The coiffed gents of Wild Beasts brought their low melodies and almost operatic vocals to the daytime crowd at Pitchfork. But hearing such melancholy, slow crooning in the daytime felt a bit like slow dancing with the lights on.
Cloud Nothings brought some welcome energy to the day, deliberately striking a balance between a driving beat and wild noise. Like any good punk show, it was wild enough to whip the crowd into a frenzy and steady enough to keep them moving.
The stripped-down, tribal vibes of tUnE-yArDs projected well over Union Park.
The hip hop acts at Pitchfork stood out starkly from the rest of the artists with their energy and ability to engage the crowd. With bass so loud it shook the port-a-potties across the park, Danny Brown perched on the edge of the stage and demanded everyone keep their hands up. They obliged.
St. Vincent delivered an enthralling performance that was easily the best of the weekend. Throughout most of the show she stood starkly on stage like a spotlight in a pitch black room. She moved like a dancer throughout the set, extending her arms like a swan’s neck and moving across the stage in small, high-heeled steps. Until the end of her performance, when she completely lost control, crawling onto a security guard’s shoulders while shredding on the guitar, then rolling and thrashing on stage before trying to smash her head through the kick drum.