Bonnaroo Day 1: The Best & the Worst

Passion Pit / Photo by Ian Witlen

Best Argument for the Continued Existence of Hipster Rap: The Knux
Despite nobody being able to tell you what the term actually means, the music of Hollywood-by-way-of-New Orleans duo the Knux often gets tagged as "Hipster Rap." But as far as the sounds the band threw down during their raucous, vibrant set, "great," or "exciting" or "best of Bonnaroo so far" would work just as well. Aided by a DJ, backing guitar player, and keyboardist, MC Rah Al Millio spat rhymes with fierce intensity and trickster charm, while his compadre Krispy Kream whacked out hard-hitting and punkish guitar riffs. OutKast-influenced songs like the caffeine-addictive "Cappucino" and menacingly galvanizing "Bang Bang" were powderkegs of verbal intensity and musical aggression. Oh, and I joined the gang that bumrushed the stage -- so bonus points to the Knux for that. -- DM

Best "Where the Hell Am I?" Moment: Vermont Joy Parade
This Vermont six-piece were crying in unison over a rambunctious clamor of accordion, banjo, and trumpet. Their jug-band music, combined with the lead lass' velvety jazz wail, sounded like it could be the soundtrack for a traveling circus, circa 1920. And they brought the loony, old-time vibe in the flesh, too: The accordionist, looking like a gold prospector in suspenders, tattered boots, and a long beard, introduced the track as being about a "town in west Texas called Lonely Town, population one." The group hooted and stomped around like a bunch of lovelorn drunks, pausing mid-song as a the trumpeter -- in suspenders and a clown nose -- blasted his horn. And the crowd? Girls in homespun burlesque get-ups pranced, as one shirtless dude -- with a raccoon tail and a rabbit's foot tied around his leg, and a collection of forks clanging to his belt -- spun in circles. Welcome to Bonnaroo, population: a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. -- WG

Next Big Thing: Hockey
This Portland, OR, foursome's set at Sasquatch Festival was one of the weekend's best -- but the band's hour-long performance at Bonnaroo's This Tent Thursday night was even better. "I'll do anything that I'm told to / I go for broke," frontman Ben Grubin crooned -- like a much nerdier and much younger Rod Stewart -- on "Too Fake," as his band bounced through their nu-disco and soul sound, led by the driving bass of Jeremy "Jerm" Reynolds. Grubin, who has the tiny frame and playfulness of a 12-year-old smart alec, played to the crowd, strutting the stage in his hipster-meets-jazzercise instructor outfit of skin-tight jeans and blue head band, screaming: "Watch out! / I've got too much soul for the world!!!!!!" He might be right. The packed crowd, many of who had likely never heard of Hockey or listened to their music before (the band's debut drops Aug. 25), were convinced, dancing along in the muddy pools and shouting for more as the boys left the stage. -- WG

	PHOTO GALLERY: The Best of Bonnaroo VIEW >>
	PHOTO GALLERY: Bonnaroo: 25 Must-Hear Acts VIEW >>
	REVIEW: Best & Worst: Day 2 VIEW >>
PLUS: >> Phish Treat Bonnaroo to a Three-Hour Extravaganza! >> VIDEO: Interviews at Bonnaroo

 

Best Toby Keith Impression: Charlie Allen
It wasn't just his black leather cowboy hat and slightly skeezy mustache and goatee combo that caused beefy local country rocker Charlie Allen to remind me of the much better-known Toby Keith; it was the music, too -- a macho mix of Patriotic jingoism and Nashville popcraft. One song -- a loping bit of backwoods funk -- claimed that while, "You can take God out of everything / You can't take him out of me." Later, during a ballad about the hardships faced by Vietnam vets upon their return home, Allen sang, "I was proud to be an American / Even when America wasn't proud of me." But even though the reductive sloganeering was irksome, Allen's sharp melodies and his band's wailing pedal steel licks and surprisingly groovy, popping bass lines displayed a smarts and subtlety not matched by his lyrics. The hit-making Mr. Keith would've been proud. -- DM

Most Convincing Southern Rock from an English Band: Alberta Cross
Wish Southern royalty like Kings of Leon or My Morning Jacket topped Bonnaroo's bill in '09? Well, you can find a little of both in Alberta Cross, a London-bred, Brooklyn-based foursome fronted by Brit lad Petter Ericson Stakee, whose fog-clearing pipes nod to MMJ's Jim James, and whose South-of-the-Mason-Dixon guitar chops recall the Followill Bros. On "Lucy Rider," Stakee -- in a tipped leather hat and cowboy boots, no less -- softly strummed his Fender Telecaster, using his moving, high-pitched voice to lament a love he'll never get over. -- WG