Thanks to the inevitable cold weather that always rears its ugly head at the most inopportune of times, we’ve got like, 2 weeks to pack in as much festival goodness as humanly possible. Lucky for us, Lollapalooza has made her permanent home right here in our sweet home.
And lucky for our quest and for any music-loving festival-goer, music happens to be that one thing that binds us together. Music, at its very core, brings us together in perfect harmony. Music is the driving force of what makes us unique and the same all at once. Music allows us to transcend the Facebook relationships with long, lost friends and actualize them in a festival setting. Music transports us. Music is the only known time machine. Music takes us high. Music is here in the city this weekend in full force.
Beyond what a review of the music in words looks like, there exists a feeling that will never be legible, will never be transcribed, will never quite…be. It is the feeling of engulfing yourself into the musical festival madness and letting yourself feel one with the universe.
Beyond the nostalgia of seeing Nine Inch Nails and Steve Aoki perform and the insta-classic sets from Queens of the Stone Age (albeit too short) and Crystal Castles; just past the sprawling sets imperfectly laid out across Grant Park and the bumper-to-bumper-traffic-jammed schedule, there lies an intrinsic ability of a festival of Lollapalooza’s magnitude to take us away to a magical, musically united place that only exists for a long August weekend in the otherwise extremely segregated Windy City. Amidst the sea of what may or may not be ironic basketball jerseys checking out one of three hot sets in 24 hours from Hot Chip, a vibe permeates the air allowing us to believe that there just might be hope for a universally sound voice of reason. And I promise you that this ain’t treason. I’m giving it to you straight: the music will be our saving grace. The music might just be our only hope. The music has survived and will continue to survive the test(s) of time. The music is what fuels us. The music is the answer, even if the aforementioned scheduling conflicts don’t allow us to see all the acts on the bill. But it’s a thrill, no doubt.
So shout at the top of your lungs if you too believe that music will save us all. And if the music doesn’t, maybe the food will?
The well-advertised Chow Town looked like the same old setup we’ve become accustomed to year after year, fest after fest…just with some slightly better fare. The employees are always super high-energy and into what they’re serving, but a once over on the actual decor and setup might go a long way.
Green Street has some cool, responsible stuff for sale as well, so give them some love and check them out for sure.
Glastonbury, Coachella, and all the other worldwide well-renown festivals are outstanding, and we’ve got our own scene for the world to come and adore. We’re on an international stage as a city, so show off and soak this shit up, Chicago. Because all good things must come to an end, and winter will be here before you know it.
“One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain.” -Bob
[Photo by Sir]