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Osheaga, Day 2
Featuring the Gaslight Anthem, the Black Keys, the Morning Benders, Sonic Youth and Weezer
Needless to say, he was not singing “Why Bother” (Photo: Nadia Chaudhury)
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Recap of the bands Encore saw on Sunday at Osheaga. Photos taken by Nadia Chaudhury.
There are about a thousand reasons to not like about the Gaslight Anthem—one of which being they’re a bunch of tattooed dudes from Jersey who look like they belong on the Warped Tour (or is that three reasons?)—but goshdarnit, I can’t get enough of their Springsteen-on-steroids anthems. Songs like “American Slang and “The ’59 Sound” are great fist pumping tracks in the vain of “Born to Run.” Oddly, the first mosh pit I saw at Osheaga happened during their set, consisting of a bunch of sweaty, longhaired teens. Odd that they’re playing Radio City Music Hall in September, eh?
Sadly, we couldn’t get too close to the stage for the Black Keys set. Actually, maybe it wasn’t so sad; people should line up early for good groups, and the Keys didn’t let anyone down. For roughly 40 minutes, Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney played a bunch of material from their recent album, Brothers, and every song could have been on the True Blood soundtrack. That is, they sounded swampy and sexy. And all from two guys from Ohio.
In 2010, the Morning Benders played on Osheaga’s smallest stage. Don’t be surprised if they play on the main one in 2011. The Benders played arguably the strongest non-Arcade Fire set I saw over the weekend, and they seemed posed for a Grizzly Bear-esque breakout. They’ve even got their own version of “Two Weeks” with Big Echo‘s “Excuses.” I was able to get within mere feet from the band while they performed; don’t think that’s going to happen again.
I’ve lived in New York City for four years now, and I’ve never seen Sonic Youth live. This was my first time, and not only was it out of the city, but also out of the country. Maybe it was because they played a supposedly fantastic free concert at Prospect Park the night before, but the band seemed mechanical at the beginning of their set. Everything sounded fine, sure, but nothing blew me away; they were on cruise control, a band that’s been doing the same, mostly awesome thing for over two decade. The first eight songs were off The Eternal, an album that’s good, but not great. At one point, my mind drifted to where Sonic Youth ranks in terms of influential New York Bands. I decided they’re third, behind the Velvet Underground and the Ramones. Finally they played something from a different record with Daydream Nation‘s “The Sprawl” and “‘Cross the Breeze,” and I was reminded why I’d rank them so high.
Yes, what you see above is Weezer‘s Rivers Cuomo looking like the Terminator and holding a video camera under his band’s logo. That can only mean one thing: He’s turning the attention on us, the crowd, to say, “Here’s what it’s like to constantly having the public eye on you; now you write another Pinkerton.” Or maybe I’m overthinking things.
Like any other fan who enjoys The Blue Album and Pinkerton (and, to a certain extent, The Green Album and Maladroit), I have a complicated with relationship with Weezer. Well, that’s not fair to Brian Bell, Scott Shriner and Patrick Wilson. It’s all about Rivers, for better or worse. Mostly for worse. I knew coming into their Osheaga set that Weezer would play a lot of Raditude, including “Can’t Stop Partying,” and the other worst song of all-time, Make Believe‘s “Beverly Hills.” But I still held out some hope with the promise of “My Name is Jonas” and “Undone (The Sweater Song).” And I wasn’t let down: Weezer played all the crap they’ve released in the past five years (basically everything after Maladroit), but it was mostly off set by their work from 1994-2001, including “El Scorcho” and “Surf Wax America.”
As for Rivers, well, let’s just say that when I write my unauthorized biography on the bespectacled front man, it’ll be called The Curious Case of Rivers Cuomo. He’s almost literally aging in reverse. And I think he knows it: the cover song he sang was “Kids” by MGMT. When The Blue Album came out, he was introspective and able to tap into what people think about love and relationships and the world turning and leaving us here; now, he rides beach balls, wears a blonde wig to impersonate Lady Gaga, hits rolls of toilet paper into the crowd using a guitar as a bat, humps mic stands and steals baseball caps from the crowd. He’s the ultimate man child—and the crowd ate it up. I’m not blaming them; the current Weezer is a lot of fun in a cheesy, arena rock way, and I will give Rivers credit for giving the crowd everything’s he got, including shaking hands, singing autographs and taking pictures with the audience. But for someone who still wears the same kind of clothes that the band does on the Blue Album cover, like I do, I felt slightly betrayed, in the same way I do with Green Day, too. Which makes me wonder: Is this the real Rivers? Was the “Across the Sea” version the fake, and “I’m Your Daddy” what he actually thinks? Rivers Cuomo is one of the most fascinating artists out there.
