FYF Festival rocks larger crowds at Exposition Park


FYF Fest took place this weekend in Exposition Park and perhaps more than ever before, this year’s festival exemplified the increasing disparities of today’s ever-expanding musical landscape.

Growing pains · FYF Festival initially began as a much smaller scale event in Echo Park. The festival’s growing popularity enabled it to move to Exposition Park, but there were difficulties controlling the crowd. - Chandler Golan | Daily Trojan

Growing pains · FYF Festival initially began as a much smaller scale event in Echo Park. The festival’s growing popularity enabled it to move to Exposition Park, but there were difficulties controlling the crowd. — Chandler Golan | Daily Trojan

Though the change of venue from the L.A. State Historic Park was convenient for USC students, it also illuminated the crossroads at which FYF stands: between its humble, DIY punk rock beginnings in Echo Park and the massive spectacle of larger commercial festivals more akin to revelries we are so used to seeing at the Coliseum. Whether it was indie versus mainstream, old versus new, analog versus digital or serious versus goofy, the festival — and many of the performers — straddled the line between dichotomous trends.

The biggest story of the first day actually had nothing to do with the music; the subject of everyone’s discussions (read: complaints) was the absurdly long line snaking all around the premises to get in the main entrance. Though some concertgoers were able to sneak in immediately with those at the front, others claimed to have waited up to three hours in the heat just to gain entrance. This prompted the FYF team to send out a message via Twitter and their FYF app saying that scans and searches were happening as quickly as possible, but the message hardly assuaged frustrations. On top of this, entrance to the indoor Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena stage was cut off due to a lack of space (though there was great deal of available seating which had been inexplicably roped off). These problems left a bad taste in attendees’ mouths and seemed to point to the fact that FYF — despite being managed by well-known promoter Goldenvoice — is not ready to be the behemoth that festivals like Coachella and HARD have become.

But once inside, fans were treated to an eclectic array of entertainment. New Zealand native Connan Mockasin started things out at The Trees stage with his unique brand of psychedelic 70’s-inspired R&B mixed with ambient drones and tribal chants. 18-year-old DJ/producer XXYYXX then put on an impressive display of sampled chopped and screwed hip-hop layered under backwards, slowed down vocals. Though one would expect an artist like XXYYXX to be a darling of FYF listeners, the crowd response was weak, prompting him to stop the music and take to the mic to ask, “Can we please act like we’re at a f-cking concert?!”

Norwegian D.J. Todd Terje, on the other hand, had no problem getting his crowd into the music. This might have been partially due to the fact that he played the Arena, which is FYF’s equivalent to Coachella’s Sahara tent in that it is the go-to destination for EDM ravers who want to dance. Still, artists like Terje, with his kitschy, self-aware blend of disco and electronic music, seem to align better with FYF’s aesthetic than the formulaic “build and drop” music of D.J.s like Skrillex or Avicii.

Punk rockers and metalheads alike flocked to the Trees stage the first night for Against Me! and Boris, two bands who are known to pack a sonic punch. While Against Me! proved that their 15-odd years together have lent them a degree of synchronicity, Boris appeared flustered and unrehearsed. They encountered sound problems right from the outset and never seemed to recover. The Presidents of the United States of America encountered similar technical difficulties. In contrast to Boris’ inability to break their dark, brooding personas and fix the sound before the next song, the Presidents stopped to made some jokes while the technicians did their thing before the band continued without a hitch.

For those less inclined toward head banging, Slowdive’s swelling shoegaze jams and Tycho’s mellowed out take on Aphex Twin-esque drum and bass music proved both relaxing and stimulating.

Without a doubt, though, the highlight of the first night was Grimes’ mesmerizing performance at The Lawn stage. Surrounded by smoke, her blue hair and baggy T-shirt billowed in the wind, adding an alien dimension to her already supernatural sound. The first few notes of the bassline of “Oblivion” — the best song of the decade thus far according to Pitchfork — sent the crowd into its loudest frenzy of the evening. Supported by two dancers, Grimes ran spontaneously around the stage, looking more comfortable than ever as performer. Her show was a testament to the fact that it is possible to perform with all of the style and grandeur of a Lady Gaga or Katy Perry while maintaining musical authenticity.

On Sunday, FYF flung open its gates, opened up more seating and gave out free water until 6 p.m. in order to make up for the chaos of the first day. Still, the atmosphere remained noticeably different than previous years. Security guards actually combed through the packed crowds confiscating illicit substances and telling those on others’ shoulders to get down due to safety risks. This practice is relatively unheard of, even at more commercial festivals that make no claims of being underground or edgy. Perhaps it is because they are used to dealing with the 90,000 people who come to the Coliseum on gamedays, but security often seemed to be a little too good at their job.

Despite this, Sunday was a marked improvement. Mac DeMarco delighted crowds with his usual antics: mentioning that Jennifer Aniston was back stage, asking who was excited about Kid Rock’s new album and playing a classic DeMarco tongue-in-cheek cover of Bob Marley’s “Jammin’.”

In a similarly self-effacing manner, L.A.-based rapper Earl Sweatshirt interspersed his raucous lyricism with Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” before asking, “Have you ever been playing FYF and thrown up in your mouth a little? That sh-t is crazy.” Later, after asking who wanted to hear real West Coast hip-hop, he told the crowd, “Shut up. You’re from Delaware.”

Whereas Earl Sweatshirt toes the line between the self-described “ignorant” abrasiveness of Odd Future’s trap bangers and his own brooding poetics, Thundercat and Flying Lotus navigate the intersection of jazz and electronic. Both acts juggled the two roles impressively. Though Thundercat’s brother and bandmate Ronald Bruner, Jr. was not present, the more-than-capable Justin Brown filled in on drums and catalyzed a sublimely improvisational rhythm section.

Flying Lotus (and his rapping alter-ego Captain Murphy) continues to defy categorization. The booming bass and trippy visuals of his show consistently attract the young EDM crowds, but he also incorporates complex polyrhythms and drum samples from the likes of Philly Jo Jones and Max Roach, distinguishing his music from more one-dimensional D.J.s. The crowd was treated to a few previews from his upcoming project You’re Dead!, which sounded like they were taken from the score of a David Lynch movie set in space. The project will feature both Kendrick Lamar and Herbie Hancock. By pushing the boundaries of what it means to be a D.J. in such a way, Flying Lotus (who happens to be the grandnephew of John and Alice Coltrane) is making it increasingly difficult for neo-classicists, jazz heads and purists of all kinds to dismiss electronic music as meritless or superficial.

Since its inception in 2004, FYF has come a long way. Though headliners The Strokes and Phoenix are still technically rock acts, they are much more mainstream than original headliners Wires on Fire and Toys that Kill. If anyone was unsure of just how much the demographic has changed, they would have to look no further than the long line of people waiting to take their picture in front of a big sign that read, “I’m here, where are you? #FYF.” Whether FYF assimilates to today’s festival culture or rejects hashtags in favor of its punk origins in the next few years, this year will be remembered as a turning point of sorts. It is true that you can’t please everyone, but this year’s FYF was about as close as they could get.

 

Photos by Chandler Golan.