AUSTIN Much of Friday's first day of Fun Fun Fun Fest felt like an over-sized backyard barbecue. Over here, a half pipe skateboard ramp was set up. Over there, a few vintage Caminos parked to be used as ... well, whatever, a meeting place. A handful of food trucks -- if it's even possible, it seems as though the number of food trucks in Austin has quintupled just since South by Southwest earlier this year -- lines one edge of the festival grounds, while (new this year) raised, VIP platforms are strategically placed throughout the fest.
The four stages (Black, Orange, Blue and Yellow) were spread out across Auditorium Shores' quite scenic expanse, the glittering building of downtown Austin providing quite the backdrop as the sun dimmed and the temperature dropped to a satisfyingly crisp chill. (Moving to the edge of Lady Bird Lake is a step up in scale for the scrappy festival, which has previously made its home at Waterloo Park, behind the Capitol building.)
The riot of lights accompanying the performances caught the dust blowing through the air (bandannas are a popular fashion statement at this year's FFF Fest) and the mood, overall, was relaxed. There were hiccups of course -- according to reports, Danzig Legacy got a really late start (45 minutes) and tried to incite a riot -- and ZOMG moments (actor Ryan Gosling was spotted backstage, filming for a rumored Terrence Malick movie) but, for the most part, the first day of Fun Fun Fun Fest was an unhurried, consistently rewarding experience.
I began at the Yellow stage (tent?), which is, as usual, comedy/crazy shocking performance art ground zero. Arriving in time to hear New York-based comic Brett Gelman perform his riotously graphic short story iBrain for what he said would be the final time, my FFF Fest '11 itinerary got off to a raunchy start. Gelman, whom some may recognize from a recent episode of HBO's Bored to Death, was dryly funny and had the audience, many of whom appeared to be freezing, judging by how bundled up they were -- c'mon, it's not *that* cold yet -- roaring their heads off.
Gelman was followed by the hot, "edgy" comic of the moment, Reggie Watts. Watts, who opened for Conan O'Brien on last year's Legally Prohibited from Appearing on Television tour, has become more of a known commodity -- he even played at 35 Denton earlier this year. Describing precisely what Watts does is tricky -- he's a musician, as well as a comedian -- blurring and blending the boundaries between where one art form begins and the other ends. Regardless, it's a trip to see him build up a song out of nothing, wedging hysterical non sequiturs into them like so many errant shards of glass.
Once one of the great white indie-rock hopes, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah have settled down into a more routine existence, having withdrawn from blog hype and breathless pronunciations by rock writers to forge a career of their own making. Four years have passed since CYHSY's sophomore effort, Some Loud Thunder, and the band just released its third, John Congleton-produced LP, Hysterical, in September. Hearing them here suggests hardly any time has passed; Alec Ounsworth's plaintive scrape of a voice sounds as vibrant as ever.
Four Tet (or, as he's known to his mother, Kieran Hebden) bridges the gap between the "post-rock" genre and dance music, blending the harder edge of rock music with the programmed beat abandon of dance music. It wasn't hard to get lost in Four Tet's work Friday, staring out at the frosty, brightly lit buildings of downtown Austin and watching the crowd bob and move almost as one. As soundtracks for an evening go, you could hardly do worse.
Massachusetts electro-pop quintet Passion Pit has just one album (2009's Manners) to its credit, but that didn't stop several thousand from turning out to see the fellas close out day one on the Orange stage. It's highly danceable, borderline anthemic stuff -- try to hear The Reeling and stand still -- which brought the night, for those in the audience, to an almost majestic close. In a few years' time, I'd expect them to repeat their appearance in Austin -- just headlining an ACL stage instead.
Heavy hitters dominated the final hours of the first day, although, as noted above, Danzig Legacy proved to be an epic fail. Across the way, Public Enemy was launching into a set that had the crowd deliriously bobbing up and down. Chuck D and Flava Flav spat rhymes with an almost militaristic urgency -- seeing the always politically mindful Chuck D quasi-lecture folks in the moment of the Occupy movements was a nice bit of synergy -- and proved hip-hop can remain painfully relevant, no flash or cash required.
