James Blake was unfortunately assigned to play the ill equipped Honda stage, of which the reach of the speakers just barely extended beyond the stage, barely touching upon the massive crowd that gathered to hear the sweet songbird’s dulcet croning over dirty London style underground bass. Blake still attempted to showcase the excellence and high registers of his voice, which probably sounded magical and great to the front of the crowd, but lost and drowned out at the back – especially when the crowds of friends sensed the lull and began to talk about how excited they were to all be together and at James Blake and oh-my-god-did-that-molly-hit you-yet. However, Blake’s bass and electronic portion actually worked. The bass accents of “I Never Learnt To Share” was heavy enough to pulsate successfully to the back, sending wavy vibes throughout the crowd.

The Chillest Crowd Award / The Dads in The Band Award
Winner: Interpol

The crowd had notably thinned for Interpol, depleted of the more energetic and neon clothing dressed fans who had flocked to Empire of The Sun. Flower crowns and bandeaus disappeared, to be replaced by a subdued, calm crowd, excited to hear the dark and cool stylings of El Pintor. The highlight of the crowd’s chillness was a roll of toilet paper that was playfully flung throughout the crowd, it’s tail streaming and bouncing over slightly stoned heads – that eventually made it’s way to hit a misplaced drunk girl who had climbed on top of somebody’s shoulders, which was received by mass cheer and applause.

Interpol took the stage, showing considerably more age than Julian Casablancas but still maintaining all of the sleek coolness of their reputation by wearing crisp white button downs, black blazers, and their hair long. The band played through the hits of their discography, including ‘Stella Was a Diver’, ‘Evil’ and a slow and pronounced commemorative ‘NYC’ under soft yellow, pink and blue lights. They also debuted several songs off of the highly anticipated album  ‘El Pintor’, which in case not already previously understood, is an anagram for their band name.

The Great Depression Award For “Most Dust”
Winner: Tyler the Creator

Odd Future (are they even a part of it anymore?) mafiosos Earl Sweatshirt and Tyler the Creator dropped back-to-back sets at the Honda Stage and Big Apple Stage, respectively, causing both a mass exodus between sets and a clear divide between the OF gear-clad youths as to which one they preferred. (It’s worth noting that the stages weren’t too far apart.) Earl came out and just destroyed the place, as he is known to do (and as he did in Boston), and mixed in some rarely-played tracks (including my personal favorite, “20 Wave Caps” off of Doris) with mainstays like “Kill,” “Chum,” “Hive,” etc. Earl and Tyler both chatted about which material to play or save, given that they were both about to head across the field and basically continue the ruckus there.

Which, by god, they did. Whereas Earl is indisputably a more talented and professional live rapper, Tyler brings a punk attitude to his sets, and this was no exception. From the get-go, his hysterical stage banter and screaming threw everyone into fits of laughing, arm-waving and jumping, and his tracks seemed louder and zanier than his younger crewmate. I had seen videos of Coachella crowds going nuts to “Tamale” before, but being smack-dab in the middle of it was something else. It quickly became so dusty that I feared my Diarrhea Planet shirt would become unrecognizable (RIP to my Dan Deacon shirt of the same color, which became unwearable due to similar levels of dust during Death Grips’ set at FYF 2013.) I can’t stress to you how funny and, dare I say, genuine Tyler and his crew actually are when they’re in front of a festival crowd. They seemed hell-bent on making sure everyone had a good time, which is really the reason why people spend exorbitant amounts of their own money (or, as Tyler noted to a cheering crowd of teenagers, “Their fucking rich daddies’ money.”) to go to these things.
Also, “Jamba” easily wins the award for “Best Opening Song” of the festival. Adrenaline spikes are inevitable when that sucker drops.

The GWAR Award For “Strangest Props”
Winner: Vampire Weekend

What the fuck are Doric columns and a giant mirror doing on a festival stage? More importantly, why?
With most other acts, this would seem Morrissey-like in terms of ego and, again, why-ness. But with Vampire Weekend, everyone’s favorite indie crossover act, its chalked up to yet another (successful) attempt to make songs about upper-class problems worthy of festival-headlining status.

I say that as a big Vampire Weekend fan, naturally. It’s really, really hard to pick this band apart, not that we should always try. Their mix of upbeat indie pop and new-ish forays into experimental songwriting (“Diplomat’s Son”, “Cousins” etc.) allow them to hop across whichever demographic they see fit to conquer next.

All of these demographics came in force during Foster the People’s set, including me. It’s worth noting that choosing to sit through that set in lieu of seeing James Blake was my worst decision of the festival, by far (name me three real differences between that band and Bastille. Go ahead. I’ll wait.), but such is Vampire Weekend’s allure. I wasn’t alone by a long shot, as everyone around me seemed to be doing the same.

The performance itself, naturally, was just about perfect. I don’t know of a better lead-in to an encore than “Obvious Bicycle” (if you have one, drop me an email), but that track capped a furious, bouncy show that didn’t leave any hit behind. Their back catalogue is small enough that everyone knows every song, but big enough to still leave some mystery as to which track they’ll drag out next. I have no complaints.

Except for the fucking columns, of course. But I guess they’re fetching, or something.