, getting lost in music that was dominated by her smooth, wispy-yet-powerful voice. Even amid the vexing sound bleed from Lucy Dacus, Byrne delivered a fest set that people might not remember, but served as an oasis of beauty and calm.
The world's "best advice giver": That would be Open Mike Eagle, who turned his set into the Pitchfork version of a backyard barbecue. Conversing with the audience as much as entertaining it, the veteran Chicago MC was casual, perhaps too casual, for a major festival.
But his humor and engaging demeanor, combined with the personal detail he brought to songs about his upbringing in the Robert Taylor Homes, kept things rolling. As for the advice, it's hard to argue with pearls of wisdom such as "never buy weed from a guy named Mortimer. Saddest sight: Nobody at the register to vote booth. Pitchfork has had registration booths in years past, but with the mid-terms approaching and politics so much in the national conversation, it would seem like it should be a busier spot.
Don't drink the water: The thirst was real during the first day of the festival. Based on our travels throughout Union Park, it seemed the only available water filling station to be found unless you turned your bottle up to the sky to collect rain water was an old stone water fountain near a tent sponsored by CLIF Bar.
A line snaked around the area every time we passed by. Confused festival attendees even approached the Howard Brown Health's Resource and Response Center asking where to find water. Update: An additional water station was added Saturday near the Green Stage.
The wake, the celebration: Conflicted? Who could blame him? Saba's gone through a lot in his young life, finding himself on a main stage at Pitchfork after surviving and thriving amid the hardships of Chicago's unforgiving West Side. At the same time, he devoted much of his set and his recent album, the brilliant "Care for Me," to trying to find meaning in the death of his cousin and fellow Pivot Gang member John Walt, a stabbing victim in Goose Island's tent was a "real life Tinder" set up, complete with a giant, wooden "Swipe Right!
Curious participants label themselves a seeker or a finder, get their Polaroid taken, and either tape it to a mailbox where lingering admirers would stick their Polaroid with a phone number written on it, or leave a note for someone themselves.
Midway through the day, however, The "Swipe Right! Someone from the Goose Island said they were approached by someone from the OK Cupid tent about the sign. Although neither camp could confirm whether or not the phrase was copyrighted, it was taken down.
Anne Martin, a representative from the Goose Island experiential marketing team, said that Goose Island's tent is now a "beer buddy" finding program, in which seekers and finders can leave notes in the mailboxes for other festival attendees, or leave their number and invite them to share a beer. Bernadette Libonate, the Senior Marketing Manager with OK Cupid, says there is "no story" and could not comment on the copyright debate.
Atlanta alt-country singer Faye Webster has an after show and you can catch a portion of her set before heading over to Waxahatchee's, so perhaps see as much as you can of the latter. The folk-inspired artist's last record Saint Cloud was lovely, and should translate well live with her gentle voice paired with big, passionate guitars. She's another Chicago mainstay, having come up in the city's poetry scene and an active community organizer.
Her voice is gorgeous, and her words are even more powerful, so it's safe to say you'll be captivated by her performance.
Angel Olsen When: at the Red Stage Singer-songwriter Angel Olsen has released a lot of new music in the past few years, including her gorgeous album All Mirrors and a reworked version of it, Whole New Mess —but she's only playing two shows in-person this year. One of them just so happens to be at Pitchfork, so that's all the more reason to see her. Her music and idiosyncratic voice has the power to warm your heart and then rip it out entirely with all of its feelings—and you should absolutely let it.
Their music gets you right in it with its heartwarming messages about chasing optimism in the face of apathy, which comes through in both their lyrics and exciting guitars. Caroline Polachek When: at the Green Stage Ever since indie pop group Chairlift disbanded in , their frontwoman Caroline Polachek's star has only grown. Now a solo pop act, Polachek makes chic, dreamy alt-pop that feels as if its from another realm with her ethereal, high-pitched voice.
She has an eye for fashionable aesthetics that feel just a tad dark in the coolest way, so she'll definitely make the stage her own. The lead single from her upcoming sophomore album "Bunny is a Rider" is a bop, so fingers crossed she previews even more new releases during her afternoon set. Unclear, but this is yet another festival scheduling offense. Both are funk-inspired musicians who likely have some of the same fanbases.
Yves Tumor sounds and performs like a full-blown, futurist rock star, so you should immerse yourself in their live renditions of last year's excellent, psychedelic-tinged Heaven To A Tortured Mind. Especially if you can't make it to see any of the legacy acts on the bill, Yves Tumor is resonant of '70s and '80s icons, making them a must-see. With his eclectic jazz and rap-inspired sound, you can bet his DJ set will be hypnotic. And who knows, maybe Thundercat will come out on stage for a song or two.
Thundercat tends to dip into some tasteful goofiness in his music with his nostalgic sounds and fun lyrics. As does rapper Danny Brown, who spits verses and performs like a stand-up comedian. If it's unabashed liveliness and high energy you're looking for, make sure to get to him at the Green Stage. When: at the Green Stage Whether you can make it to all three days of Pitchfork or you've only got tickets to one, you should make it a mission to see the headliners, who are all women—a true rarity for this and any year.
Want more Thrillist? Playing tracks from EP's "Midnight Moonlight" and breakthrough, the slinky, disco-driven "Crush. It didn't matter. We couldn't agree more. Hip-hop homecomings, sort of: Kweku Collins is mindful to remind his fans that he's actually from suburban Evanston, though he's now ingrained in the fabric of the Chicago scene via his association with the Closed Sessions label.
Smino is originally from St. Louis, but likewise has planted roots in Chicago and recorded his excellent debut album, "Blkswn," in a West Side studio. Their sets presented contrasting styles. Collins was all jutting elbows and knees, flying dreadlocks and gawky earnestness. He doesn't just wear his heart on his sleeve, he has it tattooed on his forehead as he rap-croons a ballad over a lone acoustic guitar and regrets the "Stupid Roses" he sent to an unappreciative lover.
Collins' set-up was stripped down and gawky, not quite ready for the big stage. Smino showed up like a seasoned professional with a sleek band: twinkling keyboards, funk bass, backup singers.
Smino played it cool, veering between singing and rapping about weed and women, dropping in some wordless harmonies with his vocalists, finger snapping and gliding around the stage like an entertainer-artist born to this role. If Collins was the endearing kid next door who tries harder than the next, Smino was the cool older brother who looked like he didn't have to try hard at all to make it all go down smoooooth.
Comedian of the festival: Noname's hip-hop career is proceeding apace, but she also has a future in stand-up. When her audience clearly wasn't up to speed in the audience participation segment of the set, she wasn't having it. In the past Noname could be a touch reticent on stage, in keeping with her thoughtful, poetic approach as a lyricist. But she's loosened up in the last year and built a stronger bond with her band.
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