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Featuring a beautiful vocal turn from Vilja Larjosto, this track is painted a drippy blue with bloopy lead synths and a decidedly chill, plunky harpsichord backing melody.  A stunning glimpse of what A Certain Distance may bring.

Monday served as a perfect comedown from the sensory overload that is Sasquatch.  First up was Deerhoof on the main stage, a last minute schedule addition for the better.  (Mugison? Meh)  Frontwoman Satomi Matsuzaki is a pocket-size bundle of awesomeness, guiding her band through golden 60s surf rock tones prismed out at obtuse angles, splaying tiny rainbows of angular guitar-play and pipsqueak vocals all over the slowly populating main stage arena.

Following Deerhoof came a string of underwhelming-ness paired with brain and body overwhelmed-ness.  Black Moth Super Rainbow sounded close to exactly how they do on record, which is a good thing in their case.  Grizzly Bear’s spaced out folk proved a little too spaced out and expansive for a sweltering 90 degree heat–this band remaining a great headphone band in my books.  School of Seven Bells still failed to impress, though, to their credit, they sounded far more soaringly shoegaze than I remember them being on record, though they clipped the speakers on the high end and sounded far too same-y to hold my interest past three songs (as my editor Mark mentioned, “Same-y bands sounding 1000% more same-y in the boiling heat.”) Soon, it was time to head back down to the main stage to catch the Fleet Foxes’ Sasquatch revisit.

Last year the Foxes filled in at the main stage at the last minute for the National, as the Brooklyn band was stuck at the border. Then, the Foxes looked dwarfed on stage, huddled close and playing a yet-to-be-critical-darling-of-the-year album to a crowd that wanted another band to be on stage. This year told a completely different story; the boys spread out on stage, dropping the bass lines heavy and the harmonies extended and amplified.  J. Tillman remains a creative genius on the drum kit, hitting crash cymbals with tambourines while singing and still keeping perfect rhythm on the kick drum. The band played a few new songs, which, though they sounded great, seemed to be lost on the amassed crowd. The Foxes’ music is definitely best heard at home first; when heard live and loud–with the backing bright sun creating halos ’round their heads–those familiar songs become absolutely immense. Other way around?  Not so much.  Regardless, this was the perfect way to wrap up the festival for this sun-fried writer, still needing to brave the traffic-riddled trip home.

Having witnessed as much as possible in a 72 hour time frame, the highlight of the fest remains M83 at magic hour–that perfect combination of time, place and a group of musicians poised to take advantage will linger long in my mind to provide that satisfying feeling of being able to say: “I Was There.”

Until next year, Sasquatch…

Photo by Tracey Cataldo

As Mad Rad finished up, Hockey was taking aim on the Wookie, and came out kicking. The Wookie stage is the closest to the entrance, and as people poured into the grounds, the Portland group’s highly-danceable glammed-out garage rock definitely drew a good amount of them over. It was nice to see. These guys looked really poised, sounded super tight and abounded with energy, even getting a crowd of people pogo-ing under the high noon sun.  In short, it was a great set, and I’m looking forward to checking them out the next time they come through Seattle.

Later in the day, I made sure to muscle up close to the main stage for TV on the Radio’s late-afternoon set. Their mix was pitch-perfect–saxophones, synths, guitars and vocals all at perfect levels, making me wish that yesterday’s Animal Collective set sounded so thick. “Wolf Like Me” came out roaring, and makes a contender for best single song performance of the fest. The growling synth that grinds beneath Tunde Adebimpe’s equally snarling vocal delivery, threatened, and eventually did, break loose and wreak havoc on the crowd, sending hands up, feet hopping and heads uncontrollably rolling. “Staring at the Sun” also got a shot in the arm, picking up momentum at each measure, Adebimpe unleashing lightning bolts of kinetic energy, the song crescendoing and breaking to reach that magic ratio of equal parts rock-out and groove. Perfect.

It took some speed walking to get over in time to catch M83’s set, which had to have been the most serendipitous scheduling decision of the weekend. With the sun setting behind a haze, the breeze was cooled and the lighting golden, an unbeatable setting to witness M83’s shimmering, blissed-out synth pop.  Another expertly mixed set, thankfully, and when front man Anthony Gonzalez dropped the “let’s go” sample that leads off “Sitting,” the trio onstage brought some pretty straight-forward big beat house that reverberated through the thousands in attendance. This was a mere prelude to set-closer “Colours,” however, which left the biggest smile on my, and every other face I could see around me. The best part of the immense 4/4 punch that that song packs is that even those in attendance who aren’t so, let’s say, rhythmically inclined (and there were many), can figure out how to jump in line with the beat. You could catch the glimmer in Gonzalez’s eye, looking out over the sea of thousands, glowing in pitch-perfect evening lighting with the gorge behind, hands in the air, jumping like their life depended on it to a track so full of youthful abandon that it’s almost as if it was written for that very moment in particular. Dang.  The group even pleasantly surprised us with “Slowly,” off of 2001’s self-titled debut, a crunchy, bloopy, 8-bit styled synth gem that remains one of the groups strongest showings.

M83’s early evening show didn’t leave a lot of room for improvement for the festivals second day, but if there is a band to challenge that notion, it is Of Montreal. Thankfully the group was up next, spirited as ever and theatrical as one would expect (they closed their sets by smashing their guitars). Not a lot to say about these guys as I missed most of it to catch some of NIN’s appropriately mic-stand throwing, fog-machine/strobe light extravaganza. Trent Reznor looks like he’s been hitting the gym, but only building muscle in his neck.  It was weird, and added to the even more surreal experience of seeing Nine Inch Nails play in 2009 under the setting sun.

Pretty packed day tomorrow:  Black Moth Super Rainbow, Deerhoof, Grizzly Bear, Fleet Foxes, and more!  Here we go…

Kicking things off with gumption was Champagne Champagne, getting a small but excitable crowd boppin’ and wavin’ their hands as the sun hit high noon.  Skipping genres from their trunk rattling Molly Ringwald love (well, let’s call it love) letter to a jangly, jiving guitar strum beat, to melodica tunes, to a heavy hitting refrain to the effect of ‘fuck the police’.  The crowd ate it up.

Following was a totally swallowed Owl City, playing to a disinterested crowd starting to gather for the next act on the Wookie stage, Blind Pilot.  The Portland group played a solid set, though a little short on excitement.  When the sun is this intense, and the distractions plenty, finely executed, though fairly vanilla acoustic rock just isn’t going to cut it, at least not for this writer.

Passion Pit followed on the same stage, and brought some excitement, but even the most colorful of performances can’t cover up an inconsistent and thin reserve of blog candy songs and lack of experience performing said tracks.  Oh well, maybe next year guys, or, then again, maybe not.

Off to shade, water, and a moment or two of rest before Animal Collective were to take the stage to meet (and thankfully exceed) my very high expectations for them.  The sun, thankfully, took reprise behind the one cloud in the sky, and though the trio looked pretty dwarfed on the gargantuan stage, their sound definitely filled the void. The band’s latest, Merriweather Post Pavilion, with its lush and buoyant sunny-time psyched-out-ed-ness, may have made everyone forget, but AC is, first and foremost, a noise band, and with the stack of speakers afforded the band at Sasquatch, there was room for a LOT of noise to be made. That they certainly did. Down in the pit, the sound hit hard and loud, and damn, it felt great.

The band opened with “Summertime Clothes” and, surprisingly, followed that with what is arguably their biggest hit, “My Girls.”  The live version was considerably thinned out, but that extra space worked quite well on the big stage, with the big beat dropping in really heavy as delayed vocals skittered about to and fro–”I just want, four walls and adobe slabs, for my girls.”  The rest of AC’s set was fleshed out well by tracks off of Feels and more off Post Pavilion.  The reaction of the crowd seemed mixed, but, so far, these unexpected mainstagers have been the best act of the fest, transcending the myriad distractions and what-nots associated with 40,000 drunk people listening to music in the desert.

After standing and dancing for the length of AC’s set, laying-down-in-the-grass-time was an absolute must, and the Decemberist’s  set provide the perfect soundtrack, playing an amped up performance of their newest album that sounded great drifting up to the grass seats as the sun began to set.

Next up, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, with Karen O doing what she does best: Being a total bad-ass. Her get-up, a neon, Native American frock-type garment and awesome glowing pink glove, caught the crowds attention before the songstress even let out her first note. Miss O is magnetic to say the least, and the group got the pit jumping in no time. These guys are undoubtedly a great live band, whether in a small club, or in the middle of the Colombia River Gorge.

On they way out for the evening, I  attempted to catch Crystal Castles, but, considering all I could hear was some excruciating screaming and muffled beats from a hot, sweaty tent full of glow sticks and high schoolers, I decided to pass…

Until tomorrow…

DJ/Producer(s) Heinrichs & Hirtenfellner have been steadily on the rise over the past few years, with over twenty releases and remixes under their belt and a debut long player due this month.  Their sound is deep and minimal, usually more on the techno side of things, but definitely augmented with some funky Chicago house influence.

‘Tromp It’, is, by far, they most dynamic and ear-worming track up these guys’ sleeve.  The horns, oh my god THE HORNS!  (Wait for it, about two minutes and fifty seconds.  Stick with it, it’s worth it).  Try, just try and get this line out of your head, I dare you.

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The best part is the fact that this track  mixes beautifully in almost any genre - house, B-more, baile funk, techno, and just about anything else with a 125 bpm heart beat.

Both hailing from the world’s capitol of Techno, Berlin, Modeselektor and Apparat stand at the top of the heap of chunky, genre-skittering electronica producers working today. Modeselektor’s bass-heavy beats are aimed more at getting the dance floor bouncing than Apparat’s poppier, more melodic fare, but the combination of the two (performing as the aptly named Moderat) should leave us shaking our booties to the best of both worlds. (ER)

The opening track off Moderat (which I highly recommend), entitled ‘A New Error’, makes for a good barometer:

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For the forthcoming Dark Signals Remix EP, a collection of remixes of Sleepy Eyes of Death’s Dark Signals EP from earlier this year, Andrew Luck and Dosdai have joined forces to chop and screw ‘Pierce the Air’, a moody step-synthed sleeper characteristic of the Sleepy Eyes’ repertoire. Based on this track, I must say I’m quite excited to hear the rest of the EP, out this summer on Mass Mvmnt.

The duo keep some of the arpeggios and the creepy high-end pads from the original, and add a one-two break beat, heart-stopping bass drops, and a hell of a wonky sawtooth bass line. Whomp indeed sirs, whomp indeed.

Check it out below:

PIERCE THE AIR (Andrew Luck vs Dosadi’s Whomp Mix) by Andrew Luck vs. Dosadi