Recap Pitchfork Music Festival 2009

The annual Pitchfork Music Festival started four years ago as a monument to bands that have amassed enough buzz and critical attention to be considered not only worthwhile but also relevant—and this year was no exception. While this year's gathering in Union Park was packed with lots of noteworthy acts, not all of them were created equal. Here's The A.V. Club's take on which were the standouts, and why.

The Flaming Lips
Reason: Mastery of the spectacle
Perhaps the most anticipated gig of the entire weekend kicked off with what might have been the oddest band entrance ever: A door opened in the middle of a stage-sized screen, which at the time was showing video of a woman's bright white vagina, and out popped the Lips; oh, except for frontman Wayne Coyne, who was in a plastic bubble that rose from the stage floor and made its way out to the crowd. The rest of the set was punctuated with orange and yellow balloons, hordes of dancing fans in animal costumes, and (a rumored $5,000 worth of) confetti. That's not to say the spectacle distracted from the music—which hit the band's all-time audience favorites, including "She Don't Use Jelly", "Fight Test", and closer "Do You Realize??"—but rather it gave longtime fans, tired from standing for nearly eight hours straight, an invitation to marvel.

Pharoahe Monch
Reason: Redeeming hip-hop at Pitchfork
After a disappointingly, though not necessarily unexpectedly, lackluster performance from DOOM—which had some accusing the rapper of lip-syncing, or worse, sending in a masked stand-in—Pharoahe Monch was the last hope for hip-hop-heads at Pitchfork. And the Queens MC brought it, hard, with a high-energy set complete with turntable pyrotechnics from DJ Boogie Blind of The X-Ecutioners and vocal volleys from a couple of backup singers who threatened to steal the spotlight. But Monch brought it all together with his stuttering, syllable-shredding flow—which, judging from the bulging vein in his neck and a couple of flubbed lines that were good-naturedly acknowledged and repeated, was most certainly not lip-synced. By the time Monch and Co. returned for an encore performance of his 1999 hit “Simon Says,” the crowd was more than happy to “Get the fuck up!”

Matt & Kim
Reason: Orthodontic pride
Matt & Kim delivered more energy from a couple of stools than many of the weekend's bands did with the full freedom to move around and dance onstage, sending the packed afternoon crowd into an all-out frenzy with numbers like "Yea Yeah" and "The Final Countdown." The credit largely goes to drummer Kim Schifino, who grinned nonstop like a fucking banshee while wailing on the drums. Seriously, it's as if she was channeling the hyperactive pounding of an 8-year-old whose constant begging for a drumkit all year has finally paid off. Her obvious joy (and rapport with Matt Johnson) pulled up our collective mood and sent us into The National with nothing but renewed love for the fest.

The Jesus Lizard
Reason: His body may age, but David Yow’s sardonic malevolence is eternal.
Try as he sort of has to move on from the band that made his name, David Yow belongs in The Jesus Lizard, the sludgy, gut-punching post-punk outfit from Chicago that was one of Touch And Go’s standouts in the ’90s. Yow was its cantankerous, outrageous frontman, and Friday night proved he hasn’t mellowed during the decade since The Jesus Lizard’s final show. As the newly reunited original lineup took the stage to thunderous cheers, Yow—wearing a Hot Doug’s T-shirt—scoffed, “Shut up! C’mon, for crissakes. Another day, another dollar.” Yow was hardly blasé, though: He leapt into the crowd immediately and spent most of the band’s set writhing atop of it. As a band, The Jesus Lizard gave reunions a good name—the quartet was as tight and confrontational as ever. Mark your calendars now for pair of upcoming shows at the Metro Nov. 27-28.

Frightened Rabbit
Reason: Turning “The Greys” into sunshine
Frightened Rabbit coaxed the sun from the sky with its early-afternoon set, which is strange considering the Scottish band’s fondness for all things gray. The final song of its blistering set, “The Greys,” goes: “What’s the blues when you’ve got the greys?” But there is a brightness to Rabbits' depresso lean, even when singer-guitarist Scott Hutchison is singing about modern lepers and rolling-off heads. The band stuck mostly to songs from its utterly essential 2008 album, The Midnight Organ Fight, taking those songs for a victory lap before reportedly starting work on a new disc.

The Thermals
Reason: '90s covers
A lot of people's ears probably perked up with nolstalgia early into The Thermals' set when they realized that, yes, the Portland-based trio was playing a Nirvana song. And not just any Nirvana song, but the rarity "Sappy," which was unlabeled but still tacked onto the end of the 1993 compilation No Alternative. The Thermals didn't wuss out on the song, either, handling the criminally catchy verses with as much aplomb as they did the formidable and lengthy solo. It shouldn't be too shocking considering they got their set rolling with Sonic Youth's "100%," but The Thermals devoted a quarter of their precious Pitchfork set to those songs and faithful and fun renditions of The Breeders' "Saints" and Green Day's "Basket Case."

The Walkmen
Reason: Finally getting the volume right
There were few complaints to be made at Pitchfork this year, and those that were—chiefly long Port-A-John lines—were remedied. But the sound was still a little meek for most sets, with bands that should have crushed the crowd simply tapping them instead. Not so for The Walkmen, who for some reason were blessed with enough volume to really push songs like “In The New Year” through the crowd. A horn section helped, too.

The National
Reason: Translating bedroom-sized passion to an open field
Those who haven’t seen The National play live rightly wonder how such intimate songs—Matt Berninger’s baritone sounds mumbled into your ears on stone classics Alligator and Boxer—could translate to a big crowd. But as it always does live, the Brooklyn band energized its own catalog at Pitchfork, breathing different life into songs quiet (the gentle “Green Gloves”), loud (“Mr. November”), and both (the crushing set-ender “About Today”). Berninger even made his way into the crowd for a bit, communing with breathless fans. But it was a more intimate moment that made The National’s headlining set seem particularly real: At the show’s close, Berninger stood up on Bryan Devendorf’s drum riser and sort of half-embraced him, seemingly acknowledging that something special had just happened. Which of course it had.