ACL: Day 2

Austin City Limits: Day Two

The festival was more crowded than the day before; everyone that planned on attending made it. It was game day and Austinites wore burnt orange and cheered for their Longhorns who were battling the Razorbacks at Royal Memorial stadium from Zilker Park.

At halftime, TX was up 31-3, Sharon Stone and the Dap Kings have finished their set and Brooklyn’s MGMT was playing a main stage. I walked over to the designated area but it wasn’t long before I met a wall of people and had to stop two football fields away from the stage. All I saw in front of me were the red necks of hipsters who should have put on sunscreen before putting on their fluorescent wayfarers. MGMT’s crowd was as big as the one that amassed at their free show in Williamsburg but this was in Texas for Pete’s sake! It was all too much. I didn’t want to fight the newly American-Appareled rookies from Austin and the veteran hipsters from northern climes. I left soon after Electric Feel for Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band and open air.

After Oberst was Dallas-native Erykah Badu, her natural freshly teased (she left her pick in for safe keeping) and glowing like only a hot, pregnant woman could. But her delicate condition didn’t prevent her from delivering a passionate performance or from proselytizing. Badu cut into her performance when she used the stage as a soapbox for at least ten minutes. She had just started singing Honey when a timekeeper gave her a warning. Badu then ditched the new single in favor of crowd-favorite Tyrone (minus a verse) and she exited on time, dancing all the while to Lil’ Wayne’s A Millie.

Beck, along with Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, were Saturday’s headliners. Both played an amazing set, or so I’ve heard. I didn’t make it to the west side of the park for Plant and Krauss, choosing to stay on the east side for Beck’s entire show. While ACL offers fans a wide variety of acts, one of its biggest drawbacks is that fans have to choose between them. Should I go to Gnarls Barkley or The Raconteurs? M. Ward or Gogol Bordello?

But Beck didn’t let me down. Technically sound, innovative and expansive, his set and the crowd response it drew carried across Zilker’s expanse over to the competing show. “Their [Plant and Krauss] music was beautiful but you could hear Beck because it’s so mellow,” said one ACL attendee who was on my flight back to New York. Well Mr. Plant, Ms. Krauss, you’ll have to excuse the Beckheads. In his defense, you can’t not sing along when Beck—Beck!—is onstage singing Loser or Devil’s Haircut. Just try to keep mum. I double-dog dare you.