Lorde proves her rightful stardom, Arctic Monkeys bring the sex appeal, and Blood Orange’s Devonte Hynes claims assault

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he opening day of the city’s largest pop festival has come to a close. I say pop for good reason; though Lollapalooza stems from alternative rock roots, time have, for better or worse, changed, and this year’s lineup has made that apparent. Only two of the six top-tier headliners can bear the rock descriptor to some extent, and few on the bill can be rightfully termed with the loaded term “indie.” It goes without mentioning that the festival sold out, once again, in record time, with to-be attendees blindly throwing down hundreds without a lineup even announced. I was fortunate enough to arrive after the sporadic summertime thunderstorm to a humid, though surprisingly dry Grant Park. Herded inward, the now-massive Perry’s Stage beckoned bassheads with its relentless thromp. Iggy Azaela took the stage, but the nearest I could — or dared — get was the sidewalk on Columbus Ave. I am not sure as to whether the EDM-centric stage itself or Azaela was the center of attention, but the crowd spilled outside of the small patch of field, and without monitors, it was impossible to watch her performance from a distance.

Chvrches began shortly thereafter. One of my most anticipated acts of the weekend, the Glasgow trio surged into mainstream popularity after being heralded by indie blogs and UK press for their debut EP and subsequent album. Swelling into “We Sink”, their popularity was apparent; though the audience appeared mostly disengaged, they drew a strong mid afternoon following. Chvrches’ 2013 SXSW run was noted as being largely unimpressive sonically, but with a year and a strong tour under their belt, Lauren Mayberry’s vocals have undoubtedly improved. Her stage presence, however, is still a bit awkward, as she appeared stoic, as if giving a speech rather than rousing festival attendees. Close up the mix was too bass heavy, dampening Mayberry’s vocals. Certainly a more interested crowd and an indoor performance that showcased their stage setup would have yielded better results – Martin Doherty of the group noted that the sun had finally begun to break through the clouds midway through their set – but besides the crowd-pleasing hits, it was lackluster. Lorde, too, has been in the midst of a long-running tour with a series of festival dates. Besides Broken Bells, the combined effort of The Shins’ James Mercer and producer Danger Mouse, her mainstage set ran largely unopposed. It showed; her draw appeared to be more than that of headliner Arctic Monkeys later in the night. “Holy sh–! There are so many of you,” she said. “I’m at a loss for words and that doesn’t happen to me very often.” Certainly selling out stadium-sized crowds is not a completely new occurrence for the young songstress, but her exclamation and performance did not come across as a well-practiced routine, but genuine. Lorde commanded the stage with her now-famous glitchy and twitching dance moves. She lay down, mic in hand and eyes closed as if to take in the moment before announcing “Ribs.”

It is unfortunate that despite Lorde’s emotional give, I was stuck in the crowd between rude and selfish audience members. There was group of four that insisted upon guarding their 2-by-2 foot blanket space in the tight crowd and yelled at anyone who dared step across; many people were turned with their backs to the stage, stage engaged in loud conversations; the group that began throwing scraps at a girl on her friend’s shoulder. I relocated several times but still struggled to focus on the performance. Ultimately it detracted from the experience. The first time I saw Arctic Monkeys was at Lollapalooza back in 2011. They had an early evening set in support of “Suck It and See”, slotted before Foo Fighters and plagued with torrential downpours. That album was the first move from their punkish and playful persona, but their latest, “AM” has solidified their rebranding. Arctic Monkeys are no longer a group of Sheffield kids, but suave and still sex-fueled rockers. Admittedly, I was a bit wary of their performance after seeing them perform in the afternoon at Bonnaroo earlier this year. But perhaps boosted by their headliner status and able to better showcase their newfound sultriness in the dark, they proved to be strong rock performers. Their radiowave logo flashed in the background as Alex Turner swayed his hips and slicked back his hair in an “AM” heavy set. The album seems to be divisive among fans: some cheered as Turner promised to tell a story about “a girl named Arabella”, others slunk back; I was the only one in my near vicinity reciting “meccadobber or a betting pencil” at the end of the second verse of “Florescent Adolescent”, even with Turner pulling the phrase into a dramatic ritardando. In the midst of the headliners’ sets, Blood Orange’s Devonte Hynes tweeted that he and his girlfriend had been “assaulted by the security”. “They grabbed her I asked what they were doing and they grabbed my neck and threw me to the ground, then two others joined in on me,” he tweeted. His statements have since fueled an outcry on social media, and fans claim that many posts to Lollapalooza’s Facebook wall have been deleted. Lollapalooza uses a private company for their security. As of Saturday morning, the festival has not made a statement regarding Hynes’ allegations.