DCist Does V Fest
Compared to past festival experiences, this was the Ritz. Open spaces for relaxing in between sets. Tons of vendors placed all around the venue. More porta potties than I've ever seen in one place (which added up to no wait time for the bathroom). Sure, the beers were $8 -- but they were really big beers. Tables, air conditioned tents, side shows, inflated chairs and cell phone floats for people at large to rest on, and the ability to bring in your own bottled water. The Brits did it right. The stages were far enough apart not to encroach on each other's sound, but not so far that we were ever at risk of missing a set because of a long hike. Richard Branson himself was there, as was Grey's Anatomy's Dr. McDreamy -- though the only DCist lucky enough to see him was Kyle, and he didn't appreciate the encounter quite the same way I would have.
But enough about the set up! What we all really went there for were the bands. It was an impressive lineup that spanned of-the-minute buzz bands, veteran DJs, seasoned touring acts and classic rock icons. Several DCists were in tow on Saturday, so we scattered to the wind to bring you our thoughts on the best and the worst the day had to offer. Because of the nature of festivals -- people catching portions of sets, seeing and hearing different things depending on where they're planeted in the crowd -- we decided to take advantage of our numbers and give individual responses to bands. That's why you'll see more than one DCist's review of a couple of bands -- we wanted to make it as inclusive as we could. If you caught any acts we missed, or have any other thoughts to share, let us know in the comments.
All photos by Kyle Gustafson. More photos and coverage here.
The Raconteurs
I don't think I know enough positive adjectives to throw in this band's direction. In the most simple terms, this is what every rock band should strive to be like. Everything was letter perfect about these guys, even the visuals -- long hair, relaxed t-shirt and jeans apparel accented by vests and hats to give them that natty rocker vissage, and a stable of instruments that probably made The Who jealous. Benson's liquid smooth vocals, Keeler's deft drumming, Lawrence's hard rocking bass and White's overwhelming guitars and front man charisma took control of the stage and the crowd. Not relying on effects or costumes or banter, the band rushed on stage and took their instruments, pounding through their repertoire with the bounce of the Beatles and the grit of Led Zeppelin. A grab-you-by-the guts cover of Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang" and a rousing finish with "Blue Veins" (sung to a redhead hand-picked from the crowd by White) put the cap on this incredible performance. Opinions varried on most performances throughout the day, but all the chatter agreed -- The Raconteurs earned an A+. (Amanda Mattos)
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
The frontman for these indie-rock Brooklynites, Alec Ounsworth, usually walks a fine line between heartfelt and just plain whiny. He gets away with it on the band's best songs, which, driven by a twangy guitar, are irresistably catchy. But Ounsworth crossed that line on Saturday, with eardrum-piercing yelps in lieu of actual singing, and incoherent mumbling in lieu of between-song banter. One witness to this disappointing spectacle declared C.Y.H.S.Y. "everything that's wrong with indie rock." I could only stand still for about three songs before I had to excuse myself to the bar for another $8 beer. (Abby Lavin)
Without a doubt the worst band of the day. They took the stage with pouty looks on their faces that said they didn't want to be there and proceeded to play an underwhelming set of tepid indie rock to a crowd that became more disintersted by the song. (Kyle Gustafson)
The Flaming Lips
Always crowd-pleasers, Wayne Coyne and his crew of Oklahoma rockers put on the most inventive show of the evening, complete with a troupe of dancing Santa Clauses, lingerie-clad models, and a nun hand-puppet used by Coyne to "sing" a few of the numbers. As the last act of the day to take the smaller stage, the Flaming Lips were a more intimate, quirky alternative to the Chili Pepper's super-sized stadium rock taking place on the Grandstand stage. The Lips' setlist spanned 23 years of the group's sparkly, celestial jams, including "She Don't Use Jelly" and "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots." The show felt like a madcap circus, with Coyne as ringleader in his trademark white suit. The band seemed truly happy to be there, and their enthusiasm made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. A perfect way to end the evening. (Abby Lavin)
Never having seen the Flaming Lips before, I was so overcome by the balloons, streamers, scenes projected behind the band and the cast of characters that joined them on stage (from santas and aliens to milkmaids and superheros and just about everything else in between), I barely minded that it looked like Coyne wasn't actually playing his guitar. Did anybody else notice that? Regardless, the band played a smooth, frenzied and unifying set that plastered smiles on every willing face. Singing along with each song, there wasn't a person in that crowd that would have rather been anywhere else (at least, no one standing near me anyway). Hell, they even played a clip of Jon Stewart introducing a performance from the band on what I'm guessing was the shortlived "The Jon Stewart Show." Not to mention a nod to the band's now infamous performance at the Peach Pit Afterdark. Everybody should go see the Lips at least once, because that was a rip roaring good time if ever I've had one. (Amanda Mattos)
Scissor Sisters
It's always a crap shoot when you go to see a band whose sound is largely electronic. How will that translate to the stage? I only caught the last half of the Scissor Sisters' set, but I was wholly impressed. They were ferociously sexy and flashy, but they had the chops to back it up. The instrumentals and vocals were powerful and on target. Clad in leotards and glitter, when they were preparing to announce why they love Baltimore so much, I had no doubt it would be John Waters. And it was. It doesn't take a big stretch of the imagination to picture the immitated fornication Ana Matronic and Jake Shears treated the crowd to alongside something Divine might offer up. (Amanda Mattos)
Along with The Who (wow, going out a limb there, aren't I) the Scissor Sisters put on the best set of the day. They took the stage to "Take Your Mama" and never looked back. They had the benefit of being the first act to go onstage after dark and they used their light show and video back drop to stunning effect. The band are an accomplished group of performers and their set was completely infectious. You couldn't help but have fun.
(Kyle Gustafson)
The Who
What's there to say that hasn't already been said? They're the band that made things like the jaw dropping Raconteurs performance possible. They invented smashing guitars for goodness sakes! The years haven't held Pete Townsend or Roger Daltrey down. They roared through their classics like "Behind Blue Eyes" and "Who Are You" to the biggest crowd any band drew all day. (Amanda Mattos)
Gnarls Barkley
Taking the stage in what they deemed "Chariots of Fire" apparel (which was interpreted as a strange mash up of Egyptian and Greek wear), the summer hit makers put on an energetic set where Cee Lo gave it his all, the strings section played crazy looking instruments and danced in unison, and there was no shortage of party vibes. But... meh. It was a fun set to dance to, and there wasn't anything bad, but coming on after The Raconteurs I could have taken or left it. Much like their album, the high points were catchy, and the rest was just kind of there. (Amanda Mattos)
RJD2
After arriving and seeing the first bit of Kasabian's set, I wandered around the grounds to get familair with the layout of the infield and eventually made my way to the dance tent. RJD2 was already well into his set (even though he wasn't due on stage for another 10 minutes) and was in total "I don't care if it's noon, we're gona throw down" mode. He had a small but devoted crowd going crazy and dancing up a storm when they weren't busy showering him with applause. (Kyle Gustafson)