Pitchfork 2010: Robyn brings her A-game and B-boy moves, fellow Swede Tallest Man on Earth delivers Dylan-esque Americana, and Liars rock in short-shorts

Day 1 Part 1, July 16, in Chicago

By Selena Fragassi
Published: July 17th, 2010 | 9:10am

And so it begins ... The 2010 Pitchfork Music Festival started quite literally with a Ba Da Bing as the same named label brought its buzz artist Sharon Van Etten to the Aluminum Stage on the eve of her Epic album release this October. With her mop of dark black hair and polished red guitar, Van Etten was the picture of cool in the mirage of heat that enveloped the festival grounds during Chicago's first seasonal heat wave.

Although the publicist-turned-singer started off a bit rough around the edges, she soon grounded herself to deliver convincing songs light on composition and anchored by rich narration of love and loss. Despite a solo presentation, Van Etten's heartstring plucking and Twee twang were aplenty and nailed the history of her Nashville upbringing. A sleeper hit of the day, Van Etten's set was like the juicy start of a chapter book—far before the plot and action were given a chance to thicken. She may have fared better under twilight when a gentle breeze could have helped carry her infectious vocals, but regardless, Van Etten found her spotlight under the bright midday sun for those who rose early enough to see her.

The folk love fest continued as the Tallest Man on Earth found a guitar and a stage for his effortless busker balladry. As with Van Etten, Swedish artist, and rather short man, Kristian Matsson arrived solo but left with the hearts of those anxious to witness the burgeoning import who surprisingly perfected Americana. With the rugged looks of John Cougar Mellencamp and the raspy poetry/prose of Bob Dylan on songs like "The Wild Hunt" and "Thousand Ways," the recently-signed Dead Oceans musician sounded like an FM radio staple even if the transmission signal wasn't always at full blast. The Tallest Man on Earth was yet another slow session and constant reminder of the delayed movement of the dragging afternoon sun-it wouldn't be until another Swede took the stage a couple of hours later that the crowd found some much needed relief from the inadvertent doldrums.

Liars was the first ensemble act of the day and proved quite quickly that strength can most definitely come in numbers. Lead singer Angus Andrew of the Brooklyn-based band wore the day's ever popular style of men's short-shorts and a retro Men At Work concert tee. The tee could have just as well described the assembly line of proficient musicians who punched the clock to reproduce the band's rhythmic and experimental sound textures seen on the band's series of LPs, most recently Sisterworld (Mute).

Liars was proficient at creating an all-to-real series of songs with seismic build-up and quick gear shifts which may have been obtusely abstract, but all the while attention-grabbing. While Andrew's vocal delivery left much to the imagination, his gut-baring air guitar workout did not.

There was no doubt that the day's lineup had one artist everyone was just DYING to see. But before Robyn could take the stage, festival organizers wanted to make sure no one was dying from heat, reminding the bulging crowd of the inherent "social contract" in place at the fest and announcing to wild applause that bottled water had been reduced to just $1 for the rest of the weekend. It was yet one more example of a successful fest that puts its patrons above its profits. In all of the season's bloated festival outings, Pitchfork still remains one of the most enjoyable and most authentic with a lineup that others like to steal (Didn't make it to this year's sold-out fest? Just wait for Lollapalooza next year) and organizational perfection that others should rip off.

The festival threw concertgoers for another loop this year when they added Robyn to the bill last-minute. That's right, the '90s "Show Me Love" chart topper. Although the Swedish singer has had one hell of a year thus far with no less that three brand-new albums in queue (Body Talk, Pt. 1, 2, and 3), it was still a left-field curveball for the Pitchfork brand that steers so clear from anything even lightly scented of pop notes. But when Pitchfork speaks, their followers listen and so this "must-see" act attracted the entire park who packed in and turned the high-energy set into an all-out dance party. "I didn't know what to expect," Robyn said sheepishly as she marveled at the sheets of people before her. Frankly, neither did we but the outcome couldn't have been better for the artist who is already a shoe-in for year-end best lists, from People to Paste (and maybe even Venus Zine?!)

To the familiar Dolby Surround Sound amplification, Robyn entered the stage to a deafening applause, dressed in a grey cutout dress with leather shoulder lapels, black crocheted tights, and rocking her trademark ghost blonde pixie cut. Starting with the techy tantalizing number "Fembot," Robyn brought her A-game and her B-Boy dance moves straight from her '90s heydey when the 1996 album Robyn Is Here made her a star across seas and channels. Frustrated with her quieted creative voice on major labels, she took an extended hiatus and made a comeback in the late aught years with her own label, Konichiwa. Her latest trifecta brings together collaborations with Diplo, Royksopp, and even Snoop Dogg showing the great diversity of her abilities as were on display in this career-making performance. From sampling of Kid Rock's "Bawitdaba" to her original stunners "With Every Heartbeat" and "Dancing On My Own," Robyn found a whole park of new admirers who know that once again Robyn Is Here and here to stay.

—

Read up on Pitchfork Day 1: Part 1 and Part 2

Read up on Pitchfork Day 2: Part 1 and Part 2

Read up on Pitchfork Day 3: Part 1 and Part 2