Article by Arami Chang & Chloe Gonzales
42 musicians. 3 days. One too many brat shirts. You would think that this alone would be enough to shape a truly iconic summer weekend, but these things aren’t exactly what I remember most. Really, I’m more fond of the smaller moments: the time I met eyes with Amen Dunes in the Jeff Rosenstock pit, the time I offered my Sharpie to Akenya, the time I nervously wondered how I was going to ask Kara Jackson and McKinley Dixon for a photo, the time I eventually decided against it. I headed to Day 3 of Pitchfork Fest with all that in mind, letting chance rather than strict press duties guide the rest of my weekend.
Nala Sinephro
In a lot of ways, Nala Sinephro was a clear outlier from the rest of the festival lineup. Unlike the rest of the lineup, who have had varying degrees of history with the city of Chicago, Sinephro didn’t have as many fun Chicago anecdotes to share with us. Of course, this is all because today was not only Nala Sinephro’s first time performing in Chicago, but her first in the entire country. After maintaining her sphere of influence within Europe since the start of her career, Day 3’s crowd had the rare privilege of witnessing Sinephro’s debut US performance at Pitchfork Fest.
Sinephro never seemed burdened by the thought though, and it probably helps that her brand of new age music and spiritual jazz just makes everything feel alright. After all, her 2021 debut album Space 1.8 is clear proof of that, songs whose magic seems to operate on a different plane of existence. Lucky for us, we got to get a taste of that cosmic beauty.
Alongside her saxophonist, bassist, and drummer, Sinephro opened the set carefully caressing and stroking her harp. What followed was some of the most angelic jazz tunes I’ve heard all weekend. The moment reminded me of the astral grandeur of spiritual jazz legends like Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders. But unlike them, Sinephro is a decidedly contemporary musician. When she’d eventually hit musical inflection points during each song, she’d trade the harp for synth pads. As more electronic layers lay atop the bed of ambient jazz melodies, Sinephro’s music almost sounded like it was marching through the sands of time. At the touch of her hands, synths floated like digital debris in space, exploding into electronic dust when they clashed into each other.
To the unseasoned listener, most of what was happening might have sounded like free jazz, amorphous abstractions humming through the end of time. But when you take a look at Sinephro, just how collected her demeanor was throughout it all, you begin to realize that all these songs are actually fully orchestrated compositions. Her set offered a collection of carefully architected cosmic soundscapes, ultimately culminating in some incredibly satisfying pay offs.
She recently announced that a new album of hers Endlessness is on the way. With her set fresh on my mind, I kept note of it as one of many albums I needed to check out this year.
Jessica Pratt
I woke up this morning reminded of a promise I had made back in May. I had attended Jessica Pratt’s album signing event at Amoeba Hollywood in support of her latest record Here in the Pitch, and it served as an incredible opportunity for me to talk to her one-on-one. As I nervously vomited word salads, telling her just how much her music meant to me, Jessica had coolly thanked me for the support. I wrapped up our conversation promising her that I would go see her again once I got to Chicago for the summer. Two months have since passed, and I headed to her set ready to keep my promise.
The last time Pratt performed at Pitchfork Fest was back in 2015. A Jessica Pratt set back in the On Your Own Love Again days was pretty scant and lo-fi, only featuring herself, her guitarist, and her ever-so-delicate singing. But ever since the release of 2019’s Quiet Signs, Pratt has now been embracing more percussive, bossa nova-influenced accents as the backdrop for her freak folk tunes. A Jessica Pratt set today features an entire band of guitars, saxophone, synth pads, and drums backing her up, a stark but welcome change indicative of her artistic evolution over the years.
Now, songs from Quiet Signs and On Your Own Love Again that were previously more minimal got the live band treatment. Songs like “This Time Around” and “Here My Love,” once some of her least decorated tracks, were now embellished with quiet drum fills and serenading saxophone passages. But throughout it all, Pratt’s singing and guitar playing remained soft and moody. Whereas the swirling synths, heavy bass tones, and chiming percussions felt crisp, tangible, Pratt’s fragile singing and finger-picked guitar playing seemed to instead operate on some sort of dream logic, simple folk tunes quickly turned into entrancing siren songs. It’s what makes her latest release Here in the Pitch, in my opinion, arguably one of the most beautiful folk albums of the year. The enchanting melodies of some of the album’s highlights like “Better Hate,” “Get Your Head Out,” and “The Last Year” buzzed around my ears, and I’m grateful she’s included them in her setlist.
But I gotta be honest about something. During that entire set, the crowd was quietly burning under the sun. With the set being scheduled in the middle of the afternoon and technical difficulties delaying the set for even longer, I noticed exposed skin turning redder by the minute. But when Pratt was humming her soft dirges to us, for a brief moment, I think I felt the autumn breeze blowing in.
Mannequin Pussy
Mannequin Pussy, or rather “Mannequin Pussssssssssssy,” was a set that I anxiously anticipated all weekend. Their newest album, “I Got Heaven” was on repeat for me throughout the year, starting with their initial singles “I Got Heaven” and “I Don’t Know You.” And critics agreed: getting a 8.8 on Pitchfork and more, everyone has been jamming out to the thrash and guitars and screaming that Mannequin Pussy evokes.
Before the set, lead singer Marisa Dabice went on Pitchfork’s interview stage. Talking about the new album and more, there was one conversation that stood out to me. They talked about the word “pussy” and how it puts people into one of two categories: either you get immediately uncomfortable with the word or you are like “Hell yeah! Pussy!” And in the crowd of dads and millenials, practically everyone was the latter.
I was immediately ecstatic as the four-piece group came up onto stage. I was shaking with anticipation as I tried to hold onto my camera, getting in position for when they would burst into music. They introduced themselves and claimed that they would start with a calmer song, going into “I Don’t Know You.”
As they continued on, their set consisted mostly of songs off of “I Got Heaven,” which riled up the crowd. After the photo pit, I was determined to make it to the mosh pit, which was getting bigger by the second. I made my way up, just in time for “OK? OK! OK? OK!,” a song that says exactly what you expect, OK!!!! The group ended it off with a popular song off of their previous album and closed off the set with people screaming and head banging.
Brittany Howard
Today was noticeably a lot calmer than yesterday. As opposed to the dance and alt-rock driven lineup featured yesterday, today’s lineup was mostly composed of singer-songwriter types and jazz artists. Though bands like Model/Actriz and Mannequin Pussy would occasionally erupt in noise, today’s crowd was mostly offered a more lowkey set of tunes. So this begs the question: how do you rile up a reserved crowd without totally blowing their ears out? Well, one thing you could do is be Brittany Howard.
Howard has always tried to embrace the fun of everything. In a pre-show interview with Pitchfork’s senior editor Jeremy Larson, she revealed that her music making process has always been instructed by whichever creative direction would ultimately be the most fun. What sound effects work? What happens when you plug a guitar into a PVC pipe? According to Howard, most of what she’s released have been the result of haphazard decision making. It doesn’t matter too much how the end product turns out; at least she had fun along the way.
But what Howard doesn’t realize is that her results sound about just as fun as the process, because in my opinion her latest record What Now is pure psychedelic bliss. The second track to the album, “I Don’t,” opened her set, and it was quickly apparent just how hypnotizing the whole experience was. As she quietly mourned how no one laughs all night or smiles with their eyes anymore, the crowd had immediately fallen under her spell, everyone collectively swaying back and forth to her soulful melodies. She quickly followed up with fan favorites from 2019’s Jaime. Everyone sang along to “Stay High,” shared mutual disappointment with Howard on “Baby,” and had their own personal reckonings with “He Loves Me.” As the set progressed, Howard must have felt the urge to end the weekend on a high note. To keep the momentum up, the set continued to crescendo until most of the music eventually morphed into danceable beats, psychedelic guitars now replaced by driving electric riffs, bass lines and drums hitting harder and groovier than ever. So it feels especially fitting that “Prove It To You” and “What Now” concluded her set. Because how else are we supposed to keep our feet shuffling for the rest of the night?
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