One WEEKENDers Lolla ride

Friday night posed one of the most important questions of festival: Lady Gaga or The Strokes?

I’m sure the pun has already been made, but this particular night might as well have been called Gagapalooza. The hype manifested itself before the show even began. Attendees were piling up well before the start time of the show, everyone
trying to get as close as they could, anxiously debating the order of the set list.

I don’t really consider myself a fan of Lady Gaga. However, calling this concert “entertaining” is quite the understatement.

I had heard her shows were worth seeing and decided that though The Strokes were extremely influential, as of late they seem rather dead. They haven’t released an album in a long time, I’ve run many of their songs into the ground by overplaying them — and if there is one thing Lady Gaga is, it’s alive. 

In fact, she’s downright thriving.

Gaga’s fanbase was incredibly — almost unbelievably — vast. Boys, girls, men, women and children could be spotted singing along, dancing and even openly weeping from excitement.

It was almost embarrassing to see the dedication of some fans: their clenched fists, the twinkle in their eyes, their jumping and “Bad Romance”-ing

with the artist-crowd interactions.

Gaga, along with performing all the hits, had some messages to preach, too. Themes of acceptance and equality were discussed through her trademark concert mannerism of storytelling.

At one moment Gaga’s voice was soft and nostalgic as a pillow; the next, she would be intimidating her audience through screams and demands for input and applause. The bipolar delivery was cyclically soothing and terrifying, keeping everyone on the tips of their toes.

Though you still probably won’t find Gaga on my playlists, I do not regret choosing her. The theatrical performance was a vibrant, eclectic and epic: a concert well worth adding to the list.

This time, the dilemma for me was between Phoenix and Empire of the Sun. Being both a longtime listener of Phoenix and fan of Wiz Kalifa’s remix of Empire of the Sun’s “Walking on a Dream,” I was torn between the two shows.

Green Day, though, was never really a show I considered going to.

Green Day’s extended career has taken them far from my own musical interests. I have heard “Good Riddance” more times by accident and bad fortune than any intentionally selected song I have ever played. I wanted to avoid it happening again at all costs.

I eventually ended up feeling more interested in seeing how well the danceability (that’s a word) of “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” translated from album to stage.

I was pleasantly surprised. It ended up being quite possibly the best performance of the entire festival.

Lights shimmered and lit the audience. Crowd surfing was casual, and jumping was mandatory. During the last song of the set, “1901,” every quarter note was met with the rain of the entire crowd’s landing feet.

It was impossible not to dance, because even if you did try to remain still, your neighbors would lift you up in camaraderie as the music pulled you out of your inhibitions.

Glowsticks made a noticeable appearance here. The neon rings, thrown and wrapped around wrists, streaked across silhouettes of youthful, dancing bodies like fireflies across tall grasses rustling in a breeze.

Everything was outstanding. It got sweaty, hot and humid, but the audience wouldn’t have had it any other way. Attendees made sure they left every drop of energy at the show, and 10 p.m. came way too soon.

The competing sets to the Arcade Fire never jeopardized my chance of seeing them. There is no way I would have gone to any other set, especially between the other two bands that were playing.

Digitalism would surely have made me dance, but I had to hear “Funeral,” “Neon Bible” and “The Suburbs” performed.

Soundgarden is a band just a bit before my time and taste; the only song I can recall would be “Black Hole Sun,” and its grunge makes me wish I couldn’t.

From the opener to the encore, fans waved their hands and threw their voices, now hoarse from a long weekend, into the sounds of the stage and supporting cast.
“Wake Up” and “Keep the Car Running” were the high points of the set, the notes precise and explosive.

The show was everything I expected it to be and even more.

Arcade Fire put the audience in high spirits and nimble bodies. Their ensemble on stage was full and dynamic; the crowd was responsive and enthusiastic. That combination almost always results in landmark shows — and this was no exception.
What a wonderful way to wrap up the evening and the festival. By the last note, I was ready to call it a night, drained but content.

The bands had some really cool merchandise and souvenirs, but my prize was less tangible.

Lollapallooza’s final hours will be forever ingrained in my concert memory, a monumental performance and the icing on a delicious musical cake.