First off, I’d like to apologize to Luke for it taking forever to post it. And to Beth, the publicist. I suck. I’m done apologizing and have no moved on to drinking Boddington’s Pub Ale and suggest you do the same. – The Emperor.
Riotfest
October 10-12th 2008
Chicago, IL
Sexy, Sexy Riotfest
Ah, Riotfest, how much I’ve missed you since last year. I’ve longed for months and months while you teased me, slowly revealing portions of your succulent lineup, but now you’ve returned to me, exposing your full lineup in all its glory, with even more variety than the last. I have made the six hour trek to the Windy City, where you are staging a host of shows at varying venues over the course of the weekend. How kind of you to book a block of rooms at a very posh hotel. I only wish it was even remotely close to any of said venues. Oh, but I can’t stay angry at you Riotfest… no, not for long. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must convey details of our sordid affair to the Racket readers.
Unlike last year, which consisted of two days at the Congress Theatre, this year the fest had shows going on at a handful of clubs and venues in Chicago. There were shows each night at the Double Door and the Cobra Lounge, as well as a Friday night show at the House of Blues and the big Sunday show at the Congress Theatre. Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out how to traverse different dimensions yet so I was only able to be at one show at a time.
Day 1 – Give Me a Moment
Friday night I passed on the Big Drill Car show in favor of watching my favorite band, The Bouncing Souls, at the House of Blues with Lawrence Arms, Shot Baker, Das Kapital and the Frankl Project. As previously mentioned, the Sheraton Gateway Suites, where Riotfest organizers had secured a block of rooms at a reduced rate, is out by O’Hare, nowhere near any of the events. Throw in some Friday rush hour traffic and you’ve got yourself a nasty hour and a half trip to cover the eighteen miles from the airport into the city.
My friends and I didn’t arrive at the House of Blues until 7:15pm, and were unanimously starving. While doors were advertised to open at 5pm and we could already hear music upstairs, we opted to satiate our hunger with a dinner at the restaurant before going in. When in Rome, right?
This would also give my sister a little time to show up. Hitchhiking from Salt Lake City, a trucking couple had given her a little cash which she used to buy a bus ticket to Chicago when she was dropped off in Davenport. She boarded the bus in Davenport at around 4 o’clock to make the last leg of her trip to Chicago, where she was due to arrive at 8pm.
The prices in the restaurant, not surprisingly, were outrageous, particularly for the libations. This wouldn’t have been such an issue if the House of Blues wasn’t under contract with Anheuser-Busch to only carry shitty-ass, piss beer.
For dinner I had the Creole Catfish, which featured a catfish fillet covered with their Shrimp Creole on a bed of rice with a side of green beans. The main dish was delicious, but the green beans were terrible, and after trying my friend Matt’s sweet potato fries I wished I had substituted the beans for a side of my own.
We finished eating right around eight and the rest of my party went into the show while I waited out front for my sister. She doesn’t have a cell phone so I had no way of letting her know I had a ticket waiting for her at the window. A short time later I got word from Matt that the Souls were going on. I was in the middle of asking the security guard stationed out front to keep an eye out for my sister when I spotted her walking up. We hugged and quickly made our way in.
We were held up so security could search my sister’s bag before letting us in. She had a hatchet and a knife in it because if you are going to bum rides across the country from strangers you would be an idiot not to, but fortunately security gave up on looking through it when people started bypassing them altogether. We had no intention of stabbing anyone so no harm no foul. My sis checked her bag at the coat check and we went to find the rest of our crew.
The Souls had only played a few songs before I got in, one of which was “East Coast, Fuck You!” I’m always a little surprised at how willing fans in places so very un-East Coast are to sing a song that basically disses their location. While I panned the crowd searching for my peeps the Souls informed the audience that it was bassist Bryan Kienlen’s birthday and led everyone in singing Happy Birthday to him. They played a couple of numbers, including “That Song” and “The Gold Song” before one of the highlights of the night.
Singer Greg Attonito, donning an acoustic guitar, noted that sometimes the right cover for the night just reveals itself as he began strumming an incredible, slowed, acoustic version of the Misfits’ “Hybrid Moments.” Allow me to invoke the spirit of Chicago native Wesley Willis (R.I.P.) – the crowd roared like a lion! In all seriousness, it was one of the most memorable moments I’ve had at a Souls show, and I’ve seen them in the neighborhood of 23 times (I stopped counting at 20) so I’m drawing from a pretty large pool here. Next he launched into an acoustic version of “Gone,” playing nearly the entire song solo before the band broke back in toward the end of the number.
The hits kept coming, “Kate is Great,” “Say Anything,” “Lean on Sheena,” “Private Radio,” and of course, they closed with “True Believers.” All in all, it was a great set. I was a little disappointed with the sheer number of people who were apparently unfamiliar with the band. One of my favorite parts about a Bouncing Souls show is the camaraderie normally seen in the crowd. It was largely absent on this night. Don’t get me wrong, there was a packed house, but there was also an overwhelming lack of kids singing along, one of my criteria for a standout Souls’ show.
Next up were Chicago’s own Lawrence Arms. Featuring former members of Slapstick, a great band from the ‘90s, these guys are one of Fat Wreck Chords stronger acts right now, in my opinion. I am no expert on them or their music, but they seem to take themselves a little more seriously than label mates like NOFX or Lagwagon. NOFX is amazingly funny and entertaining live, but there is something to be said for taking yourself seriously once in a while. They were good, but for this set, I got to play the role of the guy I was just complaining about regarding the Souls’ performance. I mostly stood in the back and took it all in. One thing I did notice: apparently, in Chicago flannel is making a huge comeback. Lots of members of the audience were in flannel, as was bassist and vocalist Brendan Kelly, and I momentarily thought I was at a Pearl Jam concert.
Day 2 – Fuck the Double Door
For Saturday night’s offerings my sister really wanted to see Reagan Youth so I headed there instead of the free Valient Thorr show going down at the Cobra Lounge. We were late yet again, having met up with our friend Claire and going back to her place for drinks before the show. We arrived in time to catch the tail end of the Ergs! set. With the exception of the Ergs! I’m not really into any of the bands who were on this bill and I went solely to cover the show. I wish there was more that I could say about it, but during the Reagan Youth set there was an incident involving my sister that prevented me from catching the rest of the show.
Basically, she stage dove. The Double Door has a policy against that, which is stated on a poorly located 8”X11” piece of paper taped to a wall inside of the front entrance. Of course, these venues only have these rules and signs for liability reasons. If they really didn’t want stage diving, moshing or other behavior common to this music they wouldn’t host fucking punk rock or metal shows, now would they?
My sister was given no warning and told she had to go. She pleaded with the pretend punk who was kicking her out to let her stay, informing him that she had hitchhiked from Utah for the show, and she had no idea where she was or how to get anywhere (all true). I made similar pleas with the guy after she came to inform me what was going on, but to no avail. At this point I lost sight of my sister.
Eventually I found her outside getting manhandled by two gigantic bouncers. They had ripped her shirt off while struggling to control all 100 pounds of her and were refusing to let her cover up. She was wearing a bra, but that’s plenty humiliating enough. From this point forward I would argue that any behavior she exhibited would be absolutely within reason and completely justified, yet, despite the bullshit claims of the security staff, at no point did she “slap” or otherwise assault any single one of them. I impugned their integrity, manhood, intelligence and most other things in not so few or kind words when I witnessed their treatment of her.
Initially they tried to claim that she had kicked and broke a pane of glass in their door. This is a claim they later dropped. I don’t know how it happened, but it’s just as likely that the bouncers did it while they physically escorted my sister out. It’s also just as likely that some punk kid did it.
A short time later, after telling my sister that they had no right to hold her- the job of the bouncers was to protect the club and they had already removed her from it- another bouncer went to grab me. There are two natural, innate responses in a situation like this, as many of our readers might be aware: fight or flight. I wasn’t about to try to fight a group of professional bouncers because a) that would give them just cause to lay their hands on me and b) that’s a losing battle. As it were, I wasn’t accused of having done anything, nor had I done anything. So when three of them grabbed me from behind and threw me to the pavement, had my arms been free, it would have been me who called the cops, seeing as how I had just been assaulted by strange men outside a nightclub in downtown Chicago.
However, assaulted and attacked as I was, one of their meathead bouncers called the cops and started throwing out keywords and phrases like “belligerent” and “tried to strike me” in order to get the cops to respond. I told the chief meathead he was full of it and asked him not to perjure himself to the police when they arrived. When the police showed up I was handcuffed and after speaking to me for maybe two minutes it was clear to the officer that I was not belligerent and quite composed compared to the scene the lying security staff had described. I was then let loose and went on to tell them what happened to my sister.
One of the Riotfest organizers came out and gave my sister a shirt to cover up with. The next day at the big Sunday show we approached him to thank him. He introduced himself simply as Ben and stated that “It was nothing at all. It was just the right thing.”
The police were very sympathetic to the situation and weren’t falling for most of the playbook story. The security staff claimed she attempted to slap one of the guards, so the police did arrest her for battery; however, they advised her to get a lawyer and potentially file charges against the club herself after hearing our side of the events. One officer told me I had done the right thing for sticking up for her under those circumstances. Another asked if we were Irish. I told him yes, we were, and then they told me where my sister was being taken, the booking process and other pertinent information before sending me on my way.
I stuck around until the whole scene had dissipated and went to round up Claire. I gave her a brief synopsis of what went down and said I didn’t much want to stick around for the rest of the show. We made our way toward the bus station to head back to her place where I would wait for a collect call from my sister.
I will never take my business to the Double Door again, not even if Johnny, Joey and Dee Dee rise from the dead to play there.
Day 3 – Redemption
This was the day that really mattered. A full bill of bands playing on two stages at the historic Congress Theatre on Milwaukee Avenue were set to get the punk kids moving and grooving for a full day’s worth of entertainment. It would have been impossible to watch every band playing, as their sets overlapped on fifteen minute intervals, but I did see a great many acts. The bands I saw, in order of appearance were DOA, the Methadones, the Horrorpops, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, the Ergs!, Jay Reatard, Teenage Bottlerocket, Leftover Crack, the Casualties, and All.
Some comments on the fest in general: The lines to get into the fest were very poorly thought out. People who purchased tickets in advance, but made use of will call were forced to stand in line with people who were planning to buy their tickets at the door. Only people with actual tickets in hand could bypass the line. The line stretched clear around the block and was about three people wide.
For whatever reason, the temperature reached a near-scorching 86 degrees, despite it being mid-October, so the wait in line was dreadful. Once the line turned the corner it split into one line for will call and another for tickets. Will-callers would have been able to wait a much shorter time had the entire line been instructed to split ahead of time, rather than just before the doors. In the end, people with the foresight to buy tickets in advance probably had to wait even longer than those without because once inside, the lines joined back together so everyone could get searched. It was a total mess.
Part of the problem with the entry procedure was that a second stage had been erected in the Congress lobby this year. It was a great move to allow more bands to play, but was disastrous from a strategic standpoint. The Congress has somewhere around five to seven doors leading into the lobby, all but one of which were exit only or off limits due to the stage.
This brings me to my only other complaint. The sound and acoustics at the second/lobby stage were absolutely horrific. The stage was facing north, while the entrance into the main stage area was on the eastern side, as were stairs leading to the balcony area. I think both the stage setup and the lay of the room contributed to the problem. Bands appearing on the second stage were very hard to make sense of. I sometimes couldn’t make sense of songs performed by bands that I listen to on repeat, such as the Methadones and the Ergs!
These complaints are really minor in the grand scheme of things. The show was awesome, to be sure. DOA was playing when we arrived and they were typical. Not bad, just typical, solid, old school punk played by old school punks. The only two numbers I recognized were “Police Brutality” and “Smash the State.”
The Methadones were one of the bands I was most looking forward to seeing. Unfortunately, they were playing on the second stage. The crowd for their set was really large for the space, which was awesome, but it was difficult to figure out what they were performing. They played some great songs like “Sorry to See You Waiting,” “Transistor Radio,” “You Don’t Know Me Anymore,” and one of my personal favorites “Say Goodbye to Your Generation.” Ronnie from the Arrivals was substituting on drums, which was cool. The last time the Copyrights stayed at my house he was filling in for Luke, who couldn’t get out of work for the tour, and he totally helped me move all of my heavy furniture into my U-Haul the morning after the show. I talked to him briefly and felt glad I got to see him.
I didn’t watch much of the Horrorpops at all, only the tale end after the Methadones finished. The first time I saw them I was highly unimpressed, and I didn’t see anything spectacular in the short time I devoted to them this year either.
The highlight of the show by far was the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. I hadn’t seen these guys since some Warped Tour in the mid to late ‘90s, and seeing a band at the Warped Tour is sorta like watching that animated Star Wars film – sure, it’s got the Star Wars imprint, but it’s just not the same. Well, the Bosstones had a full hour tonight, and they made every minute count. They worked the crowd magnificently, encouraging and compelling people to dance; kicking out the jams all the while. Most of the faces were familiar, but a few of the horn players were new. Ben Carr, the group’s designated dancer was on hand, and the whole set just made me feel good. They mixed great classics like “Where’d You Go?,” and “Someday I Suppose” with covers of ska standards like the Clash’s “Rudy Can’t Fail” and newer hits like “The Impression That I get.” Oh, and speaking of the Warped Tour, Dicky said that he was honored to play Riotfest and something along the lines of the crowd having so many real punks it made the Warped Tour look like a visit to the mall, which is essentially what it is anymore.
I left a little over halfway through the Bosstones’ set to catch the Ergs!, who, having announced on the web that they were breaking up after this tour ended, I thought I would be seeing for the last time. Their set was energetic and lots of kids were jumping around, but they really suffered from the acoustics. I could barely make out anything they sang or played. I talked with Jeffrey Erg! a little later about the confusion surrounding their breakup and learned that they were playing the very next night in Columbus. You’ll be able to read a full write-up of that show for a better take on an Ergs! set very soon.[Editor’s note- Sorry Luke, the Ergs! review went up before this one. Go check it out!] Jeff also noted that he thought songs bands performed two hours ago were still bouncing around off the walls at the second stage.
Next up was Jay Reatard. This guy is apparently some sort of big deal who critics love and got signed to Matador Records with a lot of hipster cred. Well, apparently hipsters don’t have a very good gauge on what makes for good punk rock’n’roll because this guy bored me stiff. The set had lots of excessive soloing and the whole thing was very grandiose and contrived. I’ll pass.
Teenage Bottlerocket was another victim of the second stage. I stayed for maybe five inaudible songs before giving up and going to relax for a while. I literally couldn’t even identify the songs, it just sounded like a bunch of fuzz. This was absolutely not the band’s fault; I’ve seen them a handful of times in smaller, well laid out venues, opening for the Queers and others, and they are great live, as were the Lillingtons before them. Organizers will have to figure something else out for next year because this just didn’t work.
Not long into Leftover Crack’s set, Strg asked the crowd who they were there to see. I thought this little bit of showboating was a tad unnecessary and unfitting for a band that is anti-nearly everything. “They must not be anti-narcissism,” I thought to myself, but to my surprise, when they finished playing the entire fucking Congress Theatre emptied out. I guess everyone really was there to see Leftover Crack.
As far as the set is concerned, I’ll be brief. They were great. They generated a ton of excitement, so much so that security cleared out the press pit because so many fans were coming over the barricade.
But seriously, you’re going to leave before the Casualties or ALL play? I mean, the Casualties have only been playing anarcho-punk for ten years longer than Leftover Crack…and All, well, that’s only the Descendents, one of the most seminal groups in the entire punk spectrum, minus Milo…so why stay!?!?!?!? RIGHT?!?!?! Fucking kids.
The Casualties were good. I was a little disappointed that their mohawks had gotten shorter. Jorge was as ferocious on the vox as always, yelling his guts out. The portion of the crowd that did stick around was at least into it. There was a sizeable circle pit going for most of the performance.
I’ve never really even cared for the Descendents or ALL, but I have enough respect for the forefathers of the bands I like to at least stick around and watch them play. Riotfest has a history of getting bands that have thrown in the towel back together, and this year ALL’s performance was a one night only show featuring Scott Reynolds, who left the band way back in 1993. This wouldn’t impress the kids who left after Leftover Crack though, because they have no idea who ALL is.
Conclusion
All in all this was a great weekend full of punk rock. The fest eclipsed last year’s effort by a wide margin. There were more people and bands on hand, and Scott Reynolds isn’t insane so the lead singer didn’t sit down on the stage and pray throughout the entire performance of the closing act, as was the case with Bad Brains last year. I’m already excited about next year because a few bands who cancelled have promised to play and I look forward to seeing who else gets added. I hope that after witnessing the trouble at the Double Door, maybe the organizers will overlook this venue next time around.
Thanks to Matt, Jamie and Rachel for tagging along with me, my sister for trekking cross-country for the show, and Claire for hanging out and putting me up the night my sister was in lockdown.
-Luke Toney