For people outside of LA, FYF Fest (formerly Fuck Yeah Fest, but they still opted to keep that second F á la ITT Technical Institute) is like the marijuana to Coachella’s heroin—everybody feels great, even if they get a little dehydrated, but absolutely nobody feels like they will possibly die. Me? I’m lazy. FYF is less than a mile walk from my house in downtown LA, whereas Coachella is in the fucking desert. And despite FYF suddenly rivaling Coachella’s size circa 2009, Sean Carlson, the young organizer and music super-fan, says that if you write to him from the website, “All the emails go to my phone, and sometimes I spend like three hours just responding to emails, but that’s one of the best parts about this festival, that there’s a person or a group of people who are actually there behind the scenes. Not just a corporation.” At the end of our talk, he even gave me a list of the city’s best vegan restaurants. Christ, people here are so fucking nice.
This year’s big sponsors seemed to be a sunglasses company called Chili Beans, Sailor Fucking Jerry’s, and a tech and a data storage company called Seagate. Chili Beans had women dressed in spandex hot pants, spraying people with what looked like a fire extinguisher mister…or a Proton Pack. Either way, it was hot, and one of those poor girls had to dance outside of a sunglasses trailer for the duration of the festival, while people went, “What the hell is Chili Beans?” Oh, branding, you’re hilarious. But because it’s L.A., everyone was adorably sweet to the Chili Beans girls, even giving me shaming looks when I mentioned that if you stood behind them when they shot out mist, their butt muscles clenched. What? It happened. Anyway, here are a few quick reviews of the shows I saw in bullet form on a scale of Nice:
Videos by VICE
•Lovely Bad Things: these guys played one of the earliest set times and still got bloody knee-sliding across the stage. Later when we spoke, they gave me a bottle of Sailor Jerry’s rum and a PBR and assured me that they would all dress as Andrew WK for their Halloween show. I actually said the words, “You guys are so… lovely!” before I remembered their band name. I felt fucking inspired after hearing them talk about their super-fandom and stalking David Cross and J Mascis backstage. Jesus, they’re nice.
•Kishi Bashi: classically trained violinist who listens to dance pop on the road, this guy gave me refuge when I thought I couldn’t hear one more goddamned synthesizer. He’s a musician’s musician, whatever that means, but if he tours with the film component to his set, it should be epic. Dude even gave like a little half-bow at the end of his set. He’s so fucking good that I got self-conscious when we talked, because everything I usually write about is shitty. So fucking nice!
•Cloud Nothings: For a guy who looks like a graduate student in poetry, dude from Cloud Nothings rocked. When I asked him how this new album fares against the last few, he looked at me like I was retarded and said, “It’s better. What do you want me to say?” Touché, Cloud Nothings! Also, thank you for being from the Midwest; your honesty is refreshing, and I feel like we could really share a casserole together. NICE!
•Chromatics: look, you guys are great. I love your music, despite your having just released remixes of the Drive soundtrack, and I think you’re one of the best working bands out there. Even keyboard/synth guy is always dancing on stage. Really, though, I just want for you to change your name to something else for this album, then go back to your old band. But whatever you decide is fine with me. Just give me a chair to sit in for the first half of your show if we’re gonna do this mellow dancey stuff. Nice????
•Neil Hamburger and The Eric André Show: Neil Hamburger’s repeatedly making outdated Britney Spears references and belittling of cell phone photographers are only two of the many reasons I love him. Eric André interviewed Octomom while his intro music played at maximum volume, drowning out absolutely anything she could have said, until he played a song from her new album and forced her to dance before she was led off stage. Wow. Later, there was milk. These people may or may not be nice.
•Ceremony: you guys told me you hate it when people write about how your sound has changed, because you think it’s a bullshit frame of reference around which a writer is shaping her story. I asked you about how your music has changed. I also think I’m a bullshit music writer. You guys were super-nice.
•Nick Waterhouse & Allah Las: I shared ice creams with the Allah Las, and they told me they do, in actuality, own the green van in their promo photos. When I talked with their producer—also one of the most polished acts in the FYF lineup—about his album photo, Nick said, “I don’t like it when everyone’s focusing on me, talking to me about myself, or analyzing me,” which is apparently why the photo is in profile, swathed in dreamy shadows. Next time you see his album cover, just think of how much that guy is sweating bullets hating what he’s doing in that photo. A fucking 12 on the Nice Scale!
•Future Islands: wins the award for craziest fucking fans. Standing in front of me was a skinny British kid in an XXXL short-sleeved button-up with two boxers painted on the back, just off-center. He spoke on his cell phone for the first song, screaming about how great Future Islands is. Then about six bong rippers next to me started noodle-dancing, while the singer crooned theatrically about what I can only assume is a bunch of stories about elves. My boyfriend said he’d never heard such a great pep-talk in the form of song. I’m pretty sure there were a lot of widows in that audience. How nice of them to entertain us.
•Liars: shit got dark. Well, the sun went down, but Liars has consistently gotten more silent-creepy in their shows over the years. Upside is: Gregorian chant? Not so intimidating anymore. And isn’t that just perfectly fucking nice?
•Dinosaur Jr.: inspired me to grow out my hair, so I can look witchy when I’m older. I’ve never been so happy in my life. Gosh, you’re so nice.
•King Khan & the Shrines: it was like Ian Svenonius gained a hundred pounds and turned all his gold lame dishtowels into short shorts. And horns. Probably very nice.
•Fucked Up: I kind of don’t understand what’s going on with these kids, but I love that they gave their bald uncle a job. He’s the Santa Claus of screaming, bringing joy and broken jaws to all the children. I hear he also reads to kids (read: really fucking nice).
•HEALTH: NICE HAIR!
•Turbonegro: Happy Tom spoke to me at length about eating tape worms to keep thin like Maria Callas did. We bonded over loving the Great Lakes. I can’t for the life of me get through one of their albums, but I’d probably pay a great amount of money to see Happy Tom live, even if he was just describing his favorite cats in a sailor hat and eyeliner. His niceness and Midwestern/Texas/Norwegian charm has destroyed me.
•David Cross & Maria Bamford: David Cross has a fiancé now. Still fucking funny, but now I feel like he’s entertaining guests at an intimate candlelit BBQ. I want Maria Bamford to be a judge on America’s Next Top Model. The only other person I know who can give you bizarre life advice that totally makes perfect sense in the moment other than Tyra Banks is Maria Bamford, so follow that line of logic to the end. Lovely Bad Things said David Cross was nice. I’ll trust those guys. No word on Maria Bamford, yet, but rumor has it she’s selling private comedy shows in your home on eBay, which could either mean she’s interested in your snacks, or she has time to kill, and she REALLY WANTS TO SPEND IT WITH YOU!
•Lightning Bolt: not nice at all; best show of festival. Correlation? Not sure.
Photos by Josh Steichmann
