Busy P (Ft. Murs) – To Protect & Entertain (Crookers Remix)
The Streets – Blinded by the Lights
This past weekend saw the Bay at it’s best — and by best I mean it was like being cuddled up between two gigantic breasts and peacefully bounced to sleep, all the while looking up at this face that was far beyond any sort of physical beauty.
FMLY Photographer Jesse Fulton got the chance to see that show that the internet had been buzing about. The man apparently broke his (new) camera in the past week and had to rent one, all for the love of music right?
DOOM – Gazzillion Ear (Thom Yorke remix)
Lil Wayne x Thom Yorke x Mt. Eerie – Fireman (Vicious remix)
Thom Yorke – Everything In Its Right Place (live on Johnathan Ross)
This review is a bit different, my camera ran out of batteries half way through the 10 hour bananza so I have very few pictures, most of these are landscapes, people, and the earlier DJs that have been lost to my memory (the long haired DJ and the black and white picture is Treasure Fingures and TC, respectively). I will remember to bring my spare battery next time, sorry….
Comfort is never fully acknowledged yet comfort should be something attached to one’s life, a silent motor working in the background, quietly purring and clicking towards making life a little better.
When a person has never defined what truly makes their life comfortable, it’s like a cigarette burn on the carpet; it’s always there, staring you in the face, quietly laughing at the fact that you’d have to replace the whole damn room to get rid of the single flaw. You can’t just go out and replace a life if it’s lacking in comfort.
If the person does not have an idea of what is comfortable to their lifestyle, well then their lifestyle will not be comfortable to other people. This creates a focus of negative energy coming from one person’s life, sort of like a power plant using more power than it produces – a void stretched to infinity by blatant negativism and the unquenchable thirst that resides with egotism.
Something that I feel brought down the vibe at this years Nocturnal ’09 was the mass migration of uncomfortable people to the NOS Fairgrounds.
Want to go to West Beach Music Festival this coming weekend but don’t have the money?! Don’t you worry, the FMLY’s got your back (or beach). All you have to do is:
Send an email to Contest@thefmly.com
Title it ‘West Beach Please‘
Put your full name in the body and that’s it!
You’ll be entered to win a pair of three day passes to the fest….
I will stop accepting emails Thursday Morning at 8:00am
I will announce the winners come Thursday at Noon…
So a bunch of FMLY friends mobbed FYF fest, formally known as Fuck Yeah Fest, in order to give you an update on the world you live in.
We’re fucking Ninjasonik, we’re fucking Japanther, we’re fucking everybody in this entire place tonight!
-Japanther/Ninjasonik
Photos – Jesse Fulton
Words – Wordsworthe
The Wall – A Vision of the Future – Jump down to the photos if you don’t care.
It’s become somewhat of a cliche in these times to try and be unique, to a point where everyone that deviates from anything considered normal is a ‘Hipster’ and anybody claiming not to be is still labeled as one. But nothing is normal and nothing is unique… Anymore (or was it ever?).
Street Scene was everything I ever wanted in a women and more. She was a well put together, classy, yet a bit messy and bitchy at times. She danced, she smoked, she relaxed, and she was fucking HOT. There’s nothing that I could want that she didn’t give me (besides maybe road head), yet at the same time I was let down in the most measurable way I think it turned me off of her; the epitome of blue-balls.
Friday was PERFECT. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. It started off hot as hell with some world tunes from Extra Golden. Then came the killing of some time wondering about the wide arrange of different stages and vendors.
Remember we said we sent someone to cover Pickathon 2009, well they finally made it back from Oregon thanks to some car trouble and have a rundown of the highlights for you. Enjoy
Pickathon 2009 July 31st-August 2nd
-Claire Costello and Hayden Harrison
Breathe Owl Breathe – Last Dance
“They oughta give out tape for your face and your ass… and there’s beer!”
By the time Sam Quinn of Sam Quinn and Japan Ten issued his face-and-ass-melt warning on Sunday afternoon, it was too late for most of the crowd. Having been subjected to the blazing sun, swirling dust, and the constant sound, sight, and spectacle of Pendarvis farm in all it’s crowded glory for the 11th annual Pickathon festival, our faces had sufficiently melted. While the attending crowd more than doubled from last year, at around 3,000 guests the festival maintains its small and comfortable feel with stages ranging from tiny barns and forest enclosures to the typical stage set. We were instantly cued to this intimate feel when the driver of our “camp shuttle” (actually a John Deere) introduced himself as Eric Schoenborn, brother of Pickathon founder Zale Schoenborn.
Pickathon is appropriately dubbed an “indie roots” festival, as it stays close to its Americana, folk, and bluegrass influences. This is not to say, however, that the festival was limited by its foundations; we saw performances ranging from the rocking, moshing commotion of Hillstomp to the somber melodies of Alela Diane. Pickathon’s crew members, while never betraying it through their easy smiles, had to have been working constantly throughout the weekend to ensure that the sound quality stayed as solid as it did. Perhaps the most brilliant brainchild of Pickathon’s promoters was the double-booking of most of the artists who played, allowing the bands to showcase new material to new crowds throughout the weekend.
Review after the Jump
The second part of this day was the best, it went as follows:
We were required to shut down Hard Summer at The Forum last night by the Los Angeles County Fire Department. They declared the event a “hazard” after seeing concertgoers jumping from the balcony to the floor, along with numerous other potentially dangerous activities. The Inglewood Police Department backed the decision of the Fire Department and assisted in the clearance of the venue.
While we, the promoters, worked with the authorities to consider other options to continue the concert, ultimately they made the decision based on the safety of the concertgoers. We are happy to report that there were no major injuries.
We are offering refunds to all concertgoers.
-The Official HARD Website
anticipation...
The last words said by Hard Officials after a heart wrenching disappointment – HARD was officially shut down by the Los Angeles Fire Department all before midnight.
As I made my way unto the night and into Inglewood for LA’s HARD SUMMER FEST, I could feel the good vibes waving in the air. Candy bracelets here, and fury boots there. The creators of HARD Fest have really built a strong community of loyal fans.
I circled the Forum on foot three to four times, finding lines and lines of people waiting to get in. Finally, I got to will call to pick up my tickets. Now, the wait to get in. In the crowds of lines that didn’t seem to be moving, I suddenly see 50-60 fans jolt in blurred figures right past me yelling, “RUSH!” They took down one of the fences and bum-rushed the security for a quick and easy way in (I was too slow to react with them).
After an hour, “YES I’M IN. Wait, I missed Crystal Castles?” “No worries, but where’s the music? No one is dancing, everyone’s a bit uneasy, how do I get down to the floor?” -thoughts that crossed my mind after two hours of waiting for Chromeo to come on.
In those few hours, I saw how this night folded out…more after the jump
So I went to Rock the Bells Saturday, it was hot. Besides the fact that that statement could work the two ways I wanted it too, there’s something about San Bernardino County in general that usually brings a sepia image of downtrodden industry and smog, not to mention horrendous traffic and douchebags. So when I went to visit San Manuel Theater for the first time in 7 years with this predisposition (last time I was there I was a very young punk kid trying to see the Sex Pistols), I didn’t know what to expect. The place is nestled in a beautiful little park (Pictured below at the Paid Dues side stage). Other than the beauty of the scenery, I have a bone to pick with another aspect of this festival, read the review to find out after the jump. (more pictures too!)
Continue reading ‘these bells be a rockin’ so don’t come a knockin’ (pt. 1)’
Arrival: An Ode
21 years have fallen off my tree
only to allow me just one night of glee
smokey & forlorn, the stools stood in a stolid line
expensive & tasteless, the bar exuded a hangover off cheap wine
the fiery dance of dionysus
led to an amnesiatic sarcosis
not to remember the cab ride I had
nor the flight attendent I made mad
offed two flights
only to make it there before they might
hello chi
oh beautiful chi
don’t be shy
oh beautiful chi
After a rather Fear & Loathing-esque 20 hour road trip from Brooklyn to the middle of nowhere Tennessee, our dusty Cutlass Supreme finally guided us through the gates of Bonnaroo late Thursday afternoon. We arrived to blue skies and unforgiving sunshine, with everyone anticipating the four days of incredible music in store for us while we were setting up shop at our camp.
We finished up just in time to gather our bearings and catch White Rabbits, which got the festival off to a great start. The band played a solid hour-long set, full of new material from their latest release It’s Frightening. Their dual-drum assault brings the group’s live show to life, especially on tracks like the aptly named “Percussion Assault.” I stuck around This Tent after White Rabbits to catch the funky dance punk of Portland’s own Hockey, whose six members turned out a very tight set that had the crowd in a frenzy. I split early from Hockey so I could catch part of Portugal. The Man, a band which I knew absolutely nothing about at the time, but blew me away live. The band plays a raucous mix of soulful indie rock, with John Baldwin Gourley’s dark falsetto providing the perfect complement…definitely a band whose material I’ll be following a lot closer from now on.
After Portugal, I headed back to This Tent to catch my first Brooklyn band of the weekend, Chairlift. By this point the Manchester skies had opened up and were pouring down rain on the swelling Bonnaroo masses. The band benefitted greatly, as people surged into the tent to escape the downpour; the huge crowd fed off the energy, and Chairlift reciprocated with a stellar set of their driving, atmospheric indiepop.
With the storm bordering on a monsoon at this point, I retreated back to home base to rest up for the next few days. I woke up Friday morning thankful our camp didn’t get blown to Oz, and headed back in to catch part of Gomez’s set. Despite the fact that it was early, there was already a large crowd assembled in front of Which Stage, whose Friday schedule read as a veritable all-star lineup of New York artists. Next up was Animal Collective, who played a pulsing set which leaned heavily on cuts from Merriweather Post Pavilion. Despite some minor sound glitches at first, the band did not disappoint. It was during this performance that I really began taking stock of my surroundings, and realized that Bonnaroo isn’t just for the jam band faithful anymore. Hipsters heavily outweighed their hippie counterparts, a fact that didn’t surprise me one bit, considering the lineup.
