Music Midtown...

AHH, the return. OK, so it was only one evening instead of two and a half days and more expensive than ever. And the line-up wasn’t nearly as diverse as the good ol’ days, what with it being entirely modern rock. Hey, if you can’t keep your finger on the pulse of new music, I’ll see ya in the rear view. Not that I don’t love my dinosaur rock of the ’60s and ’70s. Hell, I’ve got the ink on my arm to prove it. But, I must admit, I only went for three bands in particular:

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Manchester Orchestra

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Local boys starting to hit it big on the alt-rock scene sweated it out in front of thousands. I’ve just recently gotten into this band after having seen them on Letterman and ended up drooling on myself watching their performance with my jaw in my lap. After that, I was fairly disappointed in myself for not knowing more about these guys. Luckily, a buddy hooked me up and I went to the show not quite as ignorant of their sound. A lot of their tunes are light and artsy but with dark lyrics and when you least expect it, they bring the CRUNCH! Not to mention lead singer Andy Hull (who bears a striking resemblance to Zach Galifianakis) straining his voice to the point of shredding vocal chords. They played a set limited to an hour, spanning all of their albums including Pensacola, I’ve Got Friends, and Shake it Out. Next time they’re in ATL/home, I’ll probably be there. If for no other reason but to see Chris Freeman play both keyboards and percussion.

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The Black Keys

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This band has been around for a while but, again, I only discovered them about a year ago. Matter of fact, the near entirety of my last birthday/Christmas list was all of their albums. The duo brought their garage blues vibe full force in front of a packed field in first-time host Piedmont Park. Surprisingly, they pulled out a set of mostly older tunes but still gave the occasional listener that has only heard them on the radio what they wanted with hits from their latest album, Brothers, like “Tighten Up” and “Howlin’ For You.” During one song, leader Dan Auerbach played guitar while also holding a maraca. Not to be out done, stiff-shouldered drummer Patrick Carney used it in his left hand instead of a drum stick (Jablonski... your move, bro!). The good thing about them is that most of their songs are less than 4 minutes each, which makes for a long set list. Due to festival time constraints, I’ll just have to wait until they come back on their own for more tune-age.

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Cage the Elephant

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These guys are an example of the perks of a festival. I would probably never pay a ticket price to see them by themselves, but since we’re both there, why not? I had heard front-man Matt Shultz had a hell of a stage presence, and he does. He’s very energetic and seizure-like, but it does take away from the comprehension of his singing. If he keeps up that kind of activity, he’ll never spiral into being the dreaded “fat, old, rock star.” He may not have to worry about that anyway if they don’t find more range, musically. Granted, I only know about four of their songs, but they all sound somewhat similar. Popularity can be a fickle trend, fellas.

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Coldplay

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“You know how I know you’re gay?... You like Coldplay.” I didn’t stick around for them.

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As I said before, Music Midtown just isn’t the same as it was. No sneaking in liquor to save on over-priced beer, although security was a joke. I could have smuggled in a keg. No piling 10+ people in a suite at the Georgian Terrace across from the Fox. No ordering 18 pounds of chinese food on saturday morning to last the rest of the weekend and having the concierge shooting authoritative looks from outside the room trying to figure out how many people were going to eat all this food that he had to help carry with the delivery boy. No hanging out the window and freakin out Heather. No wandering the halls at 4AM looking for a blanket and having to settle for a robe I found in a closet (still got that puppy). No more meeting new friends that end up becoming life-long friends (what up Daniel!). No more using a part of a festival pole to urinate in public. No more (or skater) festival poles. No more being a drunken buffoon and bothering innocent teens by standing too close during the White Stripes. No more getting lost trying to get back to the hotel and ending up way past Krispy Kreme. Maybe the end of some of these things is not such a bad thing. Perhaps I’m being a little too pessimistic. For all I know, this year could be the first step towards a return to nostalgic normalcy. Dare I dream?