Now that’s what I call a jacket…
We
staggered back to Sacha just as MGMT were warming up. If Grizzly Bear were
sun-kissed psychedelic retro-pop then this lot took it to a whole new level.
Although the National and Grizzly Bear were dressed in an unassuming fashion,
so low-key that they could have swapped places with most of the audience (and
that to me is a “good thing”) then MGMT were definitely going for
“we-are-on-stage-and-we-have-found-a -dressing -up-box- from- the- 60’s” look.
Unlike Florence & the Machine though their dress code was more than matched
by the music. It was like the spirit of
Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd had been transported forty years hence. Unlike
Grizzly Bear and their sort of math rock, jazz stylings, this was pop, pure
pop, but twisted and refracted to a point almost beyond recognition. They
sounded like one of the more wayward tracks from an obscure band on the Nuggets
compilations, but playing on better equipment and with knowledge of what had
happened in the past four decades. At the end of the set, they played a long
long jam. There were dancers on stage, confetti fluttering around, it was
getting close to 8.00 pm and although the sun was just starting to dip lower in
the sky, it was still hot. The music and the weather dovetailed as if made for
each other. It truly was a special way to end the afternoon. Peace and love.
Hey,
man. Just dig that MGMT.
Get/read/see "Turn Left at the Womble" here:
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