I believe in my heart that every human being possesses the same intrinsic value and should have the same rights, access, and visibility as any other member of the human race. It’s why I was pleased to realize that so many of the sets I caught on Saturday prominently featured women. It’s also why I felt a bit irked when I overheard a group of people complaining about the seemingly disproportionate number of high school kids running around Zilker Park all weekend. I try to avoid ageism.
However, my tolerance approaches a line where I can’t help but cringe every time I hear underage girls dropping the names of their, presumably, daddies or daddies’ buddies to gain access. I’d like to believe it’s not ageism; rather it’s the entitled desire for special treatment that bugs me. Why are there so many rich young girls at ACL? I’m going to spare you my wonderings over the mysterious homogeneity of the patrons in the Platinum VIP viewing area where the demographic is almost exclusively thin, beautiful females between the ages of 16 and 25 (being blonde doesn’t hurt) starting right now. Yes, some of these young women need a role model–a strong, independent woman to let them know they don’t have to ask for special treatment or worse objectify themselves for it–to let them know that if they want to get somewhere, they can achieve it with their self-reliance and hard work. I believe (and hope I’m right) that the kind of person who rides the coattails of a parent to the VIP section will never stand on the stage.
Saturday at ACL 2014 offered a number of such role models, and an impressively diverse array of them at that. From freaky-weird to freaky-sexy, avant-garde outsider to mainstream pop fixture, these women wield their confidence like a weapon and aren’t afraid to embrace their identities onstage. With her eschewing of traditional fashion and embracing of avant garde forms of beauty and gender, Tune-Yards’ Merrill Garbus stands at the fore of the cadre of women who played ACL’s second day. Her musical project uses deconstructed interpretations of pop songs to create bombastic, explosive, and frenetic works that feel simultaneously challenging, fresh, and sugary sweet. After Garbus self-released her early work and then passed through small West Coast indie imprint Marriage Records, it’s good to see her band getting national recognition and playing prime festival slots.
The next act to grace that same stage was Australian rapper Iggy Azalea, who came to the U.S. when she was just 16 before eventually landing an endorsement from Atlanta rapper T.I. and ultimately exploding into mainstream success. It may seem strange for these two acts to have been placed adjacent to one another, but something about it made complete sense to me. Even the color palettes of their outfits bore a striking resemblance. Azalea works her sexuality fearlessly, sporting a tiny skirt with a body suit and flesh colored fishnets while spitting some fierce bars. Onstage, she’s flanked by an entourage of female dancers; no men in sight. I notice that the crowd, too, is about 80% female. I’m still not convinced by all the signals being sent, particularly those regarding materialism, but the bravery and determination of Azalea’s story work as a clear inspiration in what has been a man’s world. Festival organizers realized too late that the stage was too small to host the hotter-than-hot Azalea, as the jostling and pushing in the crowd during her set bordered on dangerous.
If neither of these paradigms suits to light your own path, consider the less extreme Poliça, who I caught earlier in the day. Fronted by Channy Leaneagh, whose velvety vocals provide structure for the songs, the band owned their brand of ambient, brooding synth pop even in the burning gaze of the mid-day sun. Onstage, Leaneagh seemed lost in her own daze; she’s clearly the centerpiece around which the remaining members of the band revolves.
I also caught a few songs by experimental world electronic band Beats Antique. While the music doesn’t do it for me (at all), one can’t help but be captivated by the hypnotic belly dancing of Zoe Jakes, which plays an integral role in the band’s live set. Jakes is graceful yet raw and powerful as she brings the electronic, acoustic, and tribal sounds of Beats Antique to life with the grounding reality of her physical movements. Clearly, music needs women like Merrill Garbus, Zoe Jakes, Channy Leaneagh, and Iggy Azalea, but so does the world at large. After all, I strongly suspect that it is not only their creative approach to art, physical abilities, or brazen sexuality that defines them; rather, these are symptoms of deeper qualities such as self-worth, confidence, and intelligence.
The men of ACL’s second day didn’t get pushed aside, with indie giants Interpol and Broken Bells (featuring the Shins’ James Mercer and producer Danger Mouse) both performing excellent sets. Touring behind a new full-length just out, the recently reunited Interpol played songs new and old, sounding impeccably tight. While I dug some of Paul Banks’ solo work, he never seemed confident during solo live shows. Back with his band, Paul Banks and Interpol are the forceful indie-rock juggernauts they always were and sound outstanding rocking through hits like “Say Hello to the Angels.” The set consisted of mostly new material, which I personally think deserves a little more credit than it’s been given. It isn’t Turn on the Bright Lights, but it doesn’t have to be.
Broken Bells performed one of the most under-discussed sets of the weekend, full of perfect melodies and a chic, futuristic stage show. Under pulsing lights and in front of otherworldly screen projections the duo of James Mercer and Danger Mouse. The group kept the crowd enrapt by holding onto hit “Holding on for Life,” while delivering a succession of individual proofs of their prowess at creating funk-tinged pop numbers. Atmospheric and dancey, these tunes were the prefect soundtrack for the dusk of day two.
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