In order to prove that no event is safe from being ruined by old uncool people, I joined some young folks with whom I work at the Boston Calling Music Festival on Sunday.
How was it? The acoustics are pretty bad in the concrete canyon so it was hard to understand what all of the white male indie rockers were complaining about. Wikipedia says that most songs are about girlfriends who wander off after lovers’ quarrels, though most of the guys looked old and rich enough that being tapped for $millions in child support profits seemed like the more likely end to a relationship (see Liza Ghorbani and Liam Gallagher). The field seems ripe for an affirmative action campaign.
The consensus favorites from the Sunday line-up were Bastille (all of the fans who’d crowded towards the front of the stage during their performance were young women), The Box Tiger, and Tigerman Woah! Modest Mouse closed the festival weekend with a well-received set.
VIP tickets provided shelter from the sun but, being pretty far away from the stage meant that the music was balanced too far toward the bass. Hard Rock Cafe did the catering for the VIP crowd, and occasionally restocked a meager supply of pretzels, chips, celery and carrot sticks, and turkey/ham/chicken sandwiches on white bread (can they truly be this bad at making and serving food yet still operate a restaurant chain?). Water was available for $1 per bottle, but they ran out towards the end of the concert.
A few photos: on Google+