C.K. performed several stand−up shows at the Boston Symphony Hall from Jan. 3 to Jan. 5 on his most recent tour. Each night consisted of an early show beginning at 7 p.m. and a late show beginning at 10 p.m.

For the late show on C.K.’s final night in Boston, comedian Gary Gulman opened the performance with a 15−minute routine. Gulman, who has appeared on both “The Tonight Show with Jay Leno” and“The Late Show with David Letterman,” also earned the spot of runner−up during two seasons of “Last Comic Standing,” and received a positive response from the Boston audience. Gulman, employing a Boston accent, played up the show’s location by presenting a well−liked bit on the New England Patriots’ Tom Brady.

When Gulman introduced C.K. onstage, the audience applauded wildly, clearly eagerly anticipating the next hour and a half. C.K. introduced his act with a short anecdote about his first trip to Boston Symphony Hall, when he came with his father to see a classical music performance. C.K. divulged that this trip marked the first moment he realized he had full control over the act of killing himself. The audience roared with laughter in response.

C.K. is known for telling simple stories that simultaneously resonate with broader existential concepts, and this evening’s performance was no different. C.K. continued life and death themes throughout various segments of his show, including a hilarious piece on why people are so lucky to have time on earth. While audience members who may not be familiar with C.K.’s style might have expected a more uplifting indicator of the human race’s good fortune, C.K. fans were unsurprised when the comedian reduced the equation to, “We get to have sex!” The joke itself does not necessarily appear original or creative when taken out of context, but C.K. succeeds because he forms clear connections with his audience. In his fearlessness, he keeps nothing from them and in doing so builds up a bond similar an old friend who knows us at our best but more particularly at our worst. The awkward, the painful and the crude are all fair play because of this trust C.K. establishes. We are all in the same position as he is and we all share similar experiences.

The most controversial section of C.K.’s show was without a doubt his finale, which the comedian began by explaining that he often views events and ideas with an “of course, but maybe” mentality. For example, he first states that “of course” safety measures should be taken for people with nut allergies. “But maybe,” C.K. continued, those who are so allergic that contact with nuts is fatal should be allowed to die. He went on to set up another instance using the Make a Wish Foundation and the audience began to murmur and groan, deeming the topic inappropriate for humor.

C.K. maintained his hold on the audience, however, and moved on to the subject of soldiers being killed in action. At this point, heads shook and “oh mans” could be heard across the theatre, but C.K. interjected, “Hey, you laughed at those other ones — you’re all in this with me now.” The now complicit audience laughed with a sense of guilt as C.K. finished the bit. They recognized that the master comedian had proved that there is a comic dichotomy: a comedian can remain distant from a subject and stay on the outside, never taking a chance with a controversial punch line for fear of going into the politically incorrect, or a comedian can allow themself to be pulled into the comic abyss and find side−splitting and profound humor in even the darkest of subjects. C.K. has always chosen the latter, and his ability to balance with the scandalous with the thought−provoking and the profound speaks to his immense skill.

“I was ready for that shit. I’m over it. It means nothing to me now. I’m Rick James-proof,” Chappelle said.

During a 2004 stand-up performance, Dave Chappelle walked off stage after constantly being heckled and cat-called. Chappelle later walked back on stage and said, “You know why my show is good? Because the network officials say you’re not smart enough to get what I’m doing, and every day I fight for you. I tell them how smart you are. Turns out, I was wrong. You people are stupid.”

Shortly after, Chapelle went on an extended hiatus in South Africa, leaving “Chappelle’s Show” to lie fallow.

For Chappelle’s show this evening, he dealt with the inevitable heckling with grace and appreciation for his audience.

According to Chappelle’s interview with James Lipton in the television show “Inside the Actors Studio,” during Chapplle’s early career, he had a short conversation with his father concerning his impending career in stand-up. After a brief father/son back and forth, Dave’s father knew that his son was set on the path to go into show business. He offered his son a bit of advice: “Name your price in the beginning. If it ever gets more expensive than the price you’ve named, get out.”

“Thus, Africa,” Chappelle said.

During this same interview, Chappelle remarked on his journey to South Africa in 2005:

“Why is Dave Chappelle going to Africa? Why does Mariah Carey make a hundred-million dollar deal and take her clothes off on TRL? A weak person can not get here and talk to you. Ain’t no weak people talking to you. So what is happening in Hollywood? Nobody knows! The worst thing to call somebody is crazy. It’s dismissive. I don’t understand this person, so they’re crazy. That’s bullshit. These people are not crazy, they’re strong people. Maybe the environment is a little sick.”

Chappelle continued, “You guys are students now, so you’re idealists. But you don’t know about where art and corporate interests meet yet. Just prepare to have your heart broken.”

After a brief opening set by stand-up comic Nathan Brannon, Chappelle walked onto stage in front of a ravenous fanbase.

Back and forth he went during a two-hour set, pulling topics seemingly out of thin air. Even his segues seemed barely able to contain the comedy and charm that Chappelle is capable of.

Upon entering the McDonald Theatre, signs were posted everywhere proclaiming “No phone calls, no heckling, no texting, no tweeting. If you fail to do this, we will remove you.” It was only a matter of time before somebody tried to take a few video shots of Chappelle on their cell phone.

“Sorry man, but I gotta ask that you bring that phone up here so I can delete that,” Chappelle said. “I appreciate you being here, and I appreciate that you want to record my jokes but, it’ll end up on YouTube for free, and I’d rather tell my jokes on stage. At $50 a ticket,”

The crowd applauded.

Even after getting sidetracked by a bizarre and confusing question to the comedian about “moments past and future” that was so esoteric, it was rendered indecipherable, Chappelle took it in stride despite the remarkably harsh calls for the woman who asked the question to retake her seat from the audience.

Gone were too many jokes about marijuana and race. They remained in his set, but they have a softer edge to them now, and a more accepting, worldly way about them. Chappelle was a pleasure to watch, and it seems like he truly finds joy in his comedy.

“I’ve set out all these goals and I’ve achieved them. I wanted to be rich enough to know what fork to use in a fancy restaurant,” Chappelle said.

“You’ve gotten there, what now?” called out an audience member.

“I’m just coasting on being a rich douchebag,” Chappelle said.

Chappelle has grown in his career, and it seems, as a person as well. This is a victory for one man deciding to change himself; to decide who he wants to be. In a way, this is a victory for us all. People can change. You don’t always have to sell your soul for success. The person that Chapelle has chosen to be is a gracious one. A funny one. A stand-up comedian.

And we’re all luckier for it.

The entire weekend was a blast. There was much to see and many activities catered to a variety of interests. According to festival organizers, the 80,000 festival-goers at Bonnaroo increased the population of Manchester to the seventh most populated city in the United States.

Upon entering the festival grounds for the first time, it was obvious that it was the most well-organized music festival I had ever attended.

Prior to Bonnaroo, I had been to several smaller festivals, all of which were fun, but many important amenities were unavailable to the crowd, such as free water.

Bonnaroo‘s organizers made sure that no one was dehydrated. There were multiple water stations in convenient locations where festival-goers could fill their water bottles for free. For anyone who has run out of water during a summer festival, this is an awesome feature.

I heard that the festival was big, and there were a lot of activities, but I underestimated the sheer magnitude of the event.

For one, there is no way to see everything. Although I was able to check out many artists who I have been waiting to see for quite a while, there were still many areas that I was unable to visit.

For example, my fiance and I wanted to go to the Silent Disco, which was a dance hall where everyone danced and listened to music through headphones – no music could be heard by passers-by. It was funny to see a huge crowd people dancing to no music. Though we wanted to partake in this, we never found the time (and the popularity for the Silent Disco usually produced an enormous line).

Bonnaroo is truly a music lover’s paradise. Walking through CenterRoo (the main festival area) usually ends with at least a couple of fun surprises, such as an unannounced performance by Jacob Hemphill of the reggae band SOJA at the Relix magazine tent.

The headliners for this year’s Bonnaroo were nothing short of amazing.

Radiohead’s stage show was the largest and most impressive of the weekend. The band played mostly newer songs, but satisfied long time fans with a few older ones – the set ended with my personal favorite, “Paranoid Android.”

The Red Hot Chili Peppers gave a phenomenal performance as well. The band’s new guitarist, Josh Klinghoffer, had the opportunity to prove to the large crowd why he was worthy of filling the shoes of RHCP veteran John Frusciante, who departed in 2009. The band played many favorites, including “Under the Bridge,” “Suck My Kiss” and “Give it Away,” as well as new songs such as “Rain Dance Maggie.”

If I could give a Bonnaroo MVP award to any artist, it would be the Chicago-based jam band Umphrey’s McGee. The band was scheduled to perform the Friday late night set from 2–4 a.m., but surprised fans with a tweener set from Big Gigantic at 4 a.m. and went back on stage and rocked until 6 a.m. This was Umphrey’s Mcgee’s sixth Bonnaroo appearance, and it was clear why the band is asked to come back again and again.

The Saturday late night was the only letdown for me. Having been impressed by other electronic acts such as Bassnectar and Pretty Lights, I was excited to see Skrillex perform. His show was good, but not great. His light show wasn’t as creative as I anticipated and he ended his show 15 minutes early. Because Umphrey’s McGee went all out during its late-night set, I expected Skrillex to go above and beyond as well. Unfortunately, he fell short.

All in all, the weekend was a success, and I encourage anyone who has not been to Bonnaroo to make sure they attend next year – you won’t be disappointed.

For his hour of standup, Gaffigan had the auditorium full of laughter as he discussed family, dietary habits, fast food restaurants and going to the bar.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Urban Meyer,” Gaffigan yelled to a laughing crowd.

He then divulged on parenthood, especially the newest addition to his family, his fourth child.

“Just imagine you’re drowning, and then someone hands you a baby,” he said.

Eating habits and various fast food chain restaurants played a part in Gaffigan’s act.

“Hot dogs are like strippers,” Gaffigan said. “You don’t want to hear their back story.”

Another focus of Gaffigan’s jokes was McDonald’s. Although most people won’t admit they eat there, he said almost everyone does because its food is actually amazing.

“Has your mom ever made anything as good as McDonald’s fries?” he asked. “Of course not.”

Gaffigan said he always hears people say they would never eat at McDonald’s.

“Well McDonald’s wouldn’t want you, because you’re a d—,” he said.

But people’s attitudes toward McDonald’s wasn’t the only thing Gaffigan said annoyed him. He said picking up a friend from the bar is like picking up a toddler from day care. There is always someone screaming, crying or wanting to get in a fight.

“He was standing where I wanted to stand,” Gaffigan yelled. “Or, she was my best friend, but not anymore.”

Gaffigan also said at every bar there is “that guy” who uses anything as an excuse to take a shot, and he peer pressures others to join him.

“He acts like you’re rejecting a sweater that he crocheted you,” Gaffigan said.

Referring to women bartenders who act like “the master” of the bar toward costumers Gaffigan said, “I’m not going to say b—-y … Because that would describe them perfectly.”

On the other end of the spectrum, Gaffigan said women bartenders also have the habit of calling people “honey” and sounding like your grandma.

“‘What can I get you, honey,’” he mocked. “‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe a birthday card with $2 in it.”

Going back to food, Gaffigan said his eating habits were not so healthy.

“I’m on a diet,” he said. “That Domino’s pasta bread bowl diet. The only ingredient missing is a suicide note.”

Gaffigan poked fun at various food chains, aside from Domino’s. His jokes about Subway seemed to be a crowd pleaser.

“It’s fun to watch a clinically depressed person make your sandwich,” Gaffigan said. “They make it right in front of you, why not do it with some flare?”

After then proceeding to joke about his weight, lack of exercise and then pretending to talk on an imaginary phone to “annoy” the audience, Gaffigan thanked the crowd and walked off stage. He returned for an encore saying that he had went behind stage to eat a Hot Pocket, after the majority of Mershon Auditorium gave him a standing ovation.

Robert Brickner, a fourth-year OSU student, said he enjoyed the entire show and that Gaffigan was hilarious.

“My favorite line was, ‘Hot dogs are like strippers, you don’t want to know their backstory,’” Brickner said.

Mollie Worthington, a first-year OSU student, said she has always loved Gaffigan and his non-vulgar style of performing.

“He has a rambling way of telling his jokes,” she said. “It takes a couple seconds to get it but when you do it’s hilarious.”

As the sun was still out, the Arctic Monkeys opened the concert by playing “Brainstorm” — the track that put them on the charts and defined them as a band.

The song was riveting and so was the adrenaline and rock sound that a band of this caliber is known to deliver to its audience.

Fans of the band were touched by the intensity and power that the Arctic Monkeys delivered with the tracks “Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair” and “If You Were There Beware.”

There were many parts of their performance that were similar to their set seen at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival this year.

As their one-hour set came to a close, they played their newly released single “R U Mine?” — which was promoted on this year’s Record Store Day.

The lights dimmed in preparation for the main event of the night — The Black Keys — and the audience snapped into attention as soon as they heard the guitar riff and keyboards introduce the song “Howlin’ for You.”

The set predominately consisted of music from the band’s mainstream career.

The Black Keys performed songs from their Grammy award-winning album “Brothers” as well as tracks from their new album, “El Camino,” which was not a surprise since this is the duos first stadium sized tour.

Though they had to appease their new fans, there were also tracks that only longtime listeners of the band knew such as “I’ll Be Your Man,” which was on the band’s first full-length album.

They also played the singles that made them popular among the blues and rock crowds during the growth of the band.

“Thickfreakness” and “Your Touch” lacked nothing and sounded rugged and formidable in comparison to their album counterparts.

Guitarist and vocalist Dan Auerbach of the duo started singing “Everlasting Light” — a fan favorite from “Brothers”— as a giant disco ball propelled down from the rafters.

Finally, the track from their 2008 album “Attack and Release” that propelled The Black Keys to become more of a household name — “I Got Mine” — was performed.

There was a mellow rhythm after the second verse that was dismissed during this live jam session that was a masterfully crafted build.

As Auerbach strung his guitar, the drums kicked in exploding the sounds through the mounted speakers and onto the audience.

The wailing guitars ended the night perfectly.

Sadly, Tupac is actually dead. Still, reanimated from previous concert footage and with some creative effort on the part of effects powerhouse Digital Domain and AV Concepts, the image of Tupac was unmistakable. It had the Tupac swagger, it had the Tupac face and it even sported the classic Tupac tattoos.

Almost immediately, photos and videos from the concert went viral.

Networks like Twitter and Facebook blew up. Some users referred to the hologram as “creepy” or “too real.” Andrew Alejandre, a linguistics junior who posted a video of the concert on Facebook, wrote, “He kinda’ glides when he walks, like he is on skates, or ice or something, but that is pretty freaking real looking!”

One fan even responded by creating a Hologram Tupac Twitter page. Overnight, the Twitter page attracted upwards of 3,500 followers. In response to a fan’s question about why he isn’t following anyone on Twitter, Hologram Tupac tweeted, “Hologram Tupac don’t follow nobody.”

According to MTV.com, Dr. Dre was the main brain of this project. However, officials at AV Concepts, the company behind the actual projection, refused to discuss the mechanics and technology behind it with the Daily Wildcat and other news organizations.

After seeing such a realistic image, some students think that the holographic concert could become a thing of the future. “That’d be so sick to be in a restaurant and just pay a couple dollars (to see a long-dead band),” said Joe Putrelo, a pre-journalism freshman. He also said that he would be willing to pay $50 or $60 to see a holographic concert.

But the Tupac show wasn’t the first of its kind. Fictional band Gorillaz played with Madonna on a holographic stage at the 2006 Grammy Awards show, and Black Eyed Peas also incorporated holograms into their concerts.

Not only do the images wow viewers, but this technology could allow an artist to perform at multiple venues simultaneously.

Even though Tupac can only live through fancy new equipment, Hollywood’s ability to wow audiences with something new is alive and well. And who knows? Maybe we can see all four Beatles playing together in the near future.

Sadly, that wasn’t the case.

The Canadian band performed at the Schottenstein Center Sunday before a far from sold-out crowd of mostly middle-aged moms and dudes with faux-hawks wearing Affliction shirts.

A few songs into its set, a circular apparatus adorned with clock gears, a drum set and a clear, plastic wall descended from the rafters. The band hopped on and the device transported the band in the air from the end of the arena where the main stage was to the other.

While it was a nice touch visually, you can only do so much to disguise a lousy catalogue of songs, which Nickelback certainly has.

Nothing about the show was particularly unexpected — silhouettes of dancing women appeared on the large video screen behind the band, and loud explosions and fireballs constantly erupted from the set, which made watching the about 90-minute show the equivalent of drinking a case of Red Bull while watching Spike TV.

Frontman Chad Kroeger, sans his trademark long hair, which he claims is a real hit with the ladies, offered plenty of Kroeger-like moments. Before playing “Side of a Bullet,” Kroeger told the audience he wanted to play some metal and drink some beer. The former is nothing short of laughable, sure, but at least there was some logic behind the latter.

Summoning his stage hands to toss cups of beer into the crowd was a genius move, one that allowed anyone who caught their remnants to drink away the pain suffered by extended exposure to the wall of noise Nickelback was creating. At the same time, T-shirts were fired into the crowd, as if you wanted some kind of physical reminder of where you were Sunday.

But if you did, you’re in luck. Kroeger said during the show that a camera crew was there filming the show for god-knows-what.

The band played most of its well-known singles, including “Photograph” and “Gotta Be Somebody.” During “How You Remind Me,” Kroeger came in with his vocals at the wrong time, a gaffe 50 times funnier for the simple fact it was Nickelback. Later, when it played “When We Stand Together,” Kroeger asked that the entire planet come together to fix what is wrong with the world.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t appear as if he thinks Nickelback is one of those problems.

Fans seemed to still be on board, though. Kroeger said he once attended an Ohio State-Michigan game a few years ago, which OSU won, and tried to take credit for it. After a few “O-H … I-Os” and saying, “F—, I love this town,” the already largely hammered crowd was certainly in his favor.

Before its two-song encore, Nickelback played “Burn It To The Ground.” While the pyrotechnic-heavy song might have seared off a few of my facial hairs, I couldn’t help but be disappointed it didn’t melt away the migraine and memories the prior 90 minutes had given me.

Black threw in a bunch of political jokes about Rick Santorum, political parties and the candidates in the running.

Besides the political jokes that he threw in his act, Black also took the time to put the jokes aside and address something that was really close to the university’s heart — the news that broke about the Jerry Sandusky child sex abuse case.

PSU student Caitlin Hutton thought he did a great job noting the news surrounding Penn State.

“I appreciate that he addressed what happened and didn’t try to make fun of it,” Hutton said.

When he was getting ready to walk offstage, Black made sure to give the students advice on their college years. He told students to do what they want to do, and not what their parents or anyone else tells them to do.

He also said not to let what happened to the university affect their years on campus.

“Don’t let them take away these years from you,” Black said with a softer tone as he looked out into the students in the audience. “These are the best years of your life.”

“We have a lovely show planned for you tonight,” said MUTEMATH frontman Paul Meany awkwardly into the microphone at the House of Blues in Boston on March 7. Meany and the rest of the band appeared to be nervous early on, and their first few songs sounded stiff. However, the band started to communicate with the audience and each other, and the energy level escalated throughout until the raucous encore, “Typical.” By the end of the night, MUTEMATH had ignited an initially listless crowd and asserted its expertise in fusing blues into earth-tone alternative rock.

MUTEMATH arrived on stage impeccably polite and well dressed. Set up in a horizontal line, they mostly just stared ahead into the audience for the first few songs. The rendition of the band’s latest single, “Blood Pressure,” was a very tight if perfunctory version of the recording. The band rushed through several more songs from the album with little direction, and the crowd became a little restless, openingly having conversations with each other over the music.

Towards the end of the first hour, however, the band members made a more conscious effort to use the space and interact with each other. Bassist Roy Mitchell-Cárdenas dropped his instrument to bang furiously on a bass drum. Later, all four members of the band clustered around the drum set, whacking away at its various pieces. Meany got up on his organ several times to do handstands and flips, and guitarist Todd Gummerman, not to be outdone, climbed up as well and leaped triumphantly on a drum break.

The musical fervor and chemistry of MUTEMATH guaranteed that the band’s theatrics weren’t empty showmanship. On “All Or Nothing,” Meany’s falsetto soared over a U2-esque groove with ringing guitar notes and a pounding bass. And at the end, “Typical” looked and sounded exactly how an encore is supposed to. The song began with a huge guitar riff and turned into a huge sing-along; at just the right places, confetti shot into the air. Afterwards, the band members came to the very front of the stage to shake the hands of clamoring audience members. The band’s stiffness had given way to a warm intimacy. MUTEMATH may have used many typical gimmicks to ignite the crowd, but the show ended up being undeniably energetic and refreshing.

Dan Auerbach, one half of the blues-rock duo The Black Keys, steadies his guitar and launches the Keys into the 2003 song “Thickfreakness.” Auerbach’s riff dominates the track. He cuts off or draws out notes to accentuate the song’s ugly swagger, and he applies touches of vibrato to inject a fierce volatility. He shifts gears—he slips from the lurching riff into a spiky high-low pattern, then hits the chorus with three heavy chords. Auerbach knows his way around an electric guitar, and stellar musicianship like this powered the Keys’ Mar. 7 show at TD Garden. Auerbach, Keys drummer Patrick Carney, and opener Arctic Monkeys delivered highly skillful performances that were weakened slightly by a mild lack of spontaneity and verve.

Arctic Monkeys’ set relied heavily on the band’s older material, and the British rockers nailed these complex songs with precision and vigor. Drummer Matt Helders opened the set with the thunderous tom-and-snare workout on “Brianstorm.” The others pounded out jagged bass and guitar lines, then chased antic, interlocking riffs through “This House Is A Circus” and “Still Take You Home.” The band shared the stage well—one instrument after the next would emerge dominant and then drop back into the band’s layered sound. The set displayed the intricacy in Arctic Monkeys’ older material, and these songs brought out the band’s striking musicianship.

The quartet played its renditions faithfully, but with endearing enthusiasm and personal flair. This energy came primarily from frontman Alex Turner, who head banged jokingly, jumped from amps, fell to his knees for guitar solos, and teased the “people in the back” throughout. In fine vocal form, Turner sang crisply and forcefully—his eerie insistence charged the otherwise unimpressive “R U Mine?” However, much of Arctic Monkeys’ new material, including songs “Suck It and See” and “Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair,” suffered from repetitive chord progressions only slightly remedied by Turner’s half-engaged vocals. These few tracks felt weak in a performance marked by expert instrumentalism and displays of Turner’s oversized personality.

In its decade-long career, The BlackKeys has moved from raw blues to more richly produced, instrumentally varied rock. The duo’s set spanned that musical history and showed off both members’ skill. The band kicked off with newer material, and Carney took the lead on songs like “Howlin’ for You” and “Run Right Back.” His beats offered little variation from the record cuts, but deft snare work captured the songs’ moody swing—he drove “Howlin’” with a whip-crack downbeat, and his lighter touch on “Dead and Gone” kept the snare pulse bouncy instead of bombastic. Auerbach’s sharp riffs rebounded against Carney’s rhythms, and backing musicians contributed bass and keyboard to denser songs without eclipsing the duo.

Six songs in, the backing band left the pair alone on stage, and Auerbach’s guitar drove renditions of older Keys songs. Instrumental breaks in “Thickfreakness” found him spilling out descending riffs and grinding chord progressions. On “Your Touch,” he inserted a high, skittering solo before crashing back into the hook. He and Carney matched each other’s moves with a seasoned fluidity—Auerbach would smoothly switch up his guitar line after Carney pounded out a fill, or Carney would delay a snare beat to strike on the last note of a riff.

But despite the band’s technical proficiency and sheer energy, Auerbach’s performance initially lacked in raw emotion. Though his ragged voice packed an impressive range, it rarely shuddered or howled in the set’s earlier songs. He and Carney broke into no extended jams on these performances; in a short a freeform segment of “Girl Is On My Mind,” he meandered through brief, quiet guitar doodles.

Then came “Ten Cent Pistol,” a four-minute tale of murderous revenge against a cheating lover. At the final verse, a single spotlight struck Auerbach, who stared intensely into space. He whined the last lines with pained desperation—“‘Cause a jealous heart / did retaliate”—and the Keys jammed the song to a soft finish, Auerbach jerkily muttering the final line. The song’s intensity was carried through the rest of the Keys’ set. Auerbach’s voice trembled on the line “I wanted love / I needed love” as the band charged through “Tighten Up.” He bawled and stuttered his lines on closer “Lonely Boy,” and the song’s faster, sloppier instrumentation matched his tone perfectly. These exhilarating final renditions highlighted the emotional thrust that earlier songs lacked.

The three-song encore brought everything together. Auerbach turned the gritty stomp of “Everlasting Light” into a ballad, complete with delicate falsetto and a disco ball over the stage. Then the pair barreled through the weighty “She’s Long Gone” and jammed on “I Got Mine,” Auerbach strutting through his riffs and Carney chugging out a machine-gun snare line. The Black Keys may have begun their careers as two boys from Ohio, but especially in these final songs, they showed their continuing maturation as rock musicians.

The duo produced deafening sound in the Schottenstein Center in Columbus, Ohio on Sunday.

The night ended with two hefty disco balls illuminating the stage and the audience in multicolored light, but it began with two lively, percussion-heavy bands.

English indie band The Arctic Monkeys warmed up the audience for The Black Keys, which consists of Akron natives Patrick Carney and Dan Auerbach.

Head-bobbing and heel-stomping kept the stands shaking throughout The Black Keys’ set, with many of the songs regarding women and relationships.

The ensemble took a moment to compose itself. Auerbach said he and Carney made a stop in their hometown earlier in the day.

“It feels so good to be in Ohio,” Auerbach said.

The Black Keys were also accompanied by various backdrops and lighting elements that flickered over the crowd. Auerbach and Carney emphasized their skills in “Chop and Change,” during which Auerbach played lead guitar, maracas and sang. The Black Keys built up crescendos in individual songs coming from lows to highs and back down again. The same was true throughout their performance, which ended with thunderous volume and a cut to darkness.

The duo returned and closed with “Everlasting Light,” “She’s Long Gone” and “I Got Mine.”

They played more than 20 songs with and without accompaniment from a bassist and a keyboard player. Some of the songs included “Lonely Boy,” “Next Girl,” “Ten Cent Pistol,” “Girl Is On My Mind” and “I’ll Be Your Man.”

The Arctic Monkeys played up their English charm with Alex Turner singing lead vocals. Their full-bodied sound was complemented with strobing drumbeats and strobing light.

The Arctic Monkeys’ performances of “Still Take You Home,” “When The Sun Goes Down” and “Brick by Brick” got the audience revved up for a stirring performance from the Keys.

Chris Aldana said this was her second time seeing The Arctic Monkeys in concert and she thought they paired well with The Black Keys.

“I think it was a really good pairing, they both have very drum-heavy music,” Aldana said. “The thing that makes them so different is the way that their frontmen sound. … (The) Arctic Monkeys seem more kind of grungy and The Black Keys sound more rock ‘n’ roll.”

The concert left Colleen Miracle impressed and wanting more from The Black Keys.

“Honestly, I just wish they had played more,” Miracle said. “I love those two. They did such a good job. I really like (Auerbach’s) voice. The fact that they’re from Ohio is a cool thing.”

The two bands drew a mixed crowd of various age groups. Miracle said she enjoyed the positive energy of the other audience members.

“This one guy was probably like 40-something (and) he was just dancing so crazily behind us,” Miracle said. “We just like danced with him though, I mean why not?”

Alyssa Rushman, an Arctic Monkeys fan, agreed that the audience members were actively involved with the performance.

“All the visual effects used, I feel like it really engages the audience really well,” Rushman said. “The audience was really cool. All their fans seemed really chill … (and) really wanted to be there.”

When I purchased my almost $300 ticket to last year’s Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival in Manchester, Tenn., I pictured myself frolicking through a field, possibly intoxicated, while listening to tunes by more than 160 awesome bands of every genre. When I left the festival before one of my favorite bands, Arcade Fire, even went on stage, I rejoiced with my friend and shouted, “We made it out alive!” as I barreled down the highway in my grandma’s minivan.

Bonnaroo 2012 has an impressive lineup, including Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Beach Boys, Alice Cooper, Bon Iver, Ludacris and The Roots, but is it worth it?

In my opinion, the folks behind Bonnaroo have decided — not surprisingly, — to make as much money off the festival as possible, which has resulted in too many people and not enough resources to accommodate them. Despite having an incredible lineup, the overcrowding of dehydrated, sickly people overshadowed the music. The festival, which is held in the middle of June, has seen 10 deaths in the last eight years, many of them heat-related. If this festival was moved to May, or some other time when Manchester doesn’t feel like Hades, I probably wouldn’t still be complaining about it a year later. It was too hot to sleep after 8 a.m. Maybe I had seen too much footage of music festivals on TV, but this wasn’t at all the freewheelin’, good-spirited time I had imagined.

When my friend and I arrived after the seven-hour drive from Columbus, we had to wait in traffic for another four hours to enter the park. By noon, the smoldering sun and humidity had reached 98 degrees. The Centeroo, where all the action happens, was a good two-mile hike from our campsite. Once we reached the entrance, we stood in the sun for another hour, waiting to enter.

Going from the Centeroo to the campsite between shows is not really an option, so you have to be prepared to stay all day. The only relief is the air-conditioned Cinema Tent, which is another one- or two-hour wait, depending on the movies and celebrities scheduled to appear.

While I might not be the best camper, I’m also not typically the biggest whiner, but the heat, humidity and lack of water stations, showers and toilets made every part of the festival miserable. As I mentioned, my friend and I left right before Arcade Fire went on stage, which was the band I had wanted to see most. The thought of staying one more day was unbearable. Because we were parked near the outskirts, we managed to weave through the maze of tents, vehicles and bodies. Leaving the festival was the highlight of the weekend.

If you choose to ignore this warning, I have some advice:

1. Get a huge group to go (minimum 24 people) and stay in the Groop Camping area. You will have a reserved spot, located closer to Centeroo and a water station, and it is only an extra $30 per person (Group camping for the 2012 show is currently sold out, but take your chances on the waiting list, anyway).

2. Dress as if you are going to run a marathon in the middle of summer, but with less clothing.

3. Because of Bonnaroo’s jam-packed schedule, it is tough to see all of the concerts you hope to attend. Unless you want to see your favorite band from a mile away, you have to get to the stages early and miss out on other performances.

4. Save your money and plan a trip to Indio, Calif. for Coachella or Chicago for Lollapalooza. I haven’t been to either, but the weather and accommodations have to be better than Bonnaroo.

The entire experience probably cost $700. Maybe it was an especially hot and dry year for Bonnaroo, but for the amount of money, effort and crushed high hopes suffered, I wouldn’t risk wasting another weekend in Manchester — not even to see my favorite musicians of all time, Radiohead.

In fact, the Canadian-born MC seemed somewhat surprised when the sold-out crowd at the Schottenstein Center recited the now-infamous line from his verse on “Stay Schemin’” without his aid as part of his set on the Club Paradise Tour, which made its fourth stop on a 17-city U.S. college tour Saturday.

Drake’s fleeting set, which was clocked in at just fewer than 90 minutes, was comprised of many of the rapper’s chart-toppers, including “Forever,” “Headlines” and “Over,” but mostly featured selections from his last album, “Take Care,” which was released Nov. 15.

Propped against a monstrous video screen and with the aid of a live band and lighting effects that could have triggered epilepsy, Drake’s performance was good, but not great. Club hits such as “The Motto” and “Headlines,” which wrapped the set, got the crowd going — it didn’t hurt that the video screen projected the lyrics for the latter — and his ballads, such as “Take Care,” which ended with a rather poignant guitar solo, presented a nice dichotomy representative of the rapper’s library.

Known for being a bit softer than the stereotypical MC, Drake made no qualms publicly displaying his humility. He took a lengthy break in the middle of his set to shout-out fans, including one waving a Canadian flag, a girl on crutches and a patron wearing a knock-off Drake T-shirt. In fact, before walking off stage, he said the Schott “is still my favorite place to perform in the entire world,” and that the sold-out crowd was “one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” That might have something to do with his verse in “Uptown,” in which he raps, “I see all this money through my Ohio State Buckeyes.”

Despite that, parts of the show felt wonky. Enormous video screens can add a dazzling visual element to a show, but it didn’t here. It primarily flashed grainy, black-and-white images, ranging from girls taking shots for “Marvins Room” to footage of a boxing match during “Forever,” in what was its best use. In fact, it was groan-inducing on “Practice” when it flashed rather gratuitous images of women shaking their rears.

The live band was a nice touch but felt under-utilized as its impact was never really felt, apart from “Take Care.” Jay-Z, who brought a horn section, two drum sets and hype men with his live band when he performed at the Schott in 2009, did it much better.

Drake has quite a devoted fan base, as was evident by the startling number of high school girls who wore skimpy outfits presumably thinking they would impress the crooner. He had his moments — when he told the crowd the noise level was only an eight out of 10, the crowd responded by erupting to a decibel level the men’s basketball team will never dream of hearing — but on the whole, it wasn’t as energetic as other hip-hop shows that have come to Columbus. Ludacris, Jay-Z and Lupe Fiasco all seemingly got a bigger rise out of their crowds, but given that Drake’s library has a higher ratio of ballads than theirs, the fact that dancing was at a minimum in comparison can be somewhat forgiven.

Given the nature of Drake’s catalog, his energy was commendable, though the lack of an encore and tracks such as “Fancy” were head-scratchers. Draped in a towel and guzzling bottles of Dasani after stripping down to a tank-top for “Marvins Room,” however, showed Drizzy was giving it his all for a venue and tour for which he had noticeable admiration.

Despite the show’s flaws, Drake did the best with what he had, even if what was around him, at times, felt (Canada) dry.

This preceded the song “All About Tonight,” and set the tone for what was an entertaining concert.

After a blaring “Baggage Claim,” by Shelton’s wife, Miranda Lambert, played to a dark arena, Shelton appeared, being lowered onto the stage in one of three silos that decorated the stage. I wish I could tell you what exactly happened after that, but it was in that moment that the middle-aged woman behind me was getting her groove on so much that her beer was drenching the seats in front of her, soaking my legs in the process.

I tried to not let this dampen my experience at the show, as Shelton belted out his version of “Footloose.” What Shelton, country music and the ‘80s classic have in common, I couldn’t begin to guess. But it was a good way to amp up the crowd from the get-go.

Shelton strayed from playing songs solely from his latest album, “Red River Blue,” to my content, and played hits such as “Don’t Make Me,” “Some Beach” and “Home.”

After the fourth song, I grew to be pretty bored. Perhaps it was the lack of company, but I’m leaning on the side of country music’s struggle to be more than a man standing on a stage with a guitar. Shelton’s way to combat this was with great stories and friendliness toward the audience.

Shelton shared that when he gets nervous, he tends to drink, and while he was drinking onstage throughout the night, he appeared to be completely at home.

Shelton talked about how “people in Nashville” don’t like that he likes to drink on stage, or how he “gets nervous” and will get on Twitter and tweet about deer, beer and boobs.

“I’m a country singer for God’s sake!” Shelton said. “They don’t think I should be up here drinking and playing country music? I don’t know about you Ohio, but I like to drink beer.”

This anecdote, which was one of many of the night, set the stage for his latest hit song “Kiss My Country Ass,” where he sent a tweet on stage that read, “If you don’t like my tweets, you can kiss my country ass.”

The transition from the sometimes dancing, drinking Shelton belting out “The More I Drink” to the passionate display of “She Wouldn’t Be Gone,” was well-balanced and is part of the reason the show was so enjoyable.

Fellow comic Tony Hinchcliffe opened for Ross. Hinchcliffe, a small-statured man, couldn’t catch the crowd’s attention quite well. Remarking that his bodily features categorize the comedian as “gay as fuck,” Hinchcliffe’s set hardly swayed from frat-boy humor with plenty of gay jokes (“I look like I could take a clobbering of dicks”), pot stories and the occasional riff at audience members (many of whom heckled continuously).

After Hinchcliffe’s mediocre set, WLUM’s Kramp & Adler, who seemingly host every comedy show in the Milwaukee area, introduced Ross. Ross entered with an extreme mop-top that nearly reached his shoulders, and immediately proclaimed that Adler works for 102.1, and weighs 1002.1 pounds. And so the deprecation began.

Immediately, Ross began taking shots at Milwaukee, the Pabst and Wisconsin in general. Like other visitors from Southern California, Ross was upset about the weather, but he was even more astounded by the amount of overweight Milwaukeeans (“Mil-walk-ee? No one walks here” and “I ordered a brat and they asked, ‘Would you like a brat with your brat?’”). Ross was also excited about the Pabst’s history, asking where Lincoln got shot and proclaiming that Francis Scott Key received oral sex in the balcony (“…and the rockets’ red glare!”).

“I’m here to put the sin in Wisconsin,” Ross piped. “It took me four hours to think of that.”

The raunchy comic went on with a number of written jokes – some of which appeared on Comedy Central specials and others that were fairly recent. Among them, stabs at Steve Jobs (“He was thinner than the iPad 2,” among others) and Don Cornelius’s “electric sui-slide.” It wasn’t long until Ross did what so many fans solely knew him for.

Asking for volunteers to be roasted, a gaggle of fans instantly rushed to the stage. “This is the ugliest group of people I’ve ever seen,” Ross said. The Roastmaster went down the line, giving each member a piece of his mind. Among them, a Native American who stood in front of a man wearing a long sleeve American Flag denim shirt (“Watch out, he’s the enemy! Hoo-ah-hoo-ha Hoo-ah-hoo-ha,” Ross chanted) and a peculiarly drunk woman that wouldn’t stop her high-pitched giggling (Ross asked her, “How much do you charge to haunt the Pabst?” but later realized that she was “like the Forrest Gump of un-fuckable prostitutes.”) At least no one took him too seriously, although Ross often found himself being feebly kicked and slapped.

Ross ended his set by asking crowd members to play piano while he recited some poems. Though one man began playing what he called “Ambien in C-minor,” a young woman stole the stage. Ross more or less asked her anything that would make any feminist cringe, and offered to show her his “Bronze Fonz.” After exiting to the lobby for a meet and greet, Ross escaped without any harassment charges.

Lady Antebellum, Darius Rucker and Thompson Square stopped at Penn State U. as one of the year’s first dates on the Own the Night 2012 World Tour, one of the country’s largest United States tours.

Thompson Square, the musical union of married couple Kiefer and Shawna Thompson, kicked off the evening with a much-too-short 20-minute set.

The pair flanked a wall of amps for the guitar-heavy leads of the male Thompson, delivering a revelatory performance that would far outshine Hootie and the Blowfish frontman Rucker’s set.

Thompson Square opened with “I Got You,” a fun, Lady A-influenced track comparing life without a companion to a car without gasoline, among many other metaphors. The chemistry between Kiefer and Shawna never ceased, especially on tracks like “Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not.”

The U.S. Country number one single straight from Thompson Square’s self-titled debut album represented one of the highlights of the evening, marking a bright performance for a group that has been hailed as the future of country.

Where Thompson Square felt youthful and vital, Rucker seemed to pander, pleasing audiences with hits like “Alright,” but never reaching beyond decency.

It’s tenuous to blame this on Rucker’s “laid back” feel. He trudged through Hootie and the Blowfish hits like “Hold My Hand” and “Only Wanna Be with You,” admirably but with reservations.

Some signs of life did appear on tracks like “Southern State of Mind” and “Come Back Song.”

If nothing else, Rucker appeared happy to perform, shuffling around with a guitar around his shoulder and a near-constant smile.

That wasn’t enough to compete, sandwiched between solid sets from Thompson Square and Lady Antebellum. He was humored enough to comment about his children admiring Lady A more than him.

“I’d like to thank Lady A for making me interesting to my kids,” Rucker joked before ending with a dismal and out-of-place version of Prince’s “Purple Rain.”

Lady Antebellum — Hillary Scott, Charles Kelley, Dave Haywood and their band — dazzled for the diverse remainder of the evening.

If it’s any testament to their prowess on stage, glances from Scott and Kelley seemed induce tears almost instantly in audience members, carried by a huge production.

“We’ve been so looking forward to this tour,” Scott said, reflecting on this year’s tour leg.

On “We Owned the Night” and “Our Kind of Love,” Lady Antebellum owned its larger than life country crossover sound, with the right mix of playful interaction between Scott, Kelley and Haywood.

Haywood’s musicianship shined on a tender “Singing Me Home,” backed by a versatile back-up band. Perhaps the night’s best moment came from covers of “Midnight Rider” and “Black Water” with Thompson Square and Rucker.

Lady Antebellum went acoustic with “American Honey,” laying bare the harmonies that keep the group together. A low-key encore performance of “Need You Now” provided closure to a night indicating country’s future.

Head writer of Saturday Night Live and host of SNL‘s “Weekend Update” Seth Meyers performed standup comedy last Friday to an excited audience at Carnegie Mellon U. While he is most well known for his humorous commentary on politics and news, Meyers’ routine focused more on his personal experiences and on funny stories from his life. This different persona of the popular comedian made for a surprising and hilarious show.

Most comedians, musicians, and other entertainers often open their performances by playing to the audience — talking about the city and their experiences there over the years. Meyers was no exception, going right into detailed descriptions of Pittsburgh and the local culture.

However, he wasn’t merely indulging the audience with humor about the city. He discussed how his father is a Pittsburgh native from East Liberty, and how Pittsburgh Steelers games were a Sunday ritual growing up. He wasn’t just name-dropping places in the city; rather, Meyers had actual experiences here, which was a great personal touch to the show.

It would be impossible for Meyers not to discuss the Republican presidential candidates, given its prominence in the news and his position on “Weekend Update.” Never overtly political, he described Rick Perry as “George Bush 0.5” and compared Ron Paul to the old guy in horror movies who warns the kids that the house is haunted.

Meyers’ better material revolved around his personal observations, such as the varying levels of intoxication in Las Vegas and how tough bar patrons don’t appreciate sarcasm.

While the show had the audience consistently laughing, there were a few sections that seemed rather lackluster. In one portion of his show, Meyers presented rejected “Weekend Update” news briefs that were too risqué for television. The punch lines often dealt with old topics, and thus felt stale. Not only did they lack the flavor that jokes dealing with current issues have, but they also lacked originality, staying afloat only through the crutch of crude humor. While not detrimental to the show, it was definitely one of the least enjoyable points.

Despite this, Meyers had the audience captivated. One of the funniest parts of the show was when he retold stories from his experience as the headliner for the 2011 White House Correspondents’ Dinner. He recounted the event itself, but also discussed what happened before and after the show, such as his awkward handshake with President Barack Obama.

He continued with his story, explaining that his expectations of being featured as the hilarious headliner of the dinner were dashed when, the following day, Taliban leader Osama bin Laden was killed. His admission that he was the only person in America who was upset that they had killed bin Laden had many in the audience nearly in tears.

Away from his news desk at “Weekend Update,” Meyers still delivered a performance that was entertaining and comedic. His connection with the audience was undeniable. The show dipped at times when he revisited old SNL material, but Meyers’ ability to entertain with unique content made for a hilarious and personal show.

Her stage presence seemed lacking, but her appreciation for the crowd was genuine. Especially with surprise guest, T.I., the energy and excitement at sold-out concert at the 21,000 person capacity venue was palatable. The popularity of Taylor Swift is undeniable. She has won Grammy awards, sold over 4 million albums and broken Guinness World Records. And not without reason. Her songs speak to the everyman in America, well, the every-girl, anyway. She is country enough to be different than every other pop act and mainstream enough to win the hearts of millions of fans.

For others, however, she is neither here nor there and therefore nowhere at all. She is not country enough to be country and she’s not a soulless pop princess either; she has just enough flavor to be adored by the mainstream and mainstream enough to be popular in the country sector. And on top of all of this, she even has a modicum of talent. There are better instrumentalists than Swift. There are certainly better singers. There are better writers, but none of them are probably as good-looking (or young).

What Swift does is win the hearts and minds of her audience through an honest, relatable style that young people will identify with and older people will reminisce about. She typically uses real names to yearn for love lost or love found. While it seems kind of silly, it is an effective method which her album sales prove.

While Swift can crafts songs masterfully, she cannot sing them. Her voice is sweet enough and does not sound shrill or raspy, but it is no wonder she got sick and had to reschedule her July concerts. She struggles with notes outside her comfortable speaking range and pushes so hard to hit them that if she is not careful, she may damage her voice. This is not a problem in the studio where black magic abounds to put even Rihanna in tune, but live performances may surprise some people who are familiar with her unchallenging songs.

But really, this can even make her more endearing to her fans, who probably do not know much about singing either. But what Swift lacks in vocal ability (and dance moves) she makes up for in authenticity. The show has theatrical moments with elaborate sets and a little story telling, but the backup professionals were much better at hitting their marks than Swift.  Amazing wire-ballet and fireworks were exciting and frame Swift well, who herself eschewed the more challenging theatrics. Instead, she connects with the audience and brings them into her world. This sells the tickets and the albums and generates millions of fans across the world. The singing can be faked and the dancing left the to professionals, but this ability to send her emotions and thoughts to the audience is real.

And her fans definitely were receiving them. When Swift took the stage, a scream rattled the foundations of Philips Arena which resonated far above the treble clef. Dogs in a three-mile radius howled, and bats fled for their lives. Surprise guest T.I. did nothing to quiet the audience. The shrieks of delight only let down during the songs, when every member of the audience was singing along, including the older people/chauffeurs (parents). Swift brought out tens of thousands of different people two nights in a row. This kind of popularity has at least a kernel of verisimilitude in it.

Swift is immensely popular, with good reason. She has a loyal fan-base of a surprisingly diverse people who do not really mind that Swift is not a skilled singer. Instead, fans love Swift for her blend of honesty and approachability, which carries her far. She connects with the audience and doesn’t let go. And while she may not be a natural-born stage queen, she loves her audience and that love is reciprocated in spades. The Swift machine is just getting revved up and at this rate, Swift will be blending country and pop for years to come.

From the minute his name was announced until his final bow, the crowd was engaged and visibly entertained.

Stewart warmed up the audience with his first impressions of Bloomington and the people in Indiana.

The crowd erupted when he commented that Bloomington was a special kind of place and told a story about how he saw a Taser store and a free-trade coffee shop right next door to each other.

He then moved to his usual political banter and scrutiny of the media that can be seen regularly on his show, “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.” His popular “Indecision 2012” segment also found its way into his stand-up and received applause.

Stewart loosely reenacted the “I love America” speech Rick Perry gave at one of the Republican debates and turned it into a very descriptive sexual confession of lust, complete with Perry’s distinctive accent.

When audience members shouted topic suggestions to him, he was engaging and smooth. The crowd remained ecstatic throughout his performance without a dry or awkward moment.

IU sophomore Tyler Howell, a self-proclaimed big fan of Stewart, said he was crying from laughter the entire time and loved the environment of the live show.

“There were no holds barred, compared to the (TV) show, so he was able to let loose a little more and have a little more fun with it,” Howell said.

Stewart continued with politics, discussing President Barack Obama losing his mojo and the differences between his presidency and George W. Bush’s term.

He called Bush the kid in sixth grade who gives a book report and clearly hasn’t read the material but whom you admire for his blind confidence. Instead Obama was the kid in sixth grade who gives a book report on a book he read in first grade and can’t believe everyone else is just now getting around to it.

“I loved the show,” IU freshman Bryt Hiatt said. “It was hilarious — even better than I expected.”

The highlight of the performance was Stewart’s transition into more personal comedy, things fans don’t get to hear on his structured show.

He talked about parenthood, growing up Jewish, religion, prejudice and ignorance.

“I didn’t expect as much non-political comedy, and I thought that was really well done,” IU sophomore Lizzy Roeder said.

Stewart exited to standing and applauding, only to run back to tell one final story.

He talked about how, after 9/11, he never thought New York or America would be the same, or smile the same, again.

Then, one day, he saw a homeless man on his stoop doing something outrageous, without shame or discretion, and he cracked a smile and said to himself, “Ah, we’re gonna be fine.”

The crowd burst into laughter, and Stewart left to an even louder standing ovation.

The Champlain Valley Exposition hosted the Phish show that was “A Benefit For Vermont Flood Recovery,” and proceeds from ticket sales, as well as additional donations, went to residents of Vermont victimized by Irene.

The immense crowd of nearly 12,000 people confirmed the event an utter success as benefits amounted to more than $1.2 million.

A golden sunset shed light on a lively preshow parking lot, which was riddled with dreadlocks, tie dye, drug dealers, tail-gaters and jungle cats — yes, there was a man in a tiger suit.

It seemed to be an archetypal cast of characters, one that could only be summoned by the likes of Phish, especially when one considers the band’s seven-year absence from Vermont.

Many devoted fans reflected their appreciation for Phish by braving the incredibly long ticket lines, and some held their ground throughout the night.

“I waited in line for almost 14 hours,” attendee and avid Phish fan Sarah Dattilio said.

While some devotees offered mere hours of their time for the band, others expressed their years of adherence and love for the Vermont-born group.

“This is my 95th Phish concert, and my first one was on Dec. 2, 1995,” enthusiast Stephen Blackstone said.

As light began to leave the landscape, a seemingly eager crowd made way towards the stage as an energy seven years dormant was brewing.

Perhaps to the surprise of the audience, Gov. Peter Shumlin took the stage prior to the show to speak of the state’s fortitude following Irene.

His inspiring words bred a crowd that cheered wildly, and it was apparent that Shumlin’s presence had magnified the already-present sense of unity among Vermonters and Phish fans alike.

“We are going to rebuild this state stronger than when she found us because of you,” Shumlin said.

Shumlin’s encouraging speech seemed to further foster the excitement of the already ardent crowd, as they cheered and raised their hands to the band who was assembling their formation on stage.

The crowd became a bedlam as front man Trey Anastasio’s smiling mouth crooned the words of “Chalk Dust Torture,” the opening song of the band’s three and a half-hour-long set. It is argued that the lyrics to this song reflect some drug-related undertones, making it very much relatable to a portion of the crowd — let’s not kid ourselves, a sizable drug scene is nearly always prevalent at Phish concerts.

The band proceeded to play tunes such as “Funky Bitch,” “Bathtub Gin” and “Suzy Greenberg” — they portrayed a fairly diverse collection of their repertoire.

After a long journey through a sonic roller coaster of jams that ranged from upbeat to slow and stark psychedelic, the crowd seemed to be in awe as comments were made about how incredible the show was, and how happy people were that they had made it there.

“It was the best show I’ve ever seen,” first year Sam Frankour said. “It was something everyone could be proud of, not just for the music but also for the cause behind it — all for the sake of the state of Vermont.”

HIGHS

Foo Fighters

Foo Fighters played the final set on the final night, a coveted headlining spot opposite Deadmau5. While I was disappointed that I didn’t get to catch Deadmau5′s set, my heart belongs to Foo front man Dave Grohl, and the band’s set on Sunday proved why. Foo played a combination of songs from their newest album “Wasting Light” and old favorites such as “Learn to Fly” and “Best of You.” When their first few songs were so good that Mother Nature decided she didn’t want to miss the show, Foo tore through an unforgettable “My Hero,” encouraging fans to jump around and sing despite the monsoon-like rains that came over Grant Park. While some audience members ran for cover, most people stayed put, literally soaking up the experience.

Grohl ripped artists who use electronics to play their instruments for them before rocking through a few more songs. With the band standing onstage soaking wet, shaking their hair and smiling the whole time, the audience couldn’t help but enjoy themselves in spite of the uncooperative weather. In a highlight of the set, Grohl thanked the audience  and performed a stripped-down solo version of “Times Like These,” only to be joined by the rest of the band at the end, amping the song up to its usual rock form on the final runs through the chorus. The band, who refused to waste a minute of their allotted time, chose not to leave the stage and return for an encore. Instead, Grohl recalled attending the first Lollapalooza in Los Angeles in 1991 with Kurt Cobain, his Nirvana bandmate. After thanking Lollapalooza founder Perry Farrell for changing music, Foo played a heartfelt “Everlong” to close their set, easily the weekend’s best in my opinion, and the festival. I’m not sure anything will ever feel that real again, but it sure was good while it lasted.

Fitz & the Tantrums

I had only heard one or two songs by the relatively new band before catching their Saturday set, but I had high expectations for the group which is known for their Motown sound. And boy, oh boy did they deliver, with what I’d consider the second day’s best set. Michael Fitzpatrick and Noelle Scaggs, the singers in the group, brought such passion and soul to the stage that you couldn’t stand still. They had the audience singing riffs back to them. At one point, they told everyone in the audience to get low to the ground and to jump up when they hit the chorus. Old and young folks alike were dancing and clapping despite sweltering midday Chicago heat. It was true entertainment and musicianship, with Fitz and Scaggs working the stage like seasoned pros. Saxophonist James King carried the band’s rocking tunes while the rest of the band created soulful perfection. They rolled through songs such as “Breaking the Chains of Love” and their first single, the incredibly catchy “Moneygrabbers.” Now, I’ve never met a “moneygrabber,” but the group was so convincing that they had me thinking I had. And they did all of it without a guitar.

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals

Who says girlie-girls can’t rock? Potter, sporting a shiny, very short dress and mountain-high heels, flipped her hair back and forth while tearing through songs such as “Ah Mary,” “Stop the Bus” and her recent hit “Paris (Oh La La),” during which she had the whole crowd singing “Oh La La La La-pa-looza.” Sprinting back and forth between her guitar and the keys, Potter kept the audience engaged the entire time, dancing right along with her. Her musicianship was fantastic and her powerful rock voice rang out across the north side of Grant Park.

Walk the Moon

Hailing from Cincinnati, Walk the Moon brought with it a large crowd of Ohioans who traveled just to see them. In an early Saturday time slot, they played through the relentless heat and had everyone in the crowd moving. Their cover of David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” was a fun surprise, but it was their performance of audience-favorite “Anna Sun” that captured my heart. I’ll admit I had never heard of them before my best friend dragged me to the park early for their set, but part of Lolla’s appeal is the chance to find new bands to love. Walk the Moon will certainly be among my favorite Lolla finds for years to come.

LOWS

Cee Lo Green

After his meltdown onstage at Coachella and a shaky performance at Bonnaroo, Green needed to save face in my book. I saw Cee Lo five years ago at Lolla when he was half of power-duo Gnarls Barkley, along with Danger Mouse, and he put on an incredible show. Unfortunately for him and the rest of the audience, Saturday was not Cee Lo’s day. Known for his crazy costumes, he walked out in a black get-up with spikes all over it, looking like something from “Super Mario Bros.,” and he proceeded to start and stop songs halfway through. He did this several different times throughout the shaky set. Part of the blame lies with Green’s technicians as his sound was completely muffled, but ultimately, Cee Lo fell far short of my expectations. He chastised the audience for being disengaged, but Green himself didn’t seem to be all there. While “Bright Lights, Bigger City” and his cover of The Violent Femmes’ “Gone Daddy Gone,” along with his hit song “F*** You” were highlights of the set, it seems Cee Lo is the one we’ll be forgetting.

The Cars

How can you possibly go wrong with a nostalgia-inducing band playing hits such as “Good Times Roll”? Well, when the band members, specifically lead singer Ric Ocasek, decide they’re going to stand still like they’re bored by their own music, it’s a cue to the audience to check out. And check out, I did. The combination of heat and lackluster music meant that rather than dancing along to some classic hits, I chose to watch the video screens from a distance so I could bolt quickly to find another band. Very disappointing.

Skylar Grey

I didn’t actually see Grey, but from all accounts I heard, she was unimpressive. While I was busy watching Fitz and the Tantrums, one friend of mine watched Grey’s set, which she described as “weird.” My friend said that no one in the audience knew Grey’s songs, mostly because Grey’s fame comes from her featured performances with other artists. Some of her more notable ones include Dr. Dre’s “I Need a Doctor” and Lupe Fiasco’s “Words I Never Said.” But at a festival like Lolla, playing unknown songs isn’t usually synonymous with “festival low,” unless you proceed to ramble about completely random, unrelated topics between these unknown songs as Grey did.

City and Colour

To be fair, this set wasn’t a bad set. It just wasn’t good. I like City and Colour, but I didn’t feel as though I took anything away from this performance that I wouldn’t have gotten by simply listening to the CD. Rather than getting into the music, I was perfectly content with listening from a distance while sitting on a picnic blanket. I didn’t want to be content with sitting at all this weekend. This set in the city could have had a lot more color to it for me.

Fence Crashing

Apparently some people thought that instead of paying for their tickets like everyone else, they would simply gather in groups large enough to just crash through the fences that walled off Grant Park. This caused security at the park a lot of unnecessary headaches, will cost the promoters a ton of money to fix and is generally frowned upon by people who actually paid for their tickets. Definitely a low.

Before Death Cab for Cutie took the stage, fellow Washington state natives The Lonely Forest played a largely forgettable, if not mildly enjoyable set. The band’s sound draws heavily from Death Cab’s, but lacks much of their originality and variety. They sound like something that I would have heard on MTV2 about eight years ago. In fact, they seemed something like what Owl City is to Ben Gibbard’s (lead singer of Death Cab for Cutie) side project, The Postal Service – they took many of the overarching ideas and the general sound from the original, with little regard for reproducing something remotely as good. To be fair, The Lonely Forest wasn’t absolutely terrible – something I can’t necessarily say for Owl City – and it was rather enjoyable to watch them careen about the stage with reckless abandon. Ah, youth.

Death Cab for Cutie began their set soon after, and were greeted by deafening applause from the audience. They quickly launched into fan favorite “I Will Possess Your Heart,” doing a damned good job reproducing the reverb-soaked extended introduction with minimal instrumentation and without the help of studio wizardry. Immediately, the band’s sound was extremely tight, and Gibbard’s distinctive voice filled the entire room.

It soon became clear that the band had a great command of their music. All four members effortlessly blew through demanding instrumental parts with what I can only call swagger. It’s a bit strange to see a band tear through performances of songs with quite emotional, delicate messages, but I suppose marrying Zooey Deschanel would put pep in just about anyone’s step. All three musicians, not bound by a drum set, were quite lively, moving about and generally having a great deal of fun. It’s quite refreshing to see such veteran musicians still able to jam onstage (perhaps credit can be partially given to the change in scenery provided by The Trocadero).

The band also made sure to play just about every song fans wanted to hear. The nearly two-hour-long set was packed with almost every hit the band has had to this point, as well as excellent album cuts and rarities. Songs were featured from everything from their first cassette tape, “You Can Play These Songs with Chords,” to their latest album, and they ensured to pick a healthy selection of songs from every stage in their career. While there wasn’t a good deal of crowd interaction beyond pleasantries, it’s very difficult to complain given the set they played.

Death Cab’s return to the Trocadero Theatre, their first visit since touring on 2003’s “Transatlanticism,” is best described as triumphant. Their decision to go on a tour of smaller clubs is a treat to fans across the country, giving them the opportunity for an intimate encounter with Death Cab for Cutie, which was not possible for many years. The band certainly delivered in their performance, bringing incredible energy and enthusiasm to the set, and making it one show I will not soon forget.

After a quick opening set, regal red curtains opened and Swift emerged to a roar of applause from the nearly sold-out crowd. Fans boasting glow sticks and light-up signs cried out for Swift who, in her gold-fringed mini dress and cowgirl boots, smiled adoringly back.

Basking in the glow of the spotlight, Swift revealed a trail of lyrics down her left arm and a lucky “13″ drawn onto her right hand. She shared a few thoughts with the crowd about her tour before jumping right into the first three songs.

Armed with a red guitar and Cirque du Soleil-inspired dancers, she quickly had the audience singing along to songs like “Mine” and “Story of Us.” It wasn’t until Swift exited the stage following a performance of her first single, “Our Song,” that the crowds stopped to breathe and take in all of the excitement.

The calm did not last for long. Swift soon returned to the stage amidst a cloud of metallic confetti, dressed in a powder blue ball gown and perched at a white piano. The entire XL center buzzed as Swift began a seamless mash-up of One Republic’s “Apologize” and her own track, “Back to December.” She continued to power through the set, complete with plenty of eye-catching costume changes and intimate chats with the audience.

Swift connected to her fans with relatable songs about last kisses, first love, breakups, and following dreams. If the echo of the crowd singing along wasn’t enough, a wave of screams overcame the arena when Swift walked through the audience to an illuminated white tree, where she sang to 360 degrees of cheering fans. She even performed a medley of Train’s “Hey Soul Sister,” Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours,” and her own, “Fearless.”

Swift gave the crowd a well-rounded show, easily transitioning from up-tempo, romantic tracks to “Haunted,” a ballad about lost love. Her dancers added depth to the scene as they performed flips and spins while suspended midair above the stage. The show even included colorful pyrotechnics that poured sparks just feet from where Swift stood with her guitar.

For the last few songs in her set, Swift donned an ethereal nude dress and a sparkling white acoustic guitar. She settled atop a plush sofa and eased into the crowd-pleasing “Fifteen,” while a slideshow of band mates as teenagers played behind her.

Not to be outdone by the elaborate scene from earlier in the show, Swift mounted a moving balcony for her finale performance of “Love Story.” Camera flashes followed the 21-year-old starlet as she hovered through the audience, singing the hit single through every section of the cheering arena.

If Hartford’s turnout was any indication of Swift’s ability to attract loyal fans, then the all-American recording artist is in good shape for the rest of her tour. She showed her many levels of songwriting and humility, and gave the young audience a solid vocal performance.

Swift’s “Speak Now” tour features various opening acts and continues through late November. The next stop for the country-style sensation is the Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts this Saturday night.

Yes, those treasured golden gramophones are getting doled out Sunday night, sure to return to the usual clutches of the undeserving and profit-minded: once-talented megastars (Eminem, Kings of Leon), teen sensations (Katy Perry, the cast of “Glee”, Justin Bieber), dinosaurs of rock (Robert Plant, Neil Young) and John Mayer (seriously, John Mayer is like the evil Lord Sauron of the Grammys— it’s like they’re trying to return to their master).

The academy is resistant to modernity, bent upon spectacle and a general menace to any “product” unlikely to rise above the bottom line. In a time when buzz bands are discovered, emerge and flare out online in mere months, the academy just sits back and judges “excellence” by the profits that roll in when they ought to be in search of an original band or sound.

Here are a few brief examples of their ineptitude before we dive into my predictions for this year’s winners.

Resistant to modernity

Had Kanye West chosen to unveil his “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” two months later, Big Boi’s progressive production “Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty” would’ve claimed the honor of Best Rap Album of 2010 in my book. It would’ve achieved the same feat in any of the three years preceding 2010 as well, during which Jive Records (owned by Sony Music Entertainment) refused to promote the record on the grounds that it wasn’t radio-friendly.

The collaboration with OutKast band mate André 3000 and Raekwon, “Royal Flush,” was torpedoed as an ‘Internet single’ and the whole project was delayed for years, denying people the joy of listening to “Shutterbugg” (which charted at No. 20 in this country) and the smooth Gucci Mane collaboration’s “Shine Blockas.”

Bent upon spectacle

It only took eight years and a sold-out Madison Square Garden show before the academy invited Arcade Fire, who have been performing the hell out of “Wake Up” in tiny clubs since 2003, to play the Grammys this year alongside Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and others.

They’re the biggest spectacle in popular music right now, regardless of their relation to the mainstream. Their music is certainly substantive, though the same can’t be said for Katy Perry, whose catalogue of music glistens and shines like a lollipop wrapper that, when removed and tasted, proves to be a confection so rotten with clichés that you can’t help but reach for the nearest bristled object to scrape it off your tongue. Strip her of her makeup, elaborate stage setups and choreography and she’ll resemble any college girl who rolled out of bed, as comedian Russell Brand recently proved by tweeting an unflattering wake-up shot of her.

Menace to art

“I’ve got reservations about so many things, but not about you,” Jeff Tweedy sang on “Reservations,” from on Wilco’s 2002 aching opus “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.” Other lyrical masterstrokes on “Foxtrot” are similes that belong with the best in modern American literature (“let’s undress just like cross-eyed strangers”) and wonderful wordplay (“I’m not gonna get caught callin’ the pot, kettle black”).

Tweedy struggled with depression and drugs recording “Foxtrot” but his greatest conflict was with Reprise Records (owned by Warner Music Group), which refused to release the record on grounds that it was just too bizarre, eventually signing the rights over to the band to ward off the enormous amount of negative press they received for it.

Tweedy signed with the smaller Nonesuch Records and subsequently achieved universal acclaim, as well as a Gold certification from the Recording Industry Association of America. What would’ve happened if Reprise had just sat on “Foxtrot?”

All right, so there’s my gripe about the recording industry. Now we may continue to their annual self-laudatory wank-fest, the Grammy Awards. Let it be known that our opinion on “Who Should Win” part is (obviously) limited to those nominated.

Record of the Year nominees
“Nothin’ On You” – B.o.B. featuring Bruno Marsthe
“Love The Way You Lie” – Eminem featuring Rihanna
“F*** You” – Cee Lo Green
“Empire State of Mind” – Jay-Z and Alicia Keys
“Need You Now” – Lady Antebellum

Going to win: Lady Antebellum

Should win: Jay-Z and Alicia Keys

Sorry Cee Lo, but your totally awesome kiss-off is too much of a novelty and too much fun to win. Nobody believes angry Eminem anymore and “Nothin’ On You” lacks Lady Antebellum’s mid-song confession to breakdown to triumphant end-of-song reunion structure. Jigga’s too-long ode to New York is powered by an original beat and Alicia Keys’ best chorus in years. It’s the best of a bad category.

Album of the Year nominees:
“The Suburbs” – Arcade Fire
“Recovery” – Eminem
“Need You Now” – Lady Antebellum
“The Fame Monster” – Lady Gaga
“Teenage Dream” – Katy Perry

Going to win: Arcade Fire

Should win: Arcade Fire

Nobody’s worked harder in the last couple of years than Arcade Fire, who will earn their meaningless trophy by the sweat of their formerly indie brows. Upstart Lady Gaga’s been huge, but her aesthetic’s best expressed through video, Katy Perry isn’t even the best album of that title this year (see Beach House’s “Teen Dream”), Lady Antebellum are super-repetitive and, like I said earlier, Eminem’s schtick is as worn out as Neil Young’s face.

Song of the Year nominees:
“Beg Steal Or Borrow” – Ray LaMontagne
“F*** You” – Cee Lo Green
“The House That Built Me” – Tom Douglas and Allen Shamblin (Miranda Lambert)
“Love the Way You Lie” – Alexander Grant, Skylar Grey and Eminem (with Rihanna)
“Need You Now” – Dave Haywood, Josh Kear, Charles Kelley and Hillary Scott

Going to win: Cee Lo

Should win: Cee Lo

The record and song of the year gets awarded to the same song about half the time, but “F*** You” is far too likeable to get snubbed by both honors. Sassy Oklahoma native Miranda Lambert is a clear-cut dark horse though, damaging her “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” cred with a tender if boring country ballad.

Best New Artist nominees:
Justin Bieber
Drake
Florence + The Machine
Mumford & Sons
Esperanza Spalding

Going to win: Justin Bieber

Should win: Florence + The Machine

The best new artist category is a regular display of how the senile the music industry is. Usually the nominees have been around for close to half a decade and this year’s batch is no different. Nothing’s unexpectedly generated more money and attention in the last two years than Bieber Fever, so I guess that trumps the much older and more talented Esperanza Spalding and Florence Welch.

Best Pop Vocal Album nominees:
“My World 2.0” – Justin Bieber
“I Dreamed A Dream” – Susan Boyle
“The Fame Monster” – Lady Gaga
“Battle Studies” – John Mayer
“Teenage Dream” – Katy Perry

Going to win: John Mayer

Should win: No one.

This is a loathsome category. Somehow the award went to The Black Eyed Peas last year, so it’s literally impossible to pick or redeem. I give the advantage to the Dark Lord Sauron since he won the 2006 award for “Continuum”.

Best Dance Recording nominees:
“Rocket” – Goldfrapp
“In For The Kill” – La Roux
“Dance In The Dark” – Lady Gaga
“Only Girl (In The World)” – Rihanna
“Dancing On My Own” – Robyn

Going to win: Lady Gaga

Should win: Robyn

The 80s are back in fashion in modern dance music, so it only makes sense that the award goes to the most retro-sounding song. Unfortunately, “In For The Kill” is nearly two years old and “Rocket” literally sounds like it was recorded in 1986. In a perfect world, Robyn would be rewarded for crafting a terrific record (“Body Talk”) with a top-notch single in “Dancing On My Own”, the kind of thing that makes straight men say “I can’t help but dance, I just love this song.” I would know, because I am one.

Best Rock Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocals nominees:
“Ready To Start” – Arcade Fire
“I Put A Spell On You” – Jeff Beck and Joss Stone
“Tighten Up” – The Black Keys
“Radioactive” – Kings of Leon
“Resistance” – Muse

Going to win: Arcade Fire

Should win: Arcade Fire

In case you missed me gushing about them earlier, Arcade Fire are the hardest-working band around these days. The only problem is that they were nominated for a song into which their secret weapon, Régine Chassagne, factors less prominently. I’d have gone with “Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)” which beautifully stomps and circles “The Suburbs” to its wistful, nostalgic close.

Best Alternative Music Album nominees:
The Suburbs – Arcade Fire
Infinite Arms – Band of Horses
Brothers – The Black Keys
Broken Bells – Broken Bells
Contra – Vampire Weekend

Going to win: Arcade Fire

Should win: Vampire Weekend

Band of Horses’ third record was the year’s biggest disappointment, Broken Bells is a snooze and The Black Keys benefited from a blitz of promotion and praise from classic-adoring “Rolling Stone”. That leaves kalimba-plinking “Contra” against my album of the year pick; it’s a no-brainer. Short, catchy, original and lovely, “Contra” is the best in this category.

Best Rap Album nominees:
“The Adventures of Bobby Ray” – B.o.B.
“Thank Me Later” – Drake
“Recovery” – Eminem
“The Blueprint 3” – Jay-Z
“How I Got Over” – The Roots

Going to win: Drake

Should win: The Roots (but seriously, Big Boi)

The severe lack of Big Boi completely invalidates this category (“My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” wasn’t released on time to be counted in this year’s race). Therefore, The Roots deserve it for allowing the awesome trio of lady singers from Norman Music Festival 3 headliners Dirty Projectors to open “How I Got Over” with their beautiful harmonic cooing. But seriously, it ought to be Big Boi.

At a comfortable 78 degrees Friday morning, Sahara Smith walked onto the Austin Ventures stage with her band — Jake Owen, Will Sexton and Mike Meadows — in a red dress, ready to play songs off of her acclaimed album, Myth of the Heart. The locally based singer-songwriter played a smoky, simmering rendition of “The Real Thing,” serenading the sleepy-eyed morning crowd with her brand of Americana-tinged folk rock.

One of the biggest attractions on Friday was GIVERS, a six-member indie-pop band out of Lafayette, La. Dual vocalists Taylor Guarisco and Tif Lamson elevated an already-effervescent setup of double drum kits, keys and guitar, and the band’s stage presence was enthusiastic and warm as they tore through their set of jangly, Afropop-influenced folk songs.

Baltimore indie-pop duo Beach House was one of the most well-attended shows Friday. Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally, along with their full band, played crowd favorites “Gila” and “Norway,” which sounded full and dense with texture, a far cry from their bare-bones South By Southwest performance at Red 7 in March 2009.

The penultimate in cool, The Strokes, closed out the night with an hour-long set — they began 15 minutes late and said they weren’t going to go offstage before the encore. “Fuck that, we’re just going to keep going,” vocalist Julian Casablancas said to cheers before proceeding to sing the “Thundercats” theme song and “Vision of Division.” All five original members, finally reunited after a brief and terrifying hiatus, played songs from their entire catalog. Crowds got a surprise when The Strokes played “New York City Cops,” a little-known track that was originally excluded from the band’s debut album release days after 9/11.

Saturday

The day didn’t really get going until The Black Lips took the stage at 3:30 p.m. Notorious for their rambunctious onstage antics, The Black Lips show was nothing short of mosh pits, sweat and good ol‘ rock ‘n’ roll.

Broken Bells’ stellar collaboration, Brian Burton (Danger Mouse, Gnarles Barkley) and James Mercer (The Shins), and catchy melodies, reminiscent of the musicians’ other projects, drew in a large, though subdued, crowd with heads bobbing and feet tapping.

Another incredible collaboration, Monsters of Folk, performed a seducing two-hour set as the sun began to set on the festival. Made up of Jim James (My Morning Jacket) Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes) and M. Ward (solo, She & Him), the group alternated between their original work, covers of The Roots and songs from Bright Eyes and M. Ward, all the while creating an intimate onstage camaraderie of a folk group comprised of old pals, making one of the most dynamic shows of the day.

Though the crowd was far too large to penetrate at electronic house artist Deadmau5’s show, the bass still resonated in the bodies of those standing 100 feet away. And despite technical difficulties with the sound at the beginning, the bodies continued to pulse the entirety of the set.

While a majority of the crowd went to Muse, and even though M.I.A. cut her hour-long set 10 minutes short, the entire show was nonstop energy. From a DJ pumping out heavy bass with a side of kitschy sound effects like gun shots, to the dancers in full burqas or ’80s garb gyrating on the stage, from the neon-colored videos on the screens to the vicious raps and yells of M.I.A. herself, the show was nothing short of ridiculous and a fantastic end to Saturday at ACL.

Sunday

In spite of Twin Cities-based indie band, Gayngs, having to cancel their 3 p.m. performance because of a stolen tour bus, the third and final day of the Austin City Limits Music Festival was a success.

Earlier acts of note were Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, whose punk rock tunes were accompanied by snarky Eagles references; Blind Pilot, whose quirky folk performance featuring a hand organ enticed the audience; and Yeasayer, a Brooklyn-based experimental rock group.
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros put on a diverse show, occasionally straying from lead singer Alex Ebert’s often husky vocals and venturing into more lighthearted, childlike melodies. Jade Castrinos joined Ebert near the end of the set to perform their much anticipated hit
song, “Home.”

Those wishing to forgo the sight of Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips crowd surf in his iconic giant hamster ball could have opted for a far less theatric, though still captivating, performance by Band of Horses. They pleased long-time fans by including songs from their 2006 album, Everything All The Time, on their set list.

A dapperly dressed The National paired frontman Matt Berninger’s baritone vocals with instrumentals that were more upbeat than on their albums. “Slow Show” in particular had the crowd passionately chanting along.

Though the Eagles made frequent quips about their age, stating that “Lyin’ Eyes” had been recorded “when the Dead Sea was just sick,” their cheesy attempts at making their work accessible to a younger generation seemed unnecessary. As Don Henley crooned the words to “Desperado,” the final song of the festival, nostalgic 50-somethings and tie-dye clad college kids swayed in unison.

“Either it’s misty out there or you guys have a lot of ganja that’s getting up in the breeze,” Mraz said to the crowd as the herbal haze floated up toward the stage. Concertgoers near the stage responded with cheers of approval.

True to form, the artist himself made no attempt to hide his love for the drug. During one of his songs he sang, “You can grow anything you want, you can have anything you want, you can smoke anything you want.”

Judging by the perseverance of the fog above the crowd, some fans took the last line as permission, lighting up throughout the show.

After an opening set by Robert Francis, a stereotypically unwashed and unkempt indie rocker, the stage was reset for Mraz.

During his set, Mraz could be seen munching food from a plastic container and drinking from an ecofriendly metal water bottle.

“I eat cantaloupe during the show — it’s what I do,” Mraz said during a quick snack break. “It’s healthy.”

Chowing down on fruit wasn’t the only quirky behavior Mraz displayed on stage. Between songs, he spoke to the audience in Italian and French and introduced a few songs with a Beatles-esque British accent. At the end of the performance of “Coyotes,” he impressed the crowd with an opera-style display of his falsetto.

It was clear that Mraz was there to engage and entertain the audience while enjoying the evening himself. During sexier songs, Mraz even showed off a secret talent for salsa dancing.

Fans excited by Mraz’s hip shaking abilities were in for a treat when he brought a fan named Holly out on stage to sing and dance with him.

“Is it OK if I say sweet nothings to you in Spanish?” Mraz asked Holly before starting the song. He sang while alternating between holding the lucky girl close to him and spinning her around in circles. At one point Mraz even offered her his knee to sit on and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

“Nobody put that on YouTube please, I will never hear the end of it.” Mraz said to the crowd once Holly left the stage, explaining that his girlfriend would be upset.

Mraz started the show strong with his eight-member band. The group went straight into one of his most recent radio hits, “Lucky.” Originally a duet with Colbie Caillat, the song served as a perfect opening to the show, showcasing both Mraz’s pristine vocals and the talent of his accompanists. The opener also highlighted how well Mraz and the band worked together and the fact that they were intent on having fun in front of the river.

His ensemble didn’t have an official name, but the singer referred to them as “ROTFLOL” for the night. Complete with drums, chimes, a small brass section, an accordion, keys, guitars and bass, the band served to enhance his music beyond the usually acoustic guitar sound.

Mraz understood the importance of playing crowd favorites throughout the show and planned his set list accordingly, book-ending the performance with “Lucky” and “I’m Yours” respectively and wowing the crowd with his first smash, “The Remedy,” midway through.

Concertgoers familiar only with the radio version “The Remedy” would have been surprised by Saturday night’s performance of the hit. Mraz and his band opted for a smoother, rhythmic reggae sound, slowing the track down so the crowd could sway along with it. It was a lazier California-meets-Jamaica adaptation that suited the feel of the evening.

Perhaps the only time the famously chill Mraz seemed uncomfortable on stage was when he introduced his opening act.

“My jeans are pretty tight,” Mraz said. The crowd responded with cheers and whistles, but he wasn’t looking for compliments.

Country musician Alan Jackson occupied the same stage just the day before, and split his skintight pants during his concert.

“I don’t want to be cursed by that,” Mraz added with a laugh.

This past Sunday, as the debut performer in Pittsburgh’s brand-new Consol Energy Center, Lady Gaga performed for wild fans in an epic four-act show that brought together Pittsburgh’s most eclectic people to celebrate the “Monster Ball.” Needless to say, the experience was mind-blowing.

By 10 a.m., there were already several people waiting outside of the arena, decked in outrageous Gaga costumes — sparkles, red lace, bikinis, masks, wigs, teddy bears, ripped clothing, and crazy sunglasses. A girl wearing the “Bad Romance” costume — a red lace dress with tan underclothes and a bright chef-like hat — was interviewed three times by the press. A boy clad in a pink Gaga bikini with tights and a blond wig was next to arrive, along with a high-school couple.

Everyone was dedicated to maintaining their places in line, ready to run into the stadium whenever the doors opened. Snacks were unpacked and the nine-hour waiting session began. It was only during the last few hours of waiting that the excitement grew — hundreds of people began to arrive, crowding the small line, and voices soared through the air in excitement as fights broke out and people rushed to buy Gaga T-shirts.

Finally, the moment that everyone had been waiting for arrived. The doors were opened and fans rushed into the stadium, scaling down the stairs to grab a seta. First on the stage was an exotic group called the Semi-Precious Weapons. Straight out of New York City, the band, like Gaga, gave audience members a spectacular visual performance while performing their high-energy rock tunes.

The crowd went wild when Lady Gaga appeared on stage. The combination of her unique costumes, stunning dance choreography, amazing set designs, crazy lighting features, and psychedelic video backdrops dazed everyone — most importantly, her voice thrilled the crowd as she played her piano and belted out her hit songs, always perfectly on key.

In addition to her amazing performance, the energy of Gaga’s fans was one of the most memorable aspects of the concert. This past year, Lady Gaga has soared to fame because she never failed to be unique, different, and extraordinary. She is also one of the few popular musicians today with the will to voice her opinions — the symbolism used in her concert clearly revealed her views on religion, gay rights, self-esteem, and acceptance. In her hit song “Alejandro,” a statue of Jesus appeared on stage, water pouring from the top of the statue and collecting in a pool on the stage. As the song progressed, the water turned red and the dance choreography became more expressive. The song ended with a kiss between two of the male dancers. During “Paparazzi,” the “fame monster” — a giant angler fish spanning the entire stage — gradually destroyed Lady Gaga. The effects were stunning and the crowd was in awe.

The near sold-out crowd kept screaming near the end of the concert.

As part of the 2010 Honda Civic Tour, Tennessee-based band Paramore rocked out the packed U. Central Florida Arena and gave the fans from Orlando quite an exciting show.

The opening acts were Kadawatha, New Found Glory and Tegan And Sara. Each of the opening bands performed for about half an hour followed by an intermission.

After each act, the crowd would get more and more excited; because it meant that Paramore would soon be coming out to perform. The floor was crowded with fans who stood in place for just under four hours, just so that they wouldn’t lose their places in the crowd and miss being as close as possible to the band.

“The crowd was pumped and extremely excited for them to come on,” said Leslie Barnett, a senior double-majoring in hospitality management and event management. “The anticipation was killing everyone, including me.”

After a while, the crowd was getting restless as people tried to skip to the front of the crowd, even starting a few fights that weren’t too serious as security was able to take care of the situations.

The band performed a few of their hit songs from their certified Platinum album Riot!. Some of the songs they performed from the album were “When it Rains,” “Crushcrushcrush,” and “That’s What You Get.”

They also performed “Misguided Ghosts,” “Playing God,” “When the Lines Overlap” and several other songs off their most recent album, Brand New Eyes.

They ended the concert with fireworks, introductions of the bandmates and then they went ahead and played “The Only Exception.”

As the band was walking off, the hyped-up crowd wanted more and began chanting, “One more song! One more song!”

To the fans’ surprise the band came out again to perform and they capped off an already exciting show with stellar performances.

They first played “Brick by Boring Brick” and then, for the next song, picked two fans out of the crowd to perform along with them. The lucky guy helped by singing and the lucky girl helped by playing bass along with the band for the final song of the night: “Misery Business.”

After the song had played, confetti-filled cannons fired out into the crowd. The atmosphere was wild and the excitement was incomparable.

The performance was above and beyond anything that the eager crowd could have expected.

“The concert was amazing,” Barnett said. “When Paramore came out, the crowd went wild. Their entrance was beyond great and engaged the crowd perfectly. Everyone screamed and sang along with Hayley.”

There was nothing more you could have asked for from Paramore and their performance except for maybe “one more song.”

Milwaukee transformed into a Lady Gaga-themed Halloween, with concertgoers dressed to the nines in every notable outfit Gaga has donned. Despite the occasional female taking the event as an excuse to dress skimpily (like I said… Halloween), the number of impeccable Gaga look-alikes was astounding – her cult following more apparent than ever.

As much effort as her “Little Monsters” – as she affectionately refers to her fans – put into their outfits Gaga put into every last detail of the production. The Monster Ball Tour is akin to the most whimsically frightening dream – and goodness knows, everyone loves the bizarre.

The concert was a one-of-a-kind experience – conceptually immaculate from start to finish. For over two hours, the audience was lead through the journey of Gaga and her crew trying to make their way to the Monster Ball.

To put the magnitude of the Monster Ball Tour in perspective, there are five trucks devoted to costumes alone – 30 trucks total move the entire production (sets, sound, lighting) – 12 buses for cast and crew as well as 21 songs performed, 15 costume changes for Gaga herself and 200 pairs of fishnet stockings for Gaga and her dances, according to the New York Post.

After a rousing chant of “LA-DY GA-GA!” led by the opening band, the glam rock Semi Precious Weapons, an enormous circular white screen drops down over the stage, which displayed an image of Gaga herself that continued to stretch and grow while background music swelled louder and louder.

The screen became transparent, taunting the audience with her petite yet womanly silhouette, and then began to rise. She remained, her back to the crowd, changing position but a handful of times, for what seemed like hours – but in reality is more like a minute or two – as she worked into “Dance in the Dark” from The Fame Monster. The suspense was nearly too much to handle.

Eccentric neon signs and large green automobile, housing a keyboard under its hood, were a few of the most striking props. Causing the first hitch in their plans to get to the Ball was the car, as it broke down en route.

If everyone looked as good as Gaga did when their car failed them on the road, dressed in a lilac purple, sparkling jacket with amped up, embellished shoulders and a skintight leopard printed body suit waiting underneath, society would be full of regular Casanovas, begging to lend a hand.

Before the next outfit change, Gaga launched into a song called “Vanity,” which she wrote years prior while living in New York City with “Posh” – one of the backup dancers and also, clearly, a close friend – screaming, “C’mon super-fans, sing with me!”

When the time came for the first major outfit change, Gaga appeared back onstage, performing in a subway car amongst her dancers and dressed in an entirely see-through ensemble that incorporated her signature taped-over nipples and an over-the-top nun habit. “LoveGame,” – a song famous for its lyrics, “Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick/ I wanna take a ride on your disco stick,” from the album The Fame, came pouring out of the speakers.

Other memorable scenes included dancers dressed like wolves that simulated ravaging her and ripping out her heart during “Show Me Your Teeth” (The Fame Monster). Gaga emerges from the pack, chest covered in blood. And then there was the costume made entirely out of long strands of hair, rendering her a furry lampshade during “Monster” (The Fame Monster), and the cone bra and panty set that shot out sparks.

But don’t forget the… ahem… provocative moves accompanying “Boys Boys Boys” (The Fame), which she dedicated to “all her gays,” or the enormous, daunting anglerfish, operated by her dancers, that dominated the stage during “Paparazzi” (The Fame). The list simply goes on and on.

As many smash hits as Gaga has, however – and somehow all of them were performed – she still took the time to connect with the audience and all the Little Monsters that turned out to see her. Sincerity emanates from Gaga’s every word – it absolutely feels like she is talking directly to you every time she pauses to speak.

Her message rang strong and clear—everyone is beautiful, special and gifted in his or her own unique way, and no one should ever make you feel otherwise.

“You are all fucking superstars,” Gaga said. “And you were born that way!” Hell, she even lovingly called the audience “Milwaukee assholes,” and it felt like the best compliment ever given.

The infamous “Bad Romance” (The Fame Monster) served as the encore, with Gaga coming up through the floor inside of a gyroscope, as seen on the promotional material for the Monster Ball Tour.

The trip through the magical Gaga wonderland had come to an end, and as the crowd left the Bradley Center, most everyone seemed simultaneously exhausted, overwhelmed and delighted by what they were just privy to.

This is one concert where it’d be fair to say that if you weren’t there, you most definitely missed out. Whether you love or hate her, Gaga has carved out a niche for herself that no other artist can even begin to touch.

Bearing witness to the Monster Ball Tour, it is slowly becoming more and more appropriate to compare Gaga’s star power to the likes of Madonna and Michael Jackson—music industry sensations known for being true entertainers and game-changing artists, but also for being humanitarians and philanthropists. Lady Gaga is a name to be remembered.

Although the California veteran band AFI opened the evening with an enjoyable set that included hits such as “Miss Murder” and “Girl’s Not Grey,” the night belonged entirely to Green Day. The lights dimmed around 8:15 p.m., and Green Day took the stage as the introductory track to last year’s release, 21st Century Breakdown, came over the loudspeakers. A pyrotechnic explosion soon erupted as the band broke into the title track from the same record, and the thrill ride did not stop until after 11 p.m.

The beginning of the set revolved mostly around the band’s latest material as it blasted through songs such as “Know Your Enemy,” “East Jesus Nowhere,” “Holiday,” “Letterbomb” and “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” After the band announced it was recording a live album that night, vocalist/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong asked the audience a simple question: “Are there any old-school Green Day fans in the house tonight?”

After raucous cheers, the band launched into 1994’s “Burnout” before playing other rare, classic gems, including “Scattered,” “F.O.D.,” “Paper Lanterns,” “2000 Light Years Away” and “J.A.R.” It even threw in a cover of Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself” in addition to the snippets of 10 other covers in its two medleys of the night. The medleys included AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell,” the Beatles’ “Hey Jude,” the Who’s “Teenage Wasteland” and Tom Petty’s “Free Falling.”

All the while, Armstrong commandeered the crowd like a musical sergeant and his bandmates (Jason White and Jeff Matika on guitar and Jason Freese on piano, accordion and saxophone) supplied an unbelievable amount of energy to go along with the top-notch renditions of every song played that evening. Armstrong described the night saying that “it doesn’t get better than this” as he celebrated with the large crowd of 16,000 fellow Californians.

“In this moment, right now,” he said, “there is no work, there is no school, there is no pain, there is no pressure, there is no responsibility. So let’s make it the night of our lives.”

After the band’s hilariously well-delivered performance of “King for a Day” and its cover of The Isley Brothers’ “Shout,” Armstrong reappeared with an acoustic guitar and began to play the emotional “21 Guns,” and the full band joined in to back him up. Next up was 2000’s smash hit anthem “Minority,” which the band extended to more than nine minutes long, including extended guitar solos, introductions and Armstrong’s traditional harmonica playing. As confetti rained down upon the audience during the final chorus, the screaming was deafening — but the crowd’s singing along was even louder.

Green Day left the stage after “Minority” but the show was far from over as Armstrong declared “I’m not done yet” Their encore included 2004 hits “American Idiot” and the nine-minute epic “Jesus of Suburbia,” which ended with a raucous pyrotechnic display. Armstrong emerged from the darkness yet again armed with an acoustic guitar and the band broke into the final three songs of the night: “Last Night on Earth,” “Wake Me Up When September Ends” and the perfect closer “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).”

The best way to describe a Green Day show is to say that it is indescribable. Although many bands take pride in making large arena shows feel like small club shows, Green Day is able to take big shows and turn them into extravaganzas. There are fireworks, flames, confetti, toilet paper guns, T-shirt guns and water guns. They bring more than 100 fans on stage every night, and a few get to sing “Longview,” with the best singer receiving a guitar right off the shoulders of Armstrong. They bring small children on stage to be “saved,” and Armstrong can control the crowd without saying a single word: he will stand or sit down and stare at the crowd until the applause is so loud that all of California can hear it.

A person does not go see Green Day. A person goes to experience Green Day, whether that might be from the front row or the very back of the lawn. Just as the band puts its heart and soul into the music, the audience members find themselves doing exactly the same thing, and it is a truly amazing thing to be a part of it.

Back in April, Johnson kicked off his 2010 “To The Sea” world tour to unveil his newest work from his latest album, To the Sea which was released on June 1, 2010.

Both the album and the tour are tributes to Johnson’s father, who passed away in August 2009. Johnson’s father, Jeff, was a well-known surfer who was extremely passionate about the sport. He essentially led Jack to the sea as he introduced him to the sport of surfing and became a life long role model.

Avid fans can gain a sense of who Johnson is through his peaceful, melodic tunes and the comforting words of his songs, but seeing him live reinforces his serene being. When performing, Johnson doesn’t make a spectacle of himself but stays on the level of the audience as he strums his guitar or the infamous ukulele that hails from his home state of Hawaii.

After playing three or four songs, Johnson, clad in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, humbly introduced himself by saying, “Hi, my name is Jack,” in an almost nervous, first-day-of-kindergarten way.

Johnson beautifully incorporated songs from his new album and his older albums, which kept the crowd on their toes and avoided overwhelming the crowd with too many songs with which they hadn’t been well acquainted.

Among the set list were Johnson’s new songs “You and Your Heart,” “To the Sea,” “My Little Girl,” “Red Wine, Mistakes, Mythology,” and “Turn Your Love.”

Johnson’s personality radiated as he talked between songs. He dedicated “My Little Girl” to his new baby girl singing “hey little girl, you’ve gone and stole my heart and made it your own.” Then when switching from a song on the “Curious George” soundtrack, “Upside Down,” to his new song “Red Wine, Mistakes, Mythology,” Johnson joked about the transition from G rated songs to songs about drinking.

Along with his new songs, Johnson played many old favorites and shared more personal stories. Johnson announced that he was going to play a Christmas song and then left the crowd in suspense for 30 seconds (which seemed like an hour) before sharing that the song “Angel” was a gift to his wife when he didn’t have one.

Another amazing thing about Johnson is how quickly he can adapt to situations. From forgetting lyrics to songs and asking the audience for help to launching his flip-flop into the audience and even accepting silly sunglasses from an audience member, Johnson held his poise and remained personable.

To end the show, Johnson invited his opening act and friend, G-Love, as well as Paula Fuga, a Hawaiian musician featured on the album, back on stage to close with an acoustic version of “Better Together.”

The lyrics “It’s so much better when we’re together” conveyed the harmonious relationship they all shared as a musicians and friends and created a sentimental end to the night as the event came to a close and the musicians and fans dissipated.

Well, when debonair lead singer Thomas Mars and company took the stage the rock was brought and the crowd was about as footloose as it gets – but only for a moment.

By that, I mean the show was delivered in a format that was kind of detrimental to the momentum that a Phoenix show is supposed to sustain for the duration.

After greeting the audience, Mars said that they’d like to perform their latest album, Grammy-winning “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” front to back.

And that’s what they did.

Playing a whole album live is a popular concept that has been used by many bands. The only problem with “Wolfgang” is that it starts off with the three undeniably biggest, most energetic tracks on the album, possibly the whole Phoenix discography: commercial, film and radio featured “Lisztomania” and “1901″, and dance floor hit “Fences.” After that, the album takes a major shift in tempo.

The rest of the album isn’t bad by any means; it’s just that after being hit in the mouth with a handful of explosive singles, the remaining tracks seem a little sluggish. If you’ve heard “Love Like A Sunset” you know what I’m talking about.

The band breezed through the album’s mid-section and closing tracks “Girlfriend” and “Armistice” briefly revived the crowds’ energy; but just as soon as it started it was over. Mars bid the audience farewell after just under 40 minutes of playing.

After a short break, Phoenix came back. The wait was shorter than a set break but longer than an encore pause. The subsequent set felt just like the break: longer than an encore but not quite a full set.

They played for another 20 minutes, performing tracks from their 2000 release “United,” an acoustic cover of Air’s “Playground Love” and a couple more tunes.

Again, they rocked for a brief moment and it was all over.

One hour? I know that Stir Cove shows are usually short, but this was one that definitely could have gone on for a little while longer.

While some may interpret my nitpicking to say that the show was awful, I can tell you it certainly wasn’t. Though their time on stage was brief, they performed passionately and expressed thanks many times throughout the show. Also, they had a visually stunning – and blinding – light show. I just expected a little more out of a $35 ticket. A little more would have gone a long way to make this show live up to the hype that led up to it.

Although the tour retains many elements of its first incarnation in late 2009 — Lady Gaga’s longtime partners-in-crime, the boys of Semi Precious Weapons, still open for her, and there’s precious little in the way of new material since Angelenos last saw her in December — the Monster Ball is undeniably a different beast.

That said, Gaga’s countless and impassioned devotees (her “Little Monsters,” as she likes to refer to her disciples) can rest assured that the tweaks are for the better, and make for a concert that, like its centerpiece herself, always seems unmistakably bigger and more outrageous than how you remember it.

Lady Starlight, another seasoned collaborator from Gaga’s early days in seedy New York City music clubs, opened Wednesday night’s show at the Staples Center with a wordless DJ set. Going on as early as she did, Starlight was spinning mostly for the benefit of the highest paying fans, those in the Little Monsters Club who were allowed first grabs at coveted ground floor spots along the stage and the catwalk that extended out from it.

Her first three song selections, “Welcome To The Jungle,” “Crazy Train” and “Eye Of The Tiger,” set the tone for a set that would prove to be heavy on classic rock throughout. She danced non-stop, availing herself of a silver medicine ball and old-school jump rope at one point and tomahawk-like juggling equipment at another. Despite her high energy, it quickly became clear why it was Gaga, and not Starlight, who was able to break out of the burlesque circuit into mainstream pop culture. Although the unmarketable grunge aesthetic appears to have been a passing phase for Gaga, it’s clear the aesthetic is deeply rooted in Starlight’s persona as a performer.

In the course of Semi Precious Weapons’ too-long opening set, front man Justin Tranter made it clear that he fancies himself an innovator in the genre of shock rock. His gratuitous crudity and self-conscious affectations of vanity (his response to even decidedly generous amounts of applause: “More!”) were almost unendurable, but the talents of drummer Dan Crean and backing scream-vocalist Cole Whittle made the irritating preening of amateur provocateur Tranter just bearable.

When Gaga finally took the stage just after 9 p.m., there was less energy than might be expected. Embarrassingly for the two warm-up acts, the minute Gaga’s motionless silhouette — locked in a dramatic Grace Jones-like pose as the opening beats of “Dance In The Dark” filled the Staples Center — gradually began to appear on the video screen that shielded the stage served to electrify the gathered masses more than any of the opening performers could. Backlit and standing stock-still, Gaga is still better able to whip a crowd into a frenzy than any other performer currently on the touring circuit.

The most noticeable change to the tour’s nightly performances is the addition of a narrative to the performance. The story follows a handful of Gaga’s friends as they make their way to the Monster Ball, the biggest party on the planet and a place where the superstar says all are encouraged to be true to themselves. The preachy, after-school special message — a constant throughout all of her interviews and performances — is more than a little clichéd at this point, but definitely not irrelevant to her numerous fans in the LGBT community.

The friends encounter a number of obstacles on their trek down the Glitter Road — a broken down car was labored over to the relatively obscure tune of “Glitter And Grease,” for instance, and the nightmarish “Fame Monster,” an anglerfish-like creature with tentacles, was vanquished as the heroine sang “Paparazzi” — but they eventually reached The Monster Ball.

As could be expected, the loose plot allowed for myriad costume changes (she donned a new outfit or shed a crucial piece of clothing approximately every other song). Audiences got to see the sparking cone bra from Gaga’s photo shoot for TIME magazine for themselves, as well as a few other outfits that were familiar from appearances and award shows. She performed “So Happy I Could Die” as a fiber-optic animatronic version of Glinda the Good Witch, and the famed “Gagasphere” thankfully made a return in her encore performance of “Bad Romance.”

Despite the fact that Gaga’s recent performances at Staples Center were part of a tour that began nearly one year ago, significant updates to the production — to say nothing of the newly penned rock number “You And I” — certainly warranted Lady Gaga’s “second coming.”

Perhaps due to the beach-party environment, Cuomo was extremely enthusiastic and never still on stage. With crazy antics such as hanging from a camera pole, walking into the stands and jumping on an onstage trampoline, the performance was nothing short of entertaining and unique.

Opening with their hit, “Hash Pipe,” the band had the crowd dancing and forming awkward and seemingly out-of-place mosh pits. Fitting for the song, the smell of weed began to disperse throughout the crowd, despite dozens of cops surrounding the beach.

Cuomo demanded a camera from a random videographer in the photo pit and began to film the crowd as he ran around the stage while performing the guitar-infused song.

Almost too fitting, as the band played “Troublemaker,” Cuomo made his way onto a stage-right platform and dangled from the pole of a swivel camera that hung above the audience. Suspended in the air above the huge crowd, which literally covered the entire beach, Cuomo proved that he was just as entertaining and daring as he was when the band formed in 1992.

During “Surf Wax America,” Cuomo ran across the barrier and let his fans grab him, almost as if to thank them for waiting in the hot sun all day. To entertain the audience even more, the band threw rolls of toilet paper into the crowd during the song.

As Weezer played “Can’t Stop Partying,” featuring Lil Wayne from their 2009 release, “Raditude,” the group was very in spirit with the song as they tossed giant beach balls into the audience.

Cordless mic in hand, Cuomo made his way into the stage-right bleachers and sang along with a fan during “Beverly Hills.”

The band played a cover of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.” In the spirit of Gaga, Cuomo emerged on stage in a blonde wig and began impersonating the pop star.

After a pause of a few minutes, the band came back on stage for an encore with their hits “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” and “Buddy Holly.”

As the band played most of their hits, the set was a flawless way to end this year’s U.S. Open free concert series.

Surrounded on all sides by Chicago’s looming, picturesque skyline, T-shirt vendors and religious crazies (whose “Rock and roll will damn your soul” placard almost made the weekend all on its own), the festival boasts three days of music from hundreds of performers, local food vendors, non-profit and political advocacy groups, quirky sponsors and plenty of free water and accessible restroom facilities throughout the park.

It seems like the stages and the stories get bigger and better every year — if the first two days of Lollapalooza are any indication for the future of grand-scale outdoor music festivals, I like where we’re headed.

Friday afternoons at Lolla are typically worse attended than the rest of the weekend, no thanks to the demands of the working week and the Man’s efforts to keep us all down. Unfortunate, then, that hip-hop heatseeker B.o.B. was doomed to one of the earliest slots in the day — a brutal 11:30 a.m. post at one of the festival’s larger stages.

An early highlight was Mavis Staples, the legendary soul singer of Staples Singers fame who recently teamed up with Jeff Tweedy (from “The Wilco Band!” as Staples introduced him) to write and record a new album of gospel-tinged soul. Tweedy appeared onstage twice, softly strumming an acoustic guitar stage right as the 71-year-old Mavis let loose on classics ranging from “I’ll Take You There” to The Band’s “The Weight.”

On the other side of the festival, The Walkmen had just finished a set of raw, garage-rocking Britpop led by Hamilton Leithauser’s signature throat-tearing drawl. New tracks from the band’s upcoming album, Lisbon, were well received, and older tracks like “In The New Year” sounded almost like modern classics.

At Perry’s, Stones Throw Records founder and artist Peanut Butter Wolf (aka Chris Manak) was spinning a set of hip-hop classics, ranging from Snoop and the Beastie Boys to Wu-Tang and MF Doom. Deftly scratching and mashing the records and accompanying video simultaneously, Manak brought some tasteful old-school flavor to the rave-ready crowd.

Then there was Devo. Emerging in silver space-age costumes, the band played tracks from its new album before breaking into the New Wave classics and donning those signature Energy Domes, now in turquoise. Front man Mark Mothersbaugh was as undeniable as ever, his nerdy charisma unflappable.

Back on the northern side of the festival, Dirty Projectors was creating its own brand of musical geekery, rooted instead in complex polyrhythms, melodies, arrangements and lyrics about Gatorade. One of the strongest and most hypnotic performances of the weekend, the Brooklyn six-piece played a pitch-perfect set, with lead singers Dave Longstreth and Amber Coffman stretching their ranges with shiver-inducing results.

Headliner Lady Gaga, who spared no expense in creating the “Monster Ball” of her current tour, emerged to tens of thousands of screaming teenagers and 20-somethings on a stage that looked more like a Broadway production of “Rent” than a pop music performance. But Gaga will be Gaga, and by the time she had overdramatized her way through bouts of musical theater and motivational speaking, it was clear that, apart from the dance-crazed diehards, many left disappointed and confused.

Those who did leave Gaga early (or were wise enough to not go at all) were treated to a historical performance by newly reunited NYC heroes The Strokes.

Aided by an incredible light show, the band was dead-on, playing now-classic tracks from its first three albums perfectly and with roof-igniting energy and ease. For a band that’s admittedly back together for the money, it sure sounded like their members still love to play together — one could nearly forget that front man Julian Casablancas is almost as big of a diva nowadays as Lady Gaga.

After Friday night, the rest of the weekend promised to be pretty incredible — and Saturday didn’t disappoint. With early sets by The Soft Pack and The Morning Benders, whose breakout albums launched them from indie darlings to 2010 festival mainstays, those who wanted a little more guitar with their Lolla were satisfied early on.

The feel-good pop-rockers of Blues Traveler emerged with chromatic harmonica blazing, playing the band’s own ’90s hits along with a Sublime cover, and bookending their fittingly sunny set with songs from the “Team America: World Police” soundtrack.

Back in the shaded Sony bloggie stage toward the center of the festival, psych-rock group Warpaint played a sleepy, meditative set that entranced the midday crowd — most of whom seemed to have showed up to give their ears a rest from the more aurally demanding artists on the other stages.

Grizzly Bear emerged on the Budweiser main stage as Lolla veterans, though its crowd this year easily outsized 2008’s performance on a tinier side stage. Front man Edward Droste apologized for the Brooklyn quartet not being much of a festival band — but you wouldn’t know it by its passionate reception as the crowd sang along in earnest to Droste and Daniel Rossen’s songs from last year’s Veckatimest. Another clear highlight, Grizzly Bear may have finally freed itself from its reputation as a sleepy live band — and it’s about time.

Next up was Spoon, who played tracks from last winter’s eclectic Transference and dug deep with a track from A Series of Sneaks. Along with Grizzly Bear, the band also played “Modern World,” a Wolf Parade cover with all the signature minimalism and disjointed percussion that Spoon seems to write in its sleep.

Sandwiched between Grizzly Bear’s and Spoon’s sets was Social Distortion, whose influential ’80s punk blared from the main stage on the southern end of the festival. Younger members of the audience not familiar with the pop-punk pioneers might mistake them for ripping off more modern acts like Green Day, and it’s a shame they played prior to Billy Joe and the gang instead of after.

Back on the Budweiser stage, French indie rockers Phoenix played an incredible set, complete with yet another sublime, seizure-inducing light show and spirited performances of “1901” and “Lisztomania.” The band stretched tracks like “Love Like a Sunset” from 2009’s stunning Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix to well beyond the 10-minute mark, giving the blissed-out and transfixed crowd the best show of the day.

Performances like those of The Strokes and Phoenix gave Sunday’s artists some big shoes to fill. But with amazing shows and happenings all around, each one furthering the momentum the Lollapalooza machine has created, even a little Sunday rain could never prevent another amazing day in Grant Park.

As the venue filled with talk of the many side projects associated with the headlining act prior to the show, all it took for the audience to regain a sense of familiarity after Zola Jesus’s peculiar set was for lead vocalist Yasuaki Sakai of Japanese jam band Moools to reveal a Wolf Parade shirt after removing his plain white tee in the earlier part of their set. After Moools’ set ended, the preparation for Wolf Parade to take the stage triggered a second wave of hysterics at the sheer sight of Krug’s two-tiered keyboard.

Promoting their latest album, Expo 86, the Montreal-based quartet was met with a packed house. In most cases, it’s reasonable to expect a band to sound less polished in a live performance as opposed to an album recording. However, Wolf Parade’s experience with recording their albums live with very few overdubs allowed their 15-song set to embody all the technical expertise of their albums but managed to satiate the crowd’s thirst for an atmosphere flooded with solid, indie-rock.

The set list featured a balance between old and new songs written by either Krug or Boeckner and the co-leaders humbly shared the spotlight in a manner that was both confident and void of excess ego.

With Krug’s keyboards paired with Boeckner’s high-strung guitar work, nuanced vocals were melded with perfectly harmonized yelps and falsettos. Drummer Arlen Thompson delivered impressively frantic percussive elements while Dante DeCaro’s bass thundered along without overpowering the others, giving the entire performance a strong backbone.

The crowd was most receptive to songs from the group’s 2005 debut Apologies to the Queen Mary, an album whose content prompted the most joyous sing-along moments of the night. Expo 86 tracks “Palm Road” and “Little Golden Age” were played as well as pre-album singles “Ghost Pressure,” and “What Did My Lover Say? (It Always Had To Go This Way).”

Merely the first note of the band’s 2005 single “I’ll Believe In Anything” sent the crowd into mass hysteria as they sang the evocatively enchanting line, “Give me / Your eyes / I need / The sunshine,” alongside Krug’s hauntingly charming vocals. “Language City” and “Fine Young Cannibals” from the group’s 2008 sophomore effort, At Mount Zoomer were performed before the set was closed with “California Dreamer.” The band then came back on stage for an encore consisting of Boeckner’s “Shine A Light” and the brooding 11-minute ballad “Kissing The Beehive.”

At times, choruses were played at a faster pace, but Krug’s nonchalant enthusiasm made this “rushed” feeling seem more fluid. Even when their playing was the slightest bit sloppy, it felt intentionally haphazard in the way the band fed off each other’s spontaneity. Though far away from their home base of Montreal, the epicenter of so many indie “it” bands, Wolf Parade somehow transformed the massive Fox Theater into the most intimate of settings. Even with the absence of synth-playing Hadji Bakara from the band’s new album and current tour, they truly held their own.

The maturity displayed onstage was compelling, but much expected due to each member’s experience with many side projects. But associated acts aside, the group’s performance was electrifying, and by the end of the night, Wolf Parade was the only band that could be talked about as stampedes poured out of the venue.

Gaga never disappointed. The monster mistress is an in-your-face whirlwind; combining theatrics, raw musical talent and fantastic choreography on her path to the elusive Monster Ball that she seemed destined to lead her fans to.

The fans in particular were another accessory to the show itself, with her fans dressed as extensions of the various costumes she’s worn in previous videos and performances. Many of the better dressed were stopped by other fans to take pictures.

Gaga used every talent she had working over the crowd through her nearly two hour and fifteen minute set, and the Oklahoma City crowd ate it up. The mosh pit bounced along in unison during the whole show to the driving beat of the incredible live band that backed her.

The louder the crowd became, the harder and louder Gaga performed.

“I used to not be brave, you made me brave,” she said during one of her breaks to interact with her fans. It was during one of those interactions she called a fan in the audience as prelude to her hit song “Telephone,” and moved them closer to the stage.

Gaga also took time to talk several times about the lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender community and the need to be a supportive society. Gaga, along with wireless carrier and tour sponsor, Virgin Mobile, donates $20,000 to her favorite charity for homeless LGBT youth as part of each show.

Lady Gaga has all the tools of a season-staged performer. As she slowed her set down at the mid-way point to debut a new-to-some song, “You and I,” that may become another No. 1 hit for her. As the piano lit on fire and she discussed the drunken male influences on her music, the setting provides for a very Elton John-esque vibe.

From her stage presence to her vocals, which she effortlessly displayed during “Teeth,” instrumental performances and her dance routines, Gaga left it all out there for the world to see.

As show wound down crowd favorite songs, outfits and set pieces were brought to the stage, including the fire-shooting bra and panties and the large squid that stripped various pieces of a green dress during “Paparazzi.”

Her influences are obvious, but Gaga is no slouch. Right now she is the world’s biggest music star and she makes no apology for her antics.

“When they asked you how the Lady Gaga show was…,” Gaga said breathlessly near the end of the show. “Tell ‘em we burned the place to the fuckin’ ground!”

After a broken amp, missing saxophonist, incomplete set and a 45-minute delay at the last Streetlight concert I went to, I had very low expectations this time around, and I was quite surprised when they not only came out on time, but sounded the best I’ve heard them.

As soon as the band got on stage and set up – which, admittedly, given the sheer number of members they have (seven give or take the performance), did take longer then usual – Streetlight immediately got off on a bang with “The Receiving End of it All,” one of their quickest and most upbeat songs. This was followed with “Failing, Flailing,” a concert favorite for years now. The song was their way of saying, “Hey Philadelphia, we missed you, but we’re back!” “Failing, Flailing,” along with “A Better Place A Better Time” are songs that, time after time, lead singer Tom Kalnoky purposely changes the tempo to so he can throw off fans singing along. After going to enough of their concerts, you pick up on it, and it becomes an inside joke between Kalnoky and the old-heads (long time fans). The song achieved Kalnoky’s desired effect, making the crowd go wild. Streetlight’s first two songs alone set the pace for what a high quality concert it was going to be.

A staple of seeing Streetlight live is their famous merging of “Point-Counterpoint,” the song that a majority of fans claim is the song that introduced them to Streetlight Manifesto, and “Keasby Nights,” originally from an album of the same name by Kalnoky’s first big band, Catch 22. The songs share the theme of a man prophesying his demise in “Keasby Nights,” and reflecting on and counting his final minutes as he dies from a shot to the lungs in “Point-Counterpoint.” This merging is played only live, never recorded together by the band.

What was surprising was just how many Catch 22 songs Streetlight played. Kalnoky left Catch 22 under what weren’t the best circumstances to form Streetlight. There has been a good deal of tension between the two bands, with Catch playing songs that Kalnoky considered to be his without him, and Streetlight re-recording their own (and, in my opinion, superior) version of the “Keasby Nights” album. The “Keasby” set list included “9mm and a 3-Piece Suit,” “1234 1234″ and “Sick and Sad.”

The concert was a flurry of sweat, bodies, water bottles, and lots and lots of skanking (the dancing, not job on the corner of City Hall past dark). Although the front of the crowd was moshing and crowd surfing, the entire back half of the Troc had opened up into a skanking circle, a common and almost mandatory occurrence at any ska concert.

As expected, Streetlight played a number of cover songs off their side project, “99 Songs of the Revolution.” The project has eight albums planned, two by each of the four bands attached. The only two bands announced as yet, however, are Streetlight Manifesto, who took the first volume, and their acoustic counterpart, Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution. 99SotR is comprised entirely of cover songs.

Prior to playing “Punk Rock Girl,” Kalnoky warned the crowd, “I’ve been desperately trying to learn this song since I was 16. I had the lyrics written on my arm, so don’t hate me if I [screw] up.” He played the song great, and more or less knew all the lyrics – at least, as much as was expected with him. Kalnoky is famous for forgetting his own lyrics, which the crowd constantly reminds him, singing along when help is needed. He joked, “I rely on the rest of the band for [the lyrics].”

After leaving stage, the band returned for an encore with an acoustic set comprising of “Linoleum,” a NOFX cover from 99SotR and “Sick & Sad.”

Going in with a hard-to-impress mindset after such a letdown the last time I saw them live, my expectations were more then exceeded with the most fun I’ve had at a Streetlight show yet.

Each year, Warped Tour hits some of the same familiar spots, including the Susquehanna Bank Center in Camden, N.J. For those who go each year, it feels familiar and different all at once. There are things that never change: the heat, the chaos, the schedule announced day-of. At the same time, there are plenty of things that continue to change – namely, the musical trends. New bands are added to the tour while some bands reach a veteran status; the rest fall somewhere in between. Bands such as The Rocket Summer and Motion City Soundtrack know the ropes but have not quite reached the legendary status of The Casualties or, say, the Bouncing Souls.

“The Rocket Summer is kind of in between the old band and the new band,” front man Bryce Avary explained. “And so it’s kind of cool because a lot of these new bands will come up to us [and say], ‘I’ve been listening to you for a long time.’”

These new bands represent a diversity of sounds, but a group of them also represent fresh trends in music. For some, including Motion City Soundtrack member Matt Taylor, Warped Tour is an eye opener to the popularity of certain genres.

“Sometimes you don’t really notice when things really change … I kind of stopped the other day and said, ‘Wow, I don’t really know a lot of these bands’ … but they’re drawing tons of people. We’re definitely in a weird spot where we are kind of with the old school guys now … kind of in the middle but a little closer to the old school guys,” Taylor said.

The beauty of Warped Tour is that all of these different bands can still coexist on the same tour. There is always a little drama on the tour – The Casualties, for example, proclaimed their displeasure with some new bands during their set – but still, it always turns out to be a unique and enjoyable event. There are not many other festivals where punk bands like The Casualties and pop bands like Never Shout Never will perform on the same stage. Despite anyone’s musical preferences, it is an interesting dynamic to witness. There is definitely an educational facet involved for anyone experiencing Warped Tour for the first time.

The rain held out in Camden this year, and the heat was not too unbearable. Motion City Soundtrack, The All-American Rejects and Reel Big Fish, among others, rocked out the main stage while bands like Four Year Strong, who dealt with technical difficulties with dignity, drew crowds to smaller stages. The Rocket Summer and Alkaline Trio were two of the bands that ended up closing up the festival. Kids left with sunburn, sore legs and empty wallets, but hopefully felt the pain was worth the pleasure. For music enthusiasts, one day at Warped is infinitely more enjoyable than a summer away at a real camp.

Gaga never disappointed. The monster mistress is an in-your-face whirlwind; combining theatrics, raw musical talent and fantastic choreography on her path to the elusive Monster Ball that she seemed destined to lead her fans to.

The fans in particular were another accessory to the show itself, with her fans dressed as extensions of the various costumes she’s worn in previous videos and performances. Many of the better-dressed were stopped by other fans to take pictures.

Gaga used every talent she had working over the crowd through her nearly two hour and fifteen minute set, and the Oklahoma City crowd ate it up. The mosh pit bounced along in unison during the whole show to the driving beat of the incredible live band that backed her.

The louder the crowd became, the harder and louder Gaga performed.

“I used to not be brave, you made me brave,” she said during one of her breaks to interact with her fans. It was during one of those interactions she called a fan in the audience as prelude to her hit song “Telephone,” and moved them closer to the stage.

Gaga also took time to talk several times about the lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender community and the need to be a supportive society. Gaga, along with wireless carrier and tour sponsor,Virgin Mobile, donates $20,000 to her favorite charity for homeless LGBT youth as part of each show.

Lady Gaga has all the tools of a season staged performer. As she slowed her set down at the mid-way point to debut a new-to-some song, “You and I,” that may become another No. 1 hit for her. As the piano lit on fire and she discussed the drunken male influences on her music, the setting provides for a very Elton John-esque vibe.

From her stage presence to her vocals, which she effortlessly displayed during “Teeth,” instrumental performances and her dance routines, Gaga left it all out there for the world to see.

As show wound down crowd favorite songs, outfits and set pieces were brought to the stage, including the fire-shooting bra and panties and the large squid who stripped various pieces of a green dress during “Paparazzi.”

Her influences are obvious, but Gaga is no slouch. Right now she is the world’s biggest music star and she makes no apology for her antics.

“When they asked you how the Lady Gaga show was…,” Gaga said breathlessly near the end of the show. “Tell ‘em we burned the place to the fuckin’ ground!”

The New Pornographers are a group with the ability to overshadow any grandiose setting. With four powerful lead vocalists (Carl Newman, Neko Case, Dan Bejar and Kathryn Calder) and an ensemble of four or five others at any given time, it would normally be a challenge to drown out even one of these singers. Alas, all were lost by the poor sound engineering. The issue was not so much volume as loss of clarity, a crucial asset for this diverse group.

Strikingly, for the number of people on the stage at any given moment, the entire event was lacking a kinetic energy. Singer/guitarist Carl Newman was the most mobile in the bunch, but most of the Pornographers stayed exactly in front of their microphones, eyes closed. Dan Bejar elicited excited cheers each time he reemerged, but with every reappearance, he seemed to have slipped a bit further away from the audience and his band mates.

The primary source of disappointment stemmed from the high quality performances fans have come to expect from the New Pornographers. Indeed, the performances could’ve been great – it just wasn’t easy to hear amid the audience’s audible complaints about the muddled sound. Still, the crowd sang along to “Myriad Harbor,” Neko Case’s beautiful vocals on “Go Places,” the energetic “Letter From an Occupant” and the first encore piece, “Challengers.”

The casually clad octet appeared beneath a flashing display of their name which didn’t quite fit with the players below. Sadly, the New Pornographers really didn’t offer much of a “show,” a point only exacerbated by their blinking sign reminding everyone just what their name connotes. Given the evening’s constraints, the Pornographers’ usual penchant for great performances couldn’t be realized. But as they said in the beginning, it was their first show in Oakland; hopefully next time they’ll come prepared to fill the rich theater with a performance that matches.

Starting off the day was ska legend Reel Big Fish. Trumpets and trombone sections were tight as always, and their tongue-in-cheek approach to the genre was a great way to start off the day. Plowing through their hits, such as “Beer,” and their wildly popular “Sell Out” (which front man Aaron Barrett introduced by saying that the band was going to try out a new song), the Fish was far from being out of water and a great way to start off Warped Tour.

The Celtic punk genre saw two upcoming challengers to the well-established Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphy throne, with both The Mighty Regis and Flatfooot 56 carrying the Celtic torch on the tour this year.

Also from Los Angeles(hailing from the same bar that Molly started at, actually), The Mighty Regis played a pretty solid set; however, they suffered from my typical complaint of newer groups and a lot of Warped Groups in general: turn that fucking bass down. I want to hear the rest of your band, and we all know the short sets at Warped aren’t the best in terms of live mixing. Regardless, The Mighty Regis was still enjoyable, and while they are far from their older brethren, they are sure taking aim at the highest of goals and chugging along.

Next up was Chicago’s Flatfoot 56. Closer to the Murphys in style (so much in fact, that their rendition of Amazing Grace was very familiar to anybody who has been listening to Celtic punk as long as I have been), Flatfoot 56 was something like a more Celtic Street Dogs with high-powered and fast punk rock that hits you in the face with mandolin licks and bagpipes floating to the top of the band’s sound. I only made the second half of the set (I had to see at least some of the household name All American Rejects), but it was another solid set from a good punk rock band, and we all know how rare those are at Warped these days.

The Riverboat Gamblers was another one of the more punk-leaning bands on the tour. I hadn’t had much experience with their music before the show, but saying the very least, they knew how to put on an entertaining set. When people in the front row were caught texting, lead singer Mike Wiebe took not one, but two cell phones and called random people, putting them on speaker phone to listen to the set.

As if his already-commanding presence and wild prancing about the stage wasn’t enough, for the last song he walked off the stage and over to a standing wire fence. He climbed it and kept right at his singing, while then hanging upside-down from the fence. Needless to say, their set packed a solid punch and energy, though I wish I had paid a little more attention to the music rather than the stage antics.

Try as I might, I do wish to apologize to Far From Finished. I have been waiting to see them for several years, but a timing conflict with another band caused me to miss them. Rest assured, if their live show is half as good as their albums, FFF would have been another solid punk act to check out this year.

However, they were trumped by one of the bands that I was most looking forward to seeing again: Naples, Florid- based Fake Problems. Last year’s “It’s Great to Be Alive” was one of my favorite albums of the year, and Fake Problems is one of those up-and-coming bands that seem to just be tottering on that big break that they deserve.

Irony of ironies, Fake Problems took stage right after some really bad metal band, but hey, the luck of the draw at Warped. My only real complaint about their set was the inclusion of what seemed to be more than the several expected new songs, and with their new album still a few months away, the crowd wasn’t able to join in.

To nitpick, it would have been nice, as well, to see the entire and elaborate several drum set and conga-riddled percussion section with them on Warped as well, but with a schedule as winding and demanding was Warped is, I could deal with the missing extra additions from the last time I saw them as a headliner. Though it just felt like something was missing (I’m talking about you, vibraslap interlude in “Don’t Worry Baby”).

I still can’t find an exact way to describe their sound, except really, really good. A folksier and more musically intricate Against Me! comes to mind (Naples influence, no doubt), but Fake Problems covers enough new ground that few other comparisons come close, or really even matter. Songs can go from soft and sweet to powerful and moving flawlessly, and lead singer Chris Farren sang with a near unrivaled passion. Song wise, Fake Problems brought out one of my personal favorites, “Born and Raised,” and played many of the best tracks off of Great to be Alive, including “The Dream Team” and “Heartless.”

Touting themselves as the only true indie punk band on the tour, bands as unique, good, and talented as Fake Problems are hard to come by. While their Warped set might not have been their full show of antics and surprises, even their A-minus game is better than most bands’ A-game could ever be. These guys are going places, mark my word.

And last, but not certainly not least, if there was one reason I managed to weave in and out of teeny boppers and put myself through overhearing the same horrible excuse of a band under several different any names, it was the great and powerful trio that is the Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band.

To say it was a breath of fresh air to see this blues power house of a band take the stage at Warped would be a severe understatement. Bringing their high-powered live show was just the medicine that the Warped doctors ordered, and any chance to see this band live should not be missed. Powered by the Reverend Peyton himself on vocals and slide guitar, his wife Breezy Peyton on washboard (perhaps the first time a washboard has graced Warped’s stages), and their cousin Aaron Persinger on drums, The Big Damn Band was not only one of the best acts on the entire festival (and that’s putting them against main-stage headliners Motion City Soundtrack and The All American Rejects, neither of whom really impressed me as much as I had hoped), but is one of the most entertaining and energetic bands performing today. Hot off of their best album yet, “The Wages,” the BDB will tear you apart in the same way that the Reverend tears and shreds his guitars. Truly a sight to be seen and experienced.

While it is a never-ending shame that the majority of the people at the show were probably off watching some band that couldn’t quite fit into their pair of girl pants and wouldn’t know great music if it hit them over the head with a washboard, Reverend Peyton’s presence was a testament that Warped still brings in great live acts and that any band with a washboard means business.

And yes, Breezy did in fact smash her washboard into smithereens on the last song before tossing out pieces of it.

And after that, catching guitar picks just doesn’t seem nearly as cool anymore.

So all in all, it was another solid year at the Warped Tour. While I actually spent most of my time on the smaller stages, since, this year, that was really where the talent on the tour shone, and shone brightly. Regardless of who is headlining or what other bands Warped brings along, as long as it keeps enough good bands together under one roof like it did this year, I’ll keep going back, even if it means having to dash through more screaming cookie-cutter bands to find the next diamond in the rough.

It didn’t matter that the show began an hour late, which is typical of Macca – as McCartney’s diehard fans affectionately call him. He immediately warmed up the crowd with a strong trio of songs: “Venus and Mars” and “Rock Show,” followed by “Jet.” This is the same opening McCartney played during his 1976 Wings Over America tour. But this flash to the past wasn’t a bad thing. A concert couldn’t possibly begin on a better note.

McCartney energized his audience with enthusiastic renditions of songs from throughout his career. During the first half of his set, he delved deep into his 1973 Wings album Band on the Run, which featured some of the show’s strongest moments. But McCartney also reminded the audience that his creative output hasn’t come close to running out by playing material from his current, electronic-music side project, the Fireman. The rollicking track “Highway” paired a catchy beat with unusually biting lyrics that critiqued McCartney’s ex-wife, Heather Mills.

Unfortunately, McCartney, who is now 68, doesn’t have the singing range he used to have. This limitation was evident on a vocally challenging track like “Got to Get You Into My Life.” The audience didn’t seem to mind though, since McCartney proved on other songs that his voice is still more powerful than most singers half his age. On “Letting Go,” his voice took a turn for the beautifully ragged, making for an unforgettable part of his 40-song set.

Between songs, McCartney took the time to connect with his audience. After playing a cover of “San Francisco Bay Blues,” he slyly commented: “OK, you have to throw that one in!” He noticed a fan carrying a sign that read: “I saw you in San Francisco in 1966. Remember me?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Remember you? ‘Course I remember you!”

That McCartney was able to form such a strong connection with his audience is a testament to his impressive skills as a performer. AT&T Park is a huge venue, and even from third base, Sir Paul looked to be no more than two inches tall. The merely passable acoustics sometimes reduced McCartney’s signature, violin-shaped Hofner bass to a muffle. Fortunately, two screens flanking the stage provided much-needed detail of the band members.

These shortcomings were soon forgotten as McCartney plowed further into his classic material from the Beatles. While he missed an opportunity to pare down “The Long and Winding Road,” which still retains Phil Spector hallmarks like ostentatious choruses and orchestras, he offered a fresh take on “I’ve Got a Feeling,” with excellent guitar work and an extended jam session.

At 11 p.m., a friend told me, “Most 68-year-olds would be asleep by now.” Two more encores followed, and by the finale, Sir Paul had been playing for three hours. He finished with a fantastic version of “The End,” in which he and fellow guitarists Rusty Anderson and Brian Ray traded guitar solos for five minutes. After that remarkable send-off, a young boy in the audience told his parents, “I want to listen to Beatles songs all day now.” Rarely can an artist kindle that level of enthusiasm in people of all ages. Hopefully McCartney will decide to revisit San Francisco soon – ideally in fewer than 44 years.

Needless to say, Star Wars: In Concert is an event of truly epic proportions. Using John Williams’ iconic score, the concert features a fully manned symphony orchestra and choir backed by a towering 200-ft LED monitor screen displaying assorted footage gathered from all six episodes. In order to provide a truly unique experience for concertgoers, the footage is all meticulously edited by LucasFilm to run in synch with the performance.

But in spite of its seeming awesomeness, Star Wars: In Concert is a painfully mediocre journey rife with repetition, dizzying montages and a strangely underwhelming narration by C-3PO himself, Anthony Daniels.

Divided into six different segments, each piece centers on a particular story line or character from the series that includes Yoda, the droid army and the rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker. The orchestra is flawless, the lights are dazzling and the footage looks crisper than ever before.

Though it’s mesmerizing at first, the gaudy spectacle descends into mediocrity at warp speed and the shortfalls seem to stem from all of the surrounding bells and whistles rather than the orchestra’s performance itself.

The montages include ample footage from all six films but with many of the clips appearing more than once they become more repetitive than captivating. At one point, I was unsure as to what the segment was even focused on as the footage continually oscillated between clips from the Rebel alliance’s victory over the Empire to Phantom Menace’s Battle of Naboo. And while Anthony Daniels’ narration was surely a treat and a pleasant surprise to most, his attempt at stage banter felt more appropriate for a daytime infomercial than any arena-sized event.

Don’t get me wrong, Star Wars: In Concert, is a stunning achievement and it takes a deft hand to assemble an event of such grandiose nature. But the end product just doesn’t carry the expected wow-factor that would warrant such steep pricing and a sprawling 50-city tour. If you’re a Star Wars junkie, you probably already purchased your tickets and there’s probably nothing I can say that would change your mind. But for those of you less gung-ho, save your fifty dollars, watch the films at home and blast John Williams’ score over the speakers.

After four decades, six theatrical productions and a never-ending onslaught of books, video games and vast array of die-hard collector items, one would think the industry had exhausted George Lucas’ 70s- born space epic long ago. But Star Wars sits deep within society’s cultural conscience and its timeliness and universal appeal only means one thing to its legal owners: there’s still money to be made folks.

Needless to say, Star Wars: In Concert is an event of truly epic proportions. Using John Williams’ iconic score, the concert features a fully manned symphony orchestra and choir backed by a towering 200-ft LED monitor screen displaying assorted footage gathered from all six episodes. In order to provide a truly unique experience for concert-goers, the footage is all meticulously edited by LucasFilm to run in synch with the performance.

But in spite of its seeming awesomeness, Star Wars: In Concert is a painfully mediocre journey rife with repetition, dizzying montages and a strangely underwhelming narration by C-3PO himself, Anthony Daniels.

Divided into six different segments, each piece centers on a particular story line or character from the series that includes Yoda, the droid army and the rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker. The orchestra is flawless, the lights are dazzling and the footage looks crisper than ever before.

Though it’s mesmerizing at first, the gaudy spectacle descends into mediocrity at warp speed and the shortfalls seem to stem from all of the surrounding bells and whistles rather than the orchestra’s performance itself.

The montages include ample footage from all six films but with many of the clips appearing more than once they become more repetitive than captivating. At one point, I was unsure as to what the segment was even focused on as the footage continually oscillated between clips from the Rebel alliance’s victory over the Empire to Phantom Menace’s Battle of Naboo. And while Anthony Daniels’ narration was surely a treat and a pleasant surprise to most, his attempt at stage banter felt more appropriate for a daytime infomercial than any arena-sized event.

Don’t get me wrong, Star Wars: In Concert, is a stunning achievement and it takes a deft hand to assemble an event of such grandiose nature. But the end product just doesn’t carry the expected wow-factor that would warrant such steep pricing and a sprawling 50-city tour. If you’re a Star Wars junkie, you probably already purchased your tickets and there’s probably nothing I can say that would change your mind. But for those of you less gung-ho, save your fifty dollars, watch the films at home and blast John Williams’ score over the speakers.

On June 26, Rollins took the stage at Sokol Hall to regale a diverse audience of about 400 to 500 young and middle-aged punk fans with tales of his adventures, his life story and his politics.

A legend in the hardcore punk scene, Henry’s bio reads like a Dos Equis ad. You know, the ones featuring the “most interesting man in the world.” At 49, the middle-aged punk rocker has reinvented himself so many times he should have himself patented. He has visited places few Americans have heard of, and done things few would dare to do. On June 26, he brought his own brand of spoken word performance art to the Sokol.

I’ll admit, I didn’t have the slightest idea what to expect from Rollins’ spoken word shows. I’ve been a fan of his from the Black Flag and Rollins Band days, and I caught his excellent interview with Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America founder, Paul Reickoff, on his VH1 show. I knew he was doing something called “spoken word,” an art form distantly related to beat poetry and stand-up improv. So for me, the show was going to be a unique experience.

The stage at Sokol Hall is spartan, to say the least. It’s normally used by local punk and metal bands, so it has to be. Saturday night was no exception. Maroon curtains draped the back of the stage, white stage lights hung from the rafters above, and dead center was a microphone stand and two stage monitors.

That’s all. No chair, no props, not even a bottle of water in sight. This, I thought, is going to be good.

And I was right. At precisely 8 p.m. in the evening to thunderous applause and fists in the air, Rollins strode out on the stage, no introduction needed for this man, and began speaking. He didn’t let up for the next three hours. He simply stood and spoke, occasionally gesturing or shaking his fist to accentuate a point, without taking so much as a sip of water and barely pausing for breath.

A Rollins show isn’t something you attend, it’s something you experience. Nothing can prepare you for the rapid-fire verbal assault headed your way. Rollins spoke on such a wide variety of topics it would be nearly impossible to relate them all, and Rollins moved so quickly from one to the other, seemingly without end, that if you paused too long to think about any particular point, you missed the next three.

He began by relating an experience he had recently, a run-in with the California police, where he had been accused of harassing a woman in a bar he’d never actually visited in a town he’d never been to. In typical Rollins style, he refused to be intimidated, and since he was innocent and could prove it, he challenged the investigating officer to prove the allegations. This story set the tone for the evening, and became a recurring theme – that authority must be challenged, and abuses of power must be confronted directly and fearlessly.

He told a story of his visit to South Africa, where he did not meet Nelson Mandela, but had the chance to see the great man’s library, and punctuated the segment by reciting, in its entirety, the preamble to the Constitution of the new South African government.

On the same trip he visited Bhopal, India, on the 25th anniversary of the Union Carbide disaster, which killed 12,000 people and permanently poisoned an entire city. He describes the anguish of the women who spoke, and railed against the apathy and ignorance of the western societies that are largely responsible for it.

With raw, uncensored clarity he ranted about the injustice at Itawamba Agricultural High School in Mississippi, where the school board canceled the senior prom and laid the blame at the feet of one young lesbian teen who had the temerity to announce her intentions to bring her girlfriend. Surviving high school is hard enough, but “…(if) you’re 20 and gay,” he said, “you should be given an extra gold star and a free pizza.”

When he tells his story about acting on the second season of the HBO hit series “Sons of Anarchy” (he plays, ironically, a neo-Nazi thug), you want to writhe in pain as he describes what he put himself through during filming. The character got beaten up regularly, and was killed at the end of the season, but Rollins enjoyed the work because “neo-Nazis need to get their asses kicked.”

Though he’s nearly 50, Rollins is clearly young at heart, and this comes through in his show. There’s little he won’t try at least once, and this attitude stems from a philosophy that death should not be feared. When it’s your time to die, according to Rollins, death should be the only thing left you haven’t done.

As I said earlier, it’s nearly impossible to describe Henry Rollins’ spoken-word show. He was, throughout the evening, amusing, inspiring and occasionally infuriating. His rapid-fire delivery assaulted your brain and left you reeling, wondering where the next hit was coming from. Whether you agreed with him or not, one thing was true – what he said made you think. He challenged your expectations, and hearing about his adventures and stories made me think harder about my own life. The tagline for his current tour is “Mileage Without Knowledge Equals Bullshit,” again stemming from his philosophy that you’ve got to live something before you can talk intelligently about it. According to Rollins, if more Americans traveled and experienced other cultures, the world would be a better place.

I couldn’t agree more.

So there it is. I said at the beginning, describing a Rollins show is nearly impossible. What I’ve written here would have taken him about two minutes to say out of a three-hour show.

If you get the chance, go see this guy. He’ll be on tour until Thanksgiving, doing spoken-word almost every night until then. Check him out, and break out some old Black Flag albums to get in the mood. You won’t regret it.

The theme of the evening, in simple terms, was new energy. Matthews and his compatriots spent many years riding high on a jazzy folk-rock sound that (to many) is now synonymous with the dot-com boom. But unlike the economy, DMB has pressed on through the darkness. The inspiration felt during Sunday night’s show was largely one of deep pain and a kind of musical exorcism. This seemed to go unnoticed by the majority of attendees who were inebriated to the point of impatience, but like many jam bands, their music occasionally acquires a stale travel smell that can make any day feel whet with regret. On the flipside, such groups also cater to more adventurous music listeners, ones who discuss rolling papers in as much detail as guitar solos.

Immediately after the first song (“One Sweet World”), Matthews launched into a long, drawn-out and wallow-y reading of “Bartender” that governed the forlorn mood of their set. Their take on the song brooded with unique character, but more importantly it serves as an endearing portrait of the changed band. With Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, DMB found itself in a stereotypical late-career, back-to-the-basics phase. Since the departure of Moore, the band’s lost sense of home has brought serious changes to their live show. Former Flecktone Jeff Coffin is now at the forefront, and has succeeded in his attempts to fill the enormous shoes left by Moore. The well-defined quirk of Coffin’s woodwind playing projects a new freedom as opposed to a source of unresolved pain.

In years past their improvisation was marked by commanding organ detours, pensive piano solos, and edgy guitar work, but on Sunday it carried a distinct new-age feel. Specifically on “Jimi Thing,” “Say Goodbye” and “Lying in the Hands of God,” they all carried the sound of a band struggling (albeit artfully) to rid itself of pain. Every note played was lonely enough to be free-associative and therapeutic, allowing each band member to sulk thoughtfully until they felt cleansed. In other words, instead of using musical tension and release, they mostly released demons. Towards the end of the show, this was so pervasive that one heard the buried sadness of “Tripping Billies” more than its pseudo-bluegrass, hedonist embrace.

For those who chose not to jet out early, a poignant, all-too-knowing take on Bob Dylan’s “All Along the Watchtower” highlighted a sense of letting go. It was here that listeners understood that maybe Matthews is finally ready to let the light in. Lyrically, Matthews is as poignant as ever, and when he played the unreleased firecracker “Cornbread,” he sounded as though he’s still falling in or out of love with various people and pastimes, while also losing touch (and reconnecting) with old friends. Tim Reynolds’ guitar solo may have ripped “Gravedigger” a new one late in the show, but his presence barely stood out in the cold emotional atmosphere that Matthews laid out. When Matthews sang “Doesn’t everybody deserve to have a good life?” in a sadness laced with hope, the “Spaceman” of its title had already filled the room.

“Who here believes in de-evolution?” posed bassist/keyboardist Gerald Casale to a roaring cheer of approval after a not-so-delicately-put treatise on “a man with a beard in a cave” (meaning Osama bin Laden) and the recent BP oil spill before launching into “Jocko Homo,” the track which gave the title to Devo’s first album, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! It was a theme that coursed through the entire concert lyrically, musically, and visually; to Devo’s credit they are nothing if not eminent performance artists, and they didn’t let that central idea, that men are rapidly becoming simian automatons, escape the show even for a second. Rarely did the band break android like character to speak frankly and honestly to the audience, and the massive video screen at the rear of the stage blinked through a collection of repeating phrases of imagery that the music video pioneers edited to match their arithmetical, angular brand of new wave.

But while Devo’s music and themes are winding, complex, and highly intellectual – and while their stage personas may reflect this (the band cycled through a greatest-hits collection of Devo costumes, and yes, the step-pyramid hats were represented) – Devo have always been nothing short of a great rock and roll band, and have demonstrated an uncanny ability to craft excellent pop songs as vessels for their message against mindless compliance.

Through the live setting of the Oasis – helped along by a state-of-the-art sound system – it was easy to hear the direct impact that squared-off, pounding, electronic songs like “Whip It” (a song, which Devo has often attempted to distance themselves from, that the band embraced entirely for the show, even using it as an opportunity to toss some of their famed pyramid hats into the audience) and “Gates of Steel” had on new wave and modern-day industrial and electronica. Even tracks from their new album Something For Everybody, like “What We Do” and the concert-opening “Don’t Shoot (I’m A Man),” seemed both fresh and familiar, as if 20 years off had no effect on the group’s ability to craft the excellent, wholly original brand of rock music that they were known for from the front end of the 1970s all the way to the tail end of the next decade.

The group also demonstrated the surrealistic, pranksterish sense of humor that dotted their many conceptual antics (like the famously weird video for “Whip It”) during their heyday. A video that played partway through the show (and provided the band a few minutes for a costume change) attempted to phrase in understandable terms, both humanity’s insignificance to the universe and Devo’s significance to humanity.

If this truly is Devo’s farewell tour – it’s unlikely in another 20 years the already-pudgy group will have the wherewithal for a trot around the world – then they’re truly going out on a high note, putting together a hilarious multimedia extravaganza that features the intellectual depth of high artists and the front-to-back energy of a rock band half their age. Their Summerfest-closing show stands as one of the highlights of the 2010 festival.

Drawing material from their early EPs through their latest album, Congratulations, the set kicked off with the little known “Destrokk” from the 2008 EP Time to Pretend.

“The Youth” provided glimpses of what would soon become an eye-catching light show fit for the Acid Tests when scrolling black and white images of children cascaded across strobe-infested screens.

Eventually turning to their newer material, the band played through the psychedelia of “Someone’s Missing,” and the first single from Congratulations, “Flash Delirium.”

Finally showing some sign of life, the crowd started to warm up for “Electric Feel.” The real highlights, however, were not the fan favorites and hits – which the band played with an aura of hesitant obligation – but rather jangly new efforts like “Brian Eno” and “Dan Tracey.”

This isn’t to suggest the set skimped on their more popular material, or MGMT standards. The second half of the nearly two-hour set found MGMT playing, “Weekend Wars,” “Time to Pretend,” and a mind shattering, extended version of “The Handshake,” which saw lights and music working together with surreal images, creating the set’s most engaging moment.

After a brief departure, MGMT returned to the stage – with opening act, Tame Impala – for an encore performance of “Kids.” The song saw the group trade in their guitars, drums, and keyboards for maracas and tambourines as they danced around stage singing to a pre-recorded track.

The fan energy, uniqueness, and overwhelming fun of the performance more than made up for the fact that they didn’t actually play their best-known song.

Also played during the encore was the nearly 14-minute EP “Metanoia,” in its entirety. The seldom-played track was lost on the crowd still recovering from the party that was the “Kids” performance, and was nearly silent for the duration.

Closing out the encore was title track “Congratulations,” which re-energized the audience and ended the performance.

The set was mostly predictable, but offered a few surprises. Among them was how well the oft-criticized new material stood up against the pop-successes of Oracular Spectacular. The new songs brought extreme energy and variety to the already, for lack of a better word, spectacular set list.

And as the Flaming Lips took the stage at the stroke of midnight at the Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival in Manchester, Tennessee, I only had to wait an hour or so for my “Big Fish” moment.

I walked up late to Which Stage after struggling to satisfy my appetite for late-night music with so many good bands on tap and not enough time to see them — the Black Keys and Bassnectar, to name a few. But the Lips were the main attraction, all prepped — after playing a set of their own music — to play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon (with help from Stardeath and White Dwarfs). Having heard the legendary album so many times on vinyl from my various housemates’ rooms, I knew I couldn’t miss the performance.

With lead singer Wayne Coyne’s face projected from a fish-eye microphone camera, his channeling (or rather, respectful honoring) of Pink Floyd front man David Gilmour became a mythical experience, interwoven between trippy flashing images of the moon and a running woman displayed in negative. Then, in the middle of the song “Brain Damage,” it happened.

“If your head explodes with dark forebodings too,” Coyne sang, “I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.”

And then the stage exploded with what seemed to be 500 or so pounds of confetti, the pieces of tissue paper suspended in midair like time had stopped. I looked to my left and grown men were crying. It was all I needed from the weekend. It was my moment.

Walking away from the best show of my life, I took in the atmosphere around me more than I had the night before. The 700-acre farm that is Bonnaroo looked like a bazaar, tented shops all over, kind of like a drugged-out carnival. Nowhere else could a group of strangers finish up their long nights of musical sensory overload (perpetuated by copious use of psychedelics) by simply falling asleep on the ground where they were standing. But everyone understood.

Even beyond this sense of hippie-family and drugs, Bonnaroo was simply about making people remember why they love music so much — especially its ability to make those moments that stay with you.

My friends and I were torn on our overall strategy for tackling the festival’s massive lineup, one that forced tough decisions at every front. Should I see Weezer or Jeff Beck, or should I watch Jack White’s entire set with his new new band, The Dead Weather? Or should I blow it all off, save my strength and get a really kick-ass seat for Stevie Wonder? Decisions like this tended to dominate the weekend, and a lot of times, it seems like those in charge of making said schedule could’ve done a little better spreading the high-demand acts out.

So we had to make the best of it, missing some bands I’d looked forward to like local Ann Arbor soul child Mayer Hawthorne and folksy Blitzen Trapper. But after forgoing both of those acts on the first night, I knew I would have to spread my time out thinly, choosing to leave in the middle of some acts, instead of camping out at one tent and staying there.

The first night carried few treasures in comparison to the other three legend-filled blocks, but I was still relatively awed. The xx impressed with an intense and trippy light show, under That Tent, and although the band wasn’t one of my favorites heading in, I felt at home with its devoted followers.

After telling a group of three huge fans behind me that I “liked their vibe,” our groups converged and we gladly enjoyed their most likely Ecstasy-driven, seemingly divine love for the band for the next hour.

By the next exhausted afternoon, the blistering sun had reared its ugly head and the sweat began pouring down. Knowing that the day would be complete when I made my way to see the Damian Marley & Nas collaboration, I took it easy before the hemp-crazy, dreadlock-filled affair. Not much of a stage show considering its afternoon slot, the duo still reminded me why they’re two of the best in their respective genres. Damian Marley headed a very successful reggae lineup at the ’Roo, and Nas would’ve been the clear choice as best hip-hop act if it weren’t for Saturday night’s headliner, Jay-Z — a bitter rival of his.

But it was Saturday night that led me to admit that my lofty expectations for Bonnaroo were indeed right on target. After getting there early to get the best possible seats (one of the few times we made this a priority all weekend), we were some of the tens of thousands to come out to see the legendary Stevie Wonder. I was dehydrated, I smelled something rank and my metabolism may have been permanently ruined that night, but there are few things that compare to seeing a rock‘n’roll legend in the flesh. Performing all of his classics, Wonder also threw in a cover of Smokey Robinson’s “Heard It Through The Grapevine,” and did not disappoint — reminding us that despite the fact that Peter Frampton made the talk box famous with “Do You Feel Like I Do?” it was indeed Wonder who was one of the gadget’s real pioneers, and his experience came through in the stunningly funky cover. It was easily cemented as one of my favorites of the entire weekend. Rounding out the set with sing-a-longs like “Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours,” “Superstition” and “Higher Ground,” there are very few things that compared to looking in every direction and seeing literally everyone in your range singing along.

Shortly following Wonder, Jay-Z completely altered my feelings on live hip-hop. With the New York backdrop lighting up the stage, Jay-Z plowed through as many songs as possible but in a way I didn’t think could be so enjoyable. He may have only played a few verses of some of his best songs, but he more than knew the right songs to play all the way through. “We’re gonna turn it up to 99 on this next one,” he said, breaking into an amazing live performance of “99 Problems.” Making triangles with their hands, the fans bowed down to their beloved Hova, who made sure to remind the crowd on several occasions that he now had 11 No. 1 albums, not 10.

But again, it was the moments that dominated the evening. As Jay-Z’s two-hour set came to an unfortunate close, he insisted that the crowd remain “Young Forever,” breaking into his latest single with what seemed like the entirety of Bonnaroo joining in on the refrain. With the sardine-packed crowd so pleased, no one seemed to mind that the walk out of the field — by that point filled with mud, empty beer cans and abandoned pizza crust — took nearly 45 minutes.

Sure, the great lineup was indeed a recipe for success, as ’Roo-goers could see anything from bluegrass with actor/comedian Steve Martin (who is one of the best banjo players I have ever seen) to Rebelution, a funky reggae group that I could hear all the way from my campsite, to stellar comedians like Conan O’Brien (who was legally barred from TV and made sure we all knew it) and Aziz Ansari. But the moments were ones that I won’t soon forget. Not every band was “true love” for me, but from seeing my first DJ set to nearly passing out at my second DJ set (Deadmau5) or casually being sung to sleep in the shade by National front man Matt Berninger, I knew these moments couldn’t come from anywhere else in the world at that time but Manchester, Tennessee.

LCD played for nearly two hours, delivering hits like “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House” and “All My Friends” peppered with new tracks off the new album, This Is Happening. Equally versatile in person as he is on his records, Murphy’s vocals were impeccable. And the instrumentation was just as clean. From the snarky, nasal “Yr City’s a Sucker” to the melancholy, melodic “I Can Change,” Murphy cradled the mic by his heart as he killed every track.

Murphy’s unaffected comedic nature came effortlessly on Thursday. He casually drew attention to his drummer, stage left, who was wearing hot pants, and the crowd roared in approval for the barelegged percussionist. Towards the end of the show, Murphy expressed his concern to the crowd about them taking videos (“That’s cool, put ‘em up on YouTube!”) while chiding that if the crowd was too focused on recording, they might not fully enjoy the show. The crowd made “oohs” in unison, backing Murphy’s diss. It could have come off self-righteous but instead served as a playful reminder to the audience why they were there and why they love LCD. Murphy’s little remark also reflected the non-threatening irony and wit of his music. Like in “Losing My Edge,” the hilarious, gritty seven-minute plus single that launched the band, the crowd relinquished their cool, singing with Murphy, “I’m losing my edge to better-looking people/With better ideas and more talent/And they’re actually really, really nice.”

The front row, or mob really, was drenched in sweat and beer. They bounced off one another like slippery ping pong balls to the beat of “Us V Them” with its repetitive lyrics and driving cowbell. And the techno track “Yeah” made for great softcore moshing despite minimal space on the crowded standing-room-only floor. But the trance beats and callback chants of “Pow Pow” produced the most thrusting fists and bobbing heads. Murphy and his six cohorts on stage created an invigorating and seamless amalgamation of live and synthesized instrumentation.

Staying true to his NY home, the show ended with some serious homage. No LCD show is complete without “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,” but the odd treat was what followed: a remix of Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “Empire State of Mind.” Even this cover didn’t feel out of place because Murphy’s tastes and techniques only lure fans in further with their diversity, made apparent by the applause for “Empire” before the end of the first chord.

Although treacherous rumors had been floating around that this might be LCD’s last tour, with This Is Happening being reportedly their last album, Mr. Murphy, cool and calm, reassured the SF crowd that he will be back. And since he is the ultimate authority on everything, his word should be trusted like the word of God. Between his attitude and his talent, Murphy somehow managed to be the coolest uncool dude because, well, “there’s advantages to each.”

A few years ago, Ebert found himself having broken up with his girlfriend, moving out of his house, and joining alcoholics anonymous. Sleeping on a blowup mattress in L.A. with no internet or telephone, Ebert turned to writing; creating a Jesus-like figure that comes to Earth to save mankind. Unfortunately, he quickly loses sight of his goal, after getting distracted by and falling in love with women. The name given to this heroic but all-too-human savior: Edward Sharpe.

Ebert’s story seemed to turn into a self-fulfilled prophecy when he met Jade Castrinos outside of a Mexican restaurant in downtown L.A. The two fell in love and started making music together. They wrangled up a troop of musicians and – not unlike the Von Trapps – toured the U.S. in a white school bus.

Along with a full set of run-of-the-mill rock instruments, the crew of musicians toted an upright grand piano, keyboards, violins, a ukulele, a trumpet, bells, and an unprecedented number of tambourines. Focusing on his vocals – which were spot on – Ebert was dancing and occasionally shaking as if he were a man possessed. Castrinos – subject of many Magnetic Zeroes songs – jubilantly harmonized throughout. The band seemed absolutely joyous, dancing and hopping around throughout the set.

“We kind of love it here,” said Ebert during a break in the action. “It’s sad that we won’t be back until next year.”

As soon as the Zeroes began playing their current indie-radio staple “Home,” the audience became electrified. Moving as one, the crowd bobbed and swayed with every heartbreaking note. Ebert and Castrinos have the synergy of a modern-day Sonny and Cher, and it seemed as though even the most cynical ticket-holders were swooning “Home is wherever I’m with you,” mesmerized by the couples’ storybook romance.

Their stage presence matched the “Edward Sharpe” messianic epic. Ebert played the bandleader role brilliantly, guiding his musicians through the impressively substantial set. Ebert closed by breaking down the audience/band barrier, inviting 50 or so people on the stage to hang out while he delved into the pit. Guitarist Christian Letts sat on the stage and accompanied him on the somber but beautiful track “Brother.”

It was clear that the Zeroes are just as concerned with creating a sense of audience camaraderie as they are with writing wondrous ballads.

On the first warm night of the season, the immense Fox was abuzz with a diverse community of fans, from teenage Deschanel-wannabes in floral skirts to chic cocktail-sipping 20-somethings to middle-aged married couples. The anticipation was heady and palpable, even in the cavernous Fox.

M. Ward, better known as the Him in She & Him, started the set accompanied by a bassist, guitarist and drummer, and two backing vocalists. The crowd cheered and whistled enthusiastically, and then went wild as Deschanel walked briskly onstage. Clad in a tiny blue dress and stockings, she appeared charming and girlish. The band jumped right into their first song, the upbeat “I Was Made For You,” with Deschanel hopping up and down to the beat, clapping a tambourine above her head. Ward stood calmly to the side, plucking away at his guitar and giving her center stage, but Deschanel seemed hardly comfortable there. Watching her sing the first few songs of the set was less inspiring and more amusing, like observing an energetic child at her first recital. But the excitement was infectious, and despite Deschanel’s sometimes over-eager enthusiasm, it was hard not to smile.

Ward has undeniable stage presence that immediately overcomes Deschanel’s when he takes the mic. The familiar songs sounded jarringly up-tempo compared to the album versions, but Ward exemplified the steadiness the band required. He also kept Deschanel grounded, as she jumped and skipped between her mic and keyboard. Expectations that Deschanel would remain childish, however, quickly melted away as she crooned “Take It Back,” a softer number the pair played alone lit by two solitary spotlights. Here, Deschanel completely embraced the full range of her voice, and seemed at ease on the stage for the first time all night. Ward came in for a few harmonies, his slow voice mellow and soothing.

The remainder of the set and the two encores were a mixture of She & Him favorites and covers of classics including Louis Armstrong’s and Ella Fitzgerald’s “Would You Like To Take A Walk.” With their romantically old sound, blending ’60s and ’70s country with elements of blues and doo-wop, She & Him sound inherently grown-up. But the true magic was watching Deschanel, with Ward by her side, evolve from a love-struck little girl to a wiser young chanteuse, all within a matter of an hour and a half.

Frightened Rabbit aimed for this effect on every song they played at the Fillmore in San Francisco May 19th. It proved to be exhausting, and not necessarily in a good way.

The Scottish indie rockers, at their best, play endearing tunes filled with male post-breakup angst. The chord progressions and melodies are designed to pack an emotional wallop, not necessarily to be innovative or interesting. Scott Hutchison’s lyrics combine testosterone-filled spittle with darkly humorous self-loathing. Add in his thick brogue and these lads have an undeniably powerful formula. Indeed, many of their numbers hit close to home during their concert. All the couples in the crowd making out and tightly holding each other were obviously getting something out of it.

But the scope of Frightened Rabbit’s sound often belied their attempts to connect with the listener on a personal level. They used to be a trio, and watching three dudes go to town on their instruments only to muster a thin, ramshackle sound had a real charm to it.

At their Fillmore appearance, they were a bloated quintet, and their newly found, stadium-ready sound was problematic. The bass (conspicuously absent from their previous lineups), synths and electronics seemed anachronistic. Everything added up to a monolithic tidal wave of sound that didn’t wash over the audience so much as drown them.

This move towards grandiosity was quite alienating. Frightened Rabbit weren’t the earnest, lovable self-deprecators that they were on 2008′s wonderful The Midnight Organ Fight. Rather, they were self-aggrandizers. They used to approach subjects like dissolving relationships and sexual frustration within their proper scope, treating them as the kind of confusing, enervating shit that everyone goes through.

At Wednesday’s concert they turned these molehill-sized problems into Mount Everests of neurosis. They postured themselves more like martyrs than people going through ordinary sufferings. Between songs, Hutchison joked about being twice as good as Jesus, and given what he was trying to achieve during the show, the quip didn’t come off quite as ironic as he might have liked. Straight from the opening number, “Skip the Youth,” they aimed for chest-thumping, shirt-clenching catharsis. But, there’s a limit on the number of peaks and valleys one can go through before the roller coaster starts making you feel queasy and want off.

Bombast didn’t suit them well. Great, caustic lyrics like “You’re the shit and I’m knee deep in it” and “This girl, she was nothing like you” got buried under all the overwrought heaviness. The best moments of the concert were when the band stripped away the histrionics, as on songs like “The Twist” or “Old Old Fashioned,” both undeniably catchy and clever tunes. On each, Hutchison pleads for human connection. And with more modest, humble arrangements, it was easy to get on his level.

Even better was when Hutchison took the stage solo for the encore, playing the fingerpicked, plainspoken ballad “Poke.” This simple forthrightness was much more moving than the rest of the overdone show.

As I filed out of the Fillmore, brushing up a little too close to my fellow concertgoers, I felt tired and lonely. No matter how hard I tried, the band’s huge sound kept me always just at arm’s length.

Judging by the boisterous reactions of the crowd at Michigan State U’s Breslin Center on May 21, O’Brien’s “Legally Prohibited from Being Funny on Television Tour” did not disappoint. For two hours, O’Brien entertained the crowd with a mix of stand-up, musical performances, familiar props and features of his former shows and some special guests.

After opener Reggie Watts and the Legally Prohibited Band (featuring familiar faces such as Richie “LaBamba” Rosenberg, whose face O’Brien later licked during the show), O’Brien took the stage wearing a MSU jersey underneath his sport coat. 

He explained his excitement for being in Michigan, with a warm response from the Spartans. The crowd ate up O’Brien’s name-checking of local restaurants and businesses (he claimed that his new job will be at the East Lansing “Meijers”), as well as direct digs at school rivals.

According to O’Brien, he rejected a bid by U. Michigan to play on their campus.

“I don’t like that school,” he told the crowd. “Any school that needs a football stadium that big must have a small penis.” 

He joked MSU had a major drinking problem, since the students in attendance at the show clearly did not realize school ended weeks ago.

“Your mascot should be a hung-over Spartan vomiting into his helmet.”

O’Brien was not alone on stage that evening. Longtime sidekick Andy Richter joined in on the fun, as did Triumph the Insult Comic Dog in a pre-taped segment with local jokes dubbed into the tape. Deon Cole, a former writer for O’Brien, also took the stage for standup. 

Michigan resident Sarah Killen spent her 15 minutes of fame with O’Brien onstage after he chose her Twitter account as the only one he’d follow.

Killen pulled the “Walker, Texas Ranger” Lever, rechristened the “Chuck Norris, Rural Policeman Handle” due to O’Brien’s former employer, NBC, owning the intellectual rights over the original name.  For the same reason, “the Self-Pleasuring Panda” visited the crowd, instead of the notorious Masturbating Bear. 

Both bits brought familiar elements of O’Brien’s shows to the audience (including the famous “Walker” clip where Haley Joel Osment’s character bluntly states “Walker told [him] he had AIDS”), and reminded people why they paid to see the show live. 

As O’Brien said, it was the first time people ever paid to see him and in return, he attempted to make the show as personal as possible.

While O’Brien is best known for his comedy, another passion of his is music. Throughout much of the show, O’Brien had a guitar in his hand, singing original and parody songs (such as “My Own Show Again” to the tune of “On the Road Again”), which brought a unique spin to his comedy not often seen on television. 

In keeping with the musical theme, O’Brien’s guest that evening, Michigan native Kid Rock took the stage to explain, in song, why he would make a good president. 

“I’d put TV cameras in the Lincoln Bedroom, and the whole nation could watch Rock layin’ it down,” he sang.

O’Brien’s show combined the best of his comedy with his personal musical hobbies, his friends in show business and local flavor to create a show that kept the audience laughing and cheering all night. At the end of the show, O’Brien ran through the crowd of the Breslin Center, high-fiving and hugging fans in the audience, all the way up to the upper sections of the arena. 

He made the show as personal as possible, showing even though he may have fared well financially in the wake of the NBC controversy, he still cared about the people who made him popular. He will begin his new show on TBS Nov. 8, so it is unlikely that O’Brien will have the chance to tour again. For those lucky people who had the chance to attend the “Legally Prohibited Tour,” it will be a memorable and unique experience.

Judging by the massive audience applause throughout the show, it seemed fairly unanimous that O’Brien made the show more than “sort of worth it.” 

MSU’s representatives of “Team Coco” can sleep well knowing they were able to be a part of such a riotous experience that showed why O’Brien has been beloved for nearly 20 years.

As they settled themselves after sound check, the band members shifted their focus to a spread of catered food and drinks–a half-eaten rotisserie chicken, organic avocados and beef jerky littered a coffee table between bottles of sake and Orangina. But the peace was broken by a provision of pungent cheese that lay untouched on the table.

“That cheese f—— reeks,” said bassist Ira Wolf Tuton. “It’s f—— grossing me out.”

Despite the moans, the cheese remained. No one was willing to put in the energy or relinquish his comfortable position to take action. It was too much work.

At the tail end of a tour that began in February, the members of Yeasayer were tired. They’d been everywhere from Coachella to Cologne, and only one performance–a college gig at Stanford–lay between them and the promise of home. And that’s where conversation fluttered toward, as they could hardly hide the anticipation of sleeping in their own beds for the first time in four months. Guitarist Anand Wilder began counting off the shows he’d be attending while home–HAIR, Iggy Pop and a Sleigh Bells release party. But Tuton politely disagreed.

“F— that, I’m not going,” he said. “The last thing I want to do a day after tour is go to a show. F— that. F— no. That’s like one of the five days we’re off. I don’t want to be in a loud venue. I just want to go to dinner when I want to go to dinner and chill.”

“You don’t really like music, huh?,” Wilder joshed.

“I don’t really like music,” Tuton replied. “I like personal music, not collective music.”

Two hours before their scheduled appearance, Yeasayer looked more like a bunch of college students on the brink of summer than a band who has enjoyed a meteoric rise up the indie ranks after releasing their second album, “Odd Blood.” Still, they had an obligation to play, and after being moved indoors because of rain, the show seemed an easy way to kill an hour or two before they boarded red-eyes for the East Coast.

After the opening act, The Sea People (which includes a few Stanford students), Yeasayer stepped on stage to an enthusiastic crowd loaded into the quickly prepared Oak Room in Tresidder Union. Among them stood dedicated fans with signs and those simply interested in glimpsing the $18,000 coup that Stanford Concert Network managed to pull off in attracting the band to campus.

But Yeasayer came on, seemingly preoccupied by their thoughts of home. Launching immediately into “The Children,” the auto-tuned anomaly from “Odd Blood,” the band couldn’t shake the lethargy that had plagued them for much of the afternoon. Those unfamiliar with the song were puzzled, hoping that the low-pitched, Gothic chant was not the band’s M.O. Luckily, it’s not, and following the sedated start, the band kicked it up another gear to pump out the enjoyable “Rome” and later “Summer.”

Still, crowd interaction was at a premium, as lead singer Chris Keating only addressed the audience four songs in and seemed intent on finishing the set as soon as possible. The feeling was palpable. The crowd, while welcoming with brief bursts of applause, was unsure how to react, creating an awkward atmosphere between song transitions.

At that point, “2080″ was more than welcome, and the song served as something of a turning point for Yeasayer’s set. The apocalyptic tune provided a kind of second wind to both the band and the crowd, as Keating, Wilder and Tuton alternated between the song’s melodic wailing and fast-paced chanting. It provided a platform from which to launch into the band’s hits, as they next played fan-favorite “Tightrope” and the infectious “O.N.E.”

The smiles came out soon after, as Yeasayer found their comfort zone more than halfway through their performance. But with their set fixed, the feeling only lasted for a few songs after. Cue “Madder Red,” an impressive display of harmonies and Wilder’s solo efforts and finally, “Ambling Alp,” which sent the crowd into raptures and caused a somewhat forced stage invasion. And while Yeasayer left to chants of “one more song,” they were having none of it. Their manager stepped on stage to hush the crowd and send them to the exits. Stepping off stage, Yeasayer was homeward bound as soon as the last synth cut out.