In 2007, I was blown away by the inaugural Treasure Island Music Festival’s charm. For a first year festival, local promoters Another Planet Entertainment and Noise Pop nailed it, truly pulling off a flawless event with little room for improvement in the middle of the San Francisco Bay. It was not only meticulously organized, well-booked, hassle-free and genuinely delightful, it set a new standard for Bay Area music festivals with its aggressive greening initiatives, incorporation of local vendors and indie crafts, alternating stages, stunning views and big ferris wheel.
Now in its third year, a bit less novel and much more crowded, the sold-out weekend was still an all-around success, thanks in great part to the artists—and the motorized cupcakes and dancing monsters. Carrying on tradition, Treasure Island 2009 dedicated one day to electronic, hip-hop and DJ acts, and the other to indie rock and folk. Due to long shuttle lines on Saturday, I arrived just in time to see the conclusion of Dan Deacon’s Tunnel Stage party. I was surprised by how much energy he brought to his early afternoon set. The line between stage and audience was totally obliterated as Deacon made the crowd just as much a part of the performance as his 12-piece ensemble. Even Girl Talk’s Gregg Gillis was crowd surfing!
Over at the Bridge Stage, fans were crammed in tight and perched in trees for The Streets. “Last time I came here, I jumped off a balcony at The Fillmore. It hurt!” whined main-man Michael Skinner. Despite the Birmingham, UK rapper’s many attempts at wittiness in his stage banter (which mostly took the form of horrid pickup lines), it was his highly rhythmic Brit grime that ultimately won over the crowd. But the combination of Skinner’s accent and attitude felt too much like a bad SNL parody for me to stomach, so I made my way over to the coffee vendor.
DJ Krush’s dark ambient beats reverberated through the damp air to the peace shrine, where I ended up. This Japanese hip-hop pioneer’s genre-bending set started out mellow, but the way he slipped “Hotel California” into a downtempo trance beat woke me right up. Manipulating live samples and effects to create mysterious and often hair-raising moods, his bass-heavy underwater beats built in intensity, and he surprised the audience by creeping into a remix of DJ Shadow’s “Organ Donor.” The Double Dutch game going on right next to the Tunnel Stage couldn’t have been more appropriate for Krush’s rapid-fire finale.
Brazilian Girls. I actually found them kind of refreshing, if nothing else for their ability to float between diverse sounds and languages in a way that was wonderfully disorienting. Adding some much needed femininity to an incredibly male-centric day, Sabina Sciubba was all heart, donning a huge heart over her chest and small one on her backside, and moving passionately about the stage. Starting off their set with the simple pop melodies and high-pitched synths of “Good Time,” this New York-based trio moved into more hyper, electronica beats, cool bossa nova grooves and even a bit of new wave, sometimes in the same song. “St. Petersburg” off their latest album, New York City, was the highlight of the set for me. The contrast between its grounded beat and freeform twists and layers was as surreal as the lyrics “Sundown at midnight / Monkeys applauding / Sunrise at 1:00 / Walking on water,” and perfectly mirrored the spectacular sunset over the Bay. As if that weren’t enough of a show, Brazilian Girls brought members of the audience up onstage for the final song, “Pussy,” with its unforgettable chorus: "Pussy, pussy, pussy, marijuana.”
With the setting sun, things started to take a rave-like turn Saturday night as LTJ Bukem took the stage. This pioneer of jungle music brought more attitude than mood, thanks to MC Conrad, who riled up the crowd over Bukem’s pretty straightforward drum and bass set.
Reflecting the year in events, Michael Jackson got a few shout-outs throughout the day, perhaps the most memorable being “Yo, Michael Jackson, rest in peace” from the Toronto-based remix kings MSTRKRFT before diving into a hyperactive “ABC” with almost completely different phrasing. Continuing the night’s rave-like feel, the Canadian duo head-banged and chain-smoked while remaining intently bent over their table of circuitry. Though they hardly looked up, they flooded the bobbing crowd with enough high-voltage, explosive energy to keep fists pumping in the air as the SF skyline glowed in the background. And when they broke out a “Bohemian Rhapsody” sample, the entire festival glowed. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect segue into Girl Talk.
While his status as a musician is as questionable as the legality of his samples, mash-up wizard Gregg Gillis has no trouble winning over a crowd. Girl Talk shows are collective experiences at their most epic and pop culture at its most indulgent; we can all sing along to “Heaven is a Place on Earth” and go, “Oh, shit!” when Tag Team’s “Whoomp! (There It Is)” gets the Nirvana treatment. Following a Smashing Pumpkins/YoungBloodZ “Today” and Black Sabbath/Ludacris “War Pigs,” it was Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You’ve Been Gone” that made the whole island erupt. And Gillis’ enthusiasm was just as contagious, as, amidst flying toilet paper and what must have been a hundred dancing bodies onstage, he jumped around wildly on the table next to his laptop, ready to explode with excitement. Teasing the crowd with “Shout!” and finally opening up the floodgates for “A little bit louder now!” the day reached its climax with a full-scale fireworks display to Elton John’s Biggie-fied “Tiny Dancer.”
Day 1 could have (and perhaps should have) ended there, as headliners MGMT, with their more organic instrumentation, psychedelic washes and overwrought guitar solos, were a bit out of place and anticlimactic. Announcing that this would be their last show of the year, the East Coast duo played straight through their album Oracular Spectacular, which made for a top-heavy set as all the singles (“Time to Pretend,” “Electric Feel” and “Kids”) fall in the first half. It worked for me, though, because I felt totally satisfied slipping away a bit early to beat the shuttle mob and get to the Great American Music Hall in time to catch WHY?.
While Saturday impressed me with its mix of artists and sounds from all over the world, I was mostly excited for Sunday. When I got there and realized the markedly different crowd and vibe, as well as the serious drop in temperature and high winds, I knew Day 2 was going to be a very different experience. And I was right—but not in the way I’d expected. After experiencing the incredible, wide-eyed “shamanic Arcade Fire” wonder of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, I fell ill and had to spend the rest of the day in the medical tent. Amidst the vomiting, I remember the harmonious chiming of Grizzly Bear was intriguing, the hauntingly beautiful sounds of Beirutwere comforting, and The Decemberists’ heavy guitar riffing was confusing. And while I never want to spend another festival in the medical tent, I will say that it was pretty interesting experiencing this type of behind-the-scenes. (Plus, there were blankets and hot chocolate.)
With 10,000 people in attendance per day, there was actually very little action in the tent on Sunday: a few people had had too much to drink, there was a seizure, a head injury, a woman escaping the crowds to breastfeed. But I was absolutely blown away by the incredible staff of EMTs and nurses there volunteering their time for the Rock Medicine organization. For those who aren’t familiar with Rock Med, it’s a Bay Area non-profit that started in 1973 when Bill Graham asked the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic to staff an emergency tent at an outdoor Grateful Dead/Led Zeppelin concert, and, in turn, pioneered “event medicine.” In addition to carrying such things as band-aids, earplugs, sunscreen and condoms at music events, they treat serious injuries, ailments and issues right there on the spot in their mobile triage area and believe in non-judgmental healthcare for all. If nothing else, I’m happy this experience introduced me to them and the essential service they provide; they’re just as much an integral part of these festivals as the headliners and deserve a great deal of recognition.
So while I was tucked away in the med tent, my friend Jason Pino was able to catch a few of the day’s sets that I missed. This is what he had to say:
Sleepy Sun packed serious sonic punch right out of the gates and never let up even for a second. They dug deep and brought home a heroic dose of psych. Their fuzzed-out wall of sound took my mind, twisted and turned it, never letting me predict a moment. This band truly stands up to all the Bay Area hype!
Beirut played a solid and tasteful set. Zach Condon knows how to write gorgeous, intricate music, and the band was well rehearsed and really captured the sound and feel of Beirut’s records. Condon even added some fun twists to some of his older songs. My only complaint was that he lacked charisma, which made the set a little bland.
The Decemberists completely bored me. I didn’t enjoy anything about their set other than the animations on the screen behind them. Playing straight through their new album, The Hazards of Love, their attempt at heavy music felt like a complete joke. The tones were reminiscent of a modern-day Metallica meets (bad) ‘90s Fleetwood Mac. I was so uncomfortable, I spent most of the set zoning out.
Oh me, oh my… The Flaming Lips! I had not seen The Flaming Lips since 2001, and boy oh boy, I was completely blown away. I can’t believe how much better their live show has gotten. They played an eclectic set of old and new songs, quieting down for some of the hits so the crowd could sing along. “Convinced of the Hex” was a personal favorite—it was as hypnotic as “Mushroom” off of Can’s Tago Mago album. Wayne Coyne really is one of the most charismatic performers I have ever seen. Flaming Lips concert = 21st century symphony.
While I would have liked to have seen these sets for myself, I felt fortunate that I at least got to see Edward Sharpe, whose sincerity stole my heart, and the end of The Flaming Lips, which was complete with confetti, “She Don’t Use Jelly,” “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” and “Do You Realize??” That sort of made it all OK. Wayne Coyne reflected my sentiments about the day, and the whole festival experience in general: “It was freezing earlier, but that doesn’t even matter anymore. That’s the fucking power of enthusiasm!”
[Katherine Hoffert]
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Finally home from a national tour, in support of their self-titled debut (released by 
the pulsating rhythm created by drummer, Alex Kaiser, and bassist, Jason Wexler. At certain points, I had a problem discerning whether or not they began a new song, but this could have been intentional as the set arched smoothly, guiding the audience to the grand finale. And it was apparent that we were in good hands. At the request of singer/guitarist, Tyler McCauley, the audience rocked out extra hard for the final song, at one point breaking a glass-but broken shit is always an indication of great times had by all. Always.
