KAROLINA WISNIEWSKI
<Opinions Editor>
All Photos by Rob Noehammer
Editor’s Note: The Obiter Dicta doesn’t run in the summer but we couldn’t resist sending Karolina off to Montreal to cover what was perhaps the most well-attended Osheaga ever.
Partially a consequence of its exponential surge in popularity within the last year, Osheaga 2012 can best be characterized by a series of stark juxtapositions: brilliant sets delivered by some of today’s most exciting musicians set against puzzling inclusions like Down With Webster; seemingly endless hours spent in soul-deadening queues only to experience the irreproducible rush of witnessing live music at its best; melting in weather that is “hotter than a hog in heat”, as one of the Black Lips aptly put it, and a mere 24 hours later being drenched, Old Testament deluge style; being simultaneously surrounded by Pitchfork praising music elitists and fratty bros crushing Bud cans on their foreheads.
As my first music festival, Osheaga also provided me with a steep learning curve. I quickly realized that my plan of bouncing back and forth between stages, catching half a set here and half a set there, was completely unfeasible. The two main stages of the festival were located in an open expanse near the entrance, while the remaining three were accessible only by a small path and two staircases. Traversing Jean Drapeau Parc, an exercise that should, in theory, take less than five minutes, often required half an hour. Bathrooms were a scarcity, and unless you were willing to exercise patience and seek out one of the few food vendors that offered something other than street meat, all important sustenance was very limited.
Some have criticized event planners for poor layout (I gave up on seeing any of the bands playing at the Green Stage, the furthest and most isolated of the five) and inadequate preparation for the unprecedented crowds that descended upon Jean Drapeau Parc. Indeed, without a healthy dose of patience and flexibility, music festivals might feel like cruel and unusual punishment. No one loves relying on port-a-potties for three days, or spending hours being pushed, jostled and shoved in a sweaty crowd. However, as is the case with so many things in life, once I adopted an easy-going approach (no small feat for most law students) and was selective with how I spent my time (choose a few bands; you’re going to miss one of your favorites, just accept it), Osheaga was one of the most exhilarating and enjoyable experiences I’ve had in a long time. Despite seeing an upward of 30 bands in three days, none of the acts felt repetitive or redundant. Regardless of individual criticisms or preferences, that in itself is testament to the incredible talent that filled Osheaga this year.
Most Predictably Awesome: Metric
And who wouldn’t be, with the build up, lighting, smoke machines and night-time ambiance working in their favour? I shouldn’t overlook Emily Haines’ excellent showmanship, or the fact that James Shaw was one of the best guitarists I saw all weekend. Just one request: a little less heavy on the Synthetica propaganda, please.
Most Predictably Solid, But Not Awe-Inspiring: The Black Keys
Though undeniably catchy, I remain unconvinced that The Black Keys are doing anything innovative or exciting (with the exception of their rap/rock collaboration album Blackroc, that everyone unfortunately seems to have forgotten about). Their performance was made fantastic by the audience’s outburst of energy and excitement in the final moments of an incredible weekend, and some careful planning on the part of festival organizers to create an interactive light display. Neither, though, can be credited to this unremarkable duo.
Most Heartwarming: Amadou & Mariam
A massive kudos to organizers for booking these veterans of world music and offering a much needed change of pace from the otherwise pervasive indie rock and pop to be found at Osheaga. You know you’ve broken through genre barriers when a jaded hipster in a Justice t-shirt dances with reckless abandon to your West-African worldbeats. Complimenting the performance was Amadou and Mariam’s touching story of meeting decades ago at Mali’s Institute for the Young Blind, getting married, and spending their life making beautiful music together. If that doesn’t bring a smile to your face, I don’t know what will.
Guiltiest Pleasure: Fun.
Though I’m an ardent fan of Bombay Bicycle Club, I showed up late to their set partially because of a sick desire deep down, hidden away in a dark corner of myself that I scarcely admit to: I wanted to see Fun. There. I said it. In print. Their forced sincerity and painfully artificial kookiness (look at my funny outfit! and hair!) grew old really quick, so thankfully, I was still able to catch most of BBC.
Biggest Fail: Dum Dum Girls
Though not entirely the band’s fault, the painful sound check that cut way into their set was a massive downer. When nearly half of a 35 minute time slot is filled with mic tests, it’s difficult to take anything else away from the performance. Still, I remain hopeful that the Dum Dum Girls will return to Osheaga in 2013 and put on the performance we all know they’re capable of.
Honourable Mention: Snoop Dogg (Lion?)
Being 45 minutes late to your own performance is almost as unacceptable as calling yourself Snoop Lion. On the other hand, by Snoop Lion standards, that’s probably early.
Biggest and Best Comeback: Franz Ferdinand
Opinion has been divided on their last few albums, and they haven’t played a North American show in years. Naturally, when Franz Ferdinand were announced as part of the lineup, eyebrows were raised. Never mind the skeptics, though, because Franz Ferdinand proved they had lost none of the charisma and talent that made them successful in the first place. Though I listened to their set while battling shirtless line-cutting bros for the ever-so-scarce sandwich, I was no less won over. There’s something to be said for a band who knows where their strength lies, and Franz Ferdinand capitalized on their tried and tested hits (Michael, Walk Away and of course, Take Me Out), rather than turning their set into a shameless plug for their most recent album (Metric, anyone?).
Honourable mention: Garbage
One of the marks of a great performer is being able to engage audience members that aren’t already fans of your music. You couldn’t help but by pulled in by lead singer Shirley Manson, who, though well into her forties, can outperform many of today’s leading divas. Perhaps even more impressive is Garbage’s staunch adherence to their nearly extinct brand of nineties post-grunge. They are the definition of a group of artists fully committed to their aesthetic.
Weirdest Outfit: The Weeknd
A camo vest? Really? (Great performance, otherwise.)
Most Likely to Succeed: Charli XCX
There was lots of talk surrounding the lack of superstar headliners at this year’s Osheaga. Instead, festival organizers focused on stacking the lineup from beginning to end with a mix of tried and true favorites, purveyors of radio friendly Billboard hits and exciting up-and-comers. Falling into the last of these categories, Charli XCX showed everyone how opening a music festival is done – no matter the early timeslot or meager turnout that more self-important artists might have taken as an insult. The 20 year old Briton’s darkwave synth-pop provided for a dynamic and energetic set, culminating (though not closing) with a solid performance of the catchy Nuclear Seasons. Though she did seem slightly less polished than some of the more seasoned acts, this can be chalked up to growing pains that are sure to dissipate soon.
Least Interested in You: The Walkmen
“We’re The Walkmen, and we’ve come a really long way to be here with you”. Farther than Amadou and Mariam’s home country of Mali? Thank…you, I guess? These were lead singer Hamilton Leithauser’s opening words to the audience, and sadly, their condescending and arrogant tones were reflected in the remainder of the band’s set. It was difficult to shake the feeling that The Walkmen weren’t performing for the audience; they were deigning to show up at Osheaga, and you should feel privileged to stand before them. Shame, because the band’s musicality is stellar, and to say Leithauser’s vocals are powerful would be an understatement.
Most Emotional: Florence and the Machine
Florence Welsh specializes in her own brand of epic, sweeping orchestral pop. I was unfortunately buried far back in the crowd for this act, and being neither particularly tall nor patient, I didn’t make it to the end. But even judging from the pixilated jumbotron, it was inescapably clear that the band put its all into the performance. I thought it might’ve been a challenge to conjure up the ambience needed for the songs to translate. I was proven wrong, as were the critics who’ve given the band’s sophomore release a lukewarm reception; it was many of the tracks off of Ceremonials that the audience responded best to.
Most Keyboards: Passion Pit
TWELVE. There were twelve of them. Of course this was impressive, but it would likely do little to convert Passion Pit’s critics. The divisive effect of the band’s saccharine melodies and lead singer Michael Angelakos’ recurring falsetto is undeniable. Whichever side of the debate one identifies with, Angelakos’ well documented struggles with mental illness lent his performance an immediately palpable tension and honesty.
Best Band to People Watch To: MGMT
Among other things, this performance renewed my appreciation for the hilarity that ensues when a group of people are all languishing in the effects of various mind-altering substances together. By leaving out their most obvious and famous track, Kids, MGMT turned our attention to their more experimental material, asserting that their identity extends beyond radio friendly synth-pop.
Best Napping Soundtrack: City and Colour
Maybe it was the rain, or the fact that the audience had been waiting all day for the highly anticipated performances that were to follow, but judging from the palpable lull, I wasn’t the only one who spent City and Colour’s set daydreaming about the return of Alexisonfire.
Honourable Mention: Sigur Ros
Though I have nothing against Sigur Ros, the band was an incredibly awkward lead up to the seizure inducing and head thrashing performance Justice put on.
Most Bruise Inducing: Black Lips
In retrospect, watching the Black Lips carry around a bottle of Jameson while setting up should have tipped me off. Alas, as I stood in the wooded clearing of the Trees Stage, I had no idea that the guy next to me was about to rip off his own shirt shortly before finding a new home for his elbow (the side of my head). The Black Lips know nothing if not how to work a crowd, and their energetic performance spawned one of the most, er, lively mosh pits I’ve ever seen. Sharing their beer with the audience (via throwing cans, as well as spitting all over the front row) didn’t hurt either.
Biggest Disappointment: Young Galaxy
Many refer to them as the most underrated band in Canada. There’s something about Young Galaxy’s synth-pop that feels very of the moment. Ethereal and uplifting, the instantly catchy We Have Everything draws parallels with M83 or a less annoying Temper Trap. But something just didn’t click during their performance. Maybe it was lead singer Catherine McCandless’ inability to fully commit to her pixie-goth onstage persona, or the unripe songwriting, which left much of the set feeling like filler.
Most Trill: A$AP Rocky
I don’t know much about A$AP Rocky. I know he played JFK to Lana Del Rey’s dual Jackie O/Marilyn Monroe in her National Anthem video. I know he’s “trill” and a “pretty motherf*****” (because he reminds me on every track). I know that Pitchfork and Wu-Tang loving gangstas alike fawn over him. I know he’s got his finger on the pulse of the new wave of hip hop and R&B (along with The Weeknd and Frank Ocean) which blends pop cultural trends in a heretofore unprecedented way. I know he wears shirts covered in Andy Warhol prints. I know he enjoys making references to sipping sizzurp at live concerts and isn’t afraid to dive heard first into the audience. I guess all that’s enough to tell me that he’s pretty awesome.
Most Endearing Onstage Presence: Dan Mangan
Dan Mangan couldn’t stop smiling as he played his set. He apologized for not speaking to the crowd more, since the festival imposed such severe time restraints on performers. Still, he found time to come down and shake hands with the front row. He invited his most enthusiastic fan onstage and hugged him. He apologized when he didn’t have a set list to give out. He watched on from backstage as heavyweights like The Shins performed, sticking around hours after he had finished his own set. By the end of the day, he felt like everyone’s best friend.
Honourable mention: Of Monsters and Men
Judging from the uproar it elicited, Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir had the audience in the palm of her hand when she proclaimed in her charming Icelandic accent: “You are so many! Thank you!”
Best Use of Props: Chappo
My words would fall hopelessly short, so let’s quote the band on this one: “This is the debut of our volcano [pointing to a massive, black triangular mass decorated with gold and silver squares]. It’s an underwater volcano. We’re not underwater but you have to imagine it…collectively. Or individually. I don’t know; I just make stuff up on the spot…This is also the debut of seahorses. Underwater seahorses. They don’t exist on land. This is a song about…a shape shifter falling in love with an underwater siren” [cue dancers dressed as nymphs prancing around with cardboard cutouts of waves]. And this was all before the hula-hoop sized dream catcher.
Most Confusing Bout of Crowd Surfing: The Shins
I’m currently developing an extensive research project that will seek to prove the following hypothesis: Caring is Creepy is the least logical song choice for crowd surfing (surpassed only by The Hokey Pokey and Franz Schubert’s Ave Maria).
Biggest Improvement: Santigold
Despite my highest hopes, I was underwhelmed by the end of Santigold’s first song. Her highly stylized act didn’t fit with the festival setting, and the choice to play LES Artises, Creator and Say Aha all within the first half gave the impression that she was too eager to please. However, once she focused on material from her sophomore album, Santigold performed with such energy and near-flawless execution that she soon had everyone’s attention. One of the great things about live music is how quickly a performer can turn a mediocre concert into an outstanding one, just by committing. As she closed her set, powering through the last few bars of Big Mouth, it was inescapably clear: Santigold had stolen the show.