I’m the kind of person who prefers a person with a microphone fronting a live band, so if you had told me I’d basically stop going to Outside Lands and become a regular at Portola, I wouldn’t have believed you. Yet here we are!
This year, the big draw for me was Robyn, but as we talked about in our preview, the Swedish takeover of the festival was welcomed on many fronts: Tove Lo, Swedish House Mafia and Zara Larsson were all on my list for the lineup once it was announced. But how would it all go once I was out there?
My original plan was to go on Saturday only, so I planned to arrive right at the beginning, making sure especially to see the ebullient Gelli Haha (on her birthday), who we had caught at Brick & Mortar Music Hall, but alas, it was not meant to be due to a work emergency. So I asked my friend Mike, who did watch them, for a brief review: “They’re great!”
So my first act of the day was Tricky, the trip-hop legend who, while I was watching, didn’t seem to be doing much at all. He had a guitarist, drummer, and two lead vocalists. Every once in a while, he’d approach the microphone, but I’m not sure it was on because I couldn’t hear him. It sounded fine, but it wasn’t what I expected at all. Meanwhile, at the next stage over, The Ship Tent, there was way too much enthusiastic screaming for me to ignore. I had to go check it out.
What I discovered there was Six Sex, which I later found defined as “the hentai avatar of 25-year-old Francisca Agustina Cuello.” There is absolutely nothing subtle about Six Sex. From the clothes (not many) to the music and lyrics, she aggressively creates a party all on her own. The whole performance felt like it came from a future that doesn’t include me, but I completely understand the appeal. I’m not sure her microphone was on, either, but not a single person inside this tent complained. They were too busy dancing.
Quick Portola aside: if you’re ever looking at the app and trying to decide what act to see, and one of them includes ASL interpretation, that’s the one to see. Make sure you’re standing near the interpreter, because they only have excellent people doing this, dancing and performing the songs as they’re being played by the artists. Sometimes you’ll find the interpreter to be a better dancer than the artist. This is a highlight of the event for me.
Next, the Ship Tent was going to host Mike D 5D, a set I wasn’t planning to miss. While most of the Six Sex crowd went far away, a few diehards in Beastie Boys t-shirts took the front rows and got ready to see a true musical legend take the stage with his new project. 5D is his band, made up of 2 musicians, 2 DJs, and one guy who went back and forth. They performed much of the new album, and then the material people came for: 5 Beastie Boys covers. “Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun” was my personal favorite of these, and that’s also when the small mosh pit started near me. Based on pit reactions only, it turns out that when it comes to Mike D sets, whatcha want is more Beastie Boys songs. The people near me couldn’t have been more thrilled, though, as for many, this was their first time seeing any Beastie Boys!
Next up, I made the trek to see Tove Lo, planning to spend much of her set slowly moving forward to get a good spot for Robyn. I couldn’t think of a better “opener” for Robyn than Tove Lo, and I was concerned that no one would be watching her and NOT stay for Robyn, but as she was playing her perfect pop confections, showing her tits during “Talking Body,” and leading a huge sing-along to “Habits (Stay High)”, I found myself about three bodies behind the rail in front by the end of her set. Now surrounded by Robyn fans of all types (mostly millennial couples of all orientations), I was ready for my personal main event.
And I’m happy to tell you that Robyn did not disappoint, nor did the vast quantity of millennial couples and other revelers. We sang, hugged, cried, danced, jumped, took way too many photos and videos, and generally had the best hour we’ve all had in recent memory. Robyn apologized for singing so many sad love songs, but sad love songs are the fuel that makes pop music go. Mix in a few angry songs, some funny missives on getting older and a costume change, and you get a perfect hour from Sweden’s greatest export since ABBA.
When she finished, I hustled myself over to the Crane Stage where Fatboy Slim had started his set during the closing minutes of Robyn’s. Thankfully there wasn’t a full clash, and I got there in time to enjoy a full hour of truly exciting music with a fun, appreciative crowd. I looked at my phone, and I was already at 27K steps for the day, and thought I was too old for this shit. But Fatboy Slim is even older than me; he’s older for this shit, but he has the energy of a man half his age; I can’t say the same about myself. He mixed in his big hits with some big hits of others: Nirvana, Underworld, and The Killers all made appearances in his set. The closing “Rockafeller Skank” incorporated The Ramones among others. This man knows how to work a crowd! He’d be the only act I’d watch all weekend that didn’t have a microphone. He finished up; I felt my feet collapsing, my steps now at 33K, looked at the schedule, and decided to make a break for the shuttle bus.
Portola Aside #2: Another great thing about this festival is that they strongly encourage using transit to arrive. Multiple messages go out the week of the festival saying that there is no parking at Pier 80. Do not drive, they tell us! The helpful (and often funny) app walks you through the options in great detail. The shuttle that runs continuously from 24th and Valencia (near BART) to the festival is comfortable and doesn’t dawdle. I didn’t wait for a bus in either direction on Saturday.
Now when I woke up on Sunday, my feet didn’t hurt. A miracle! So I made plans to leave work early to get there in time for Zara Larsson‘s set. Again, there was no waiting for the shuttle. So I made it in plenty of time to see her. And boy was that a great decision! This was the show of the weekend!
Kicking off with the title track from her breakout album, Midnight Sun, we were immediately introduced to her all-girl band and six very attractive dancers who joined the also very attractive Larsson on stage. This show didn’t stop! I was significantly less familiar with her material than those around me, who sang every song like a longtime favorite. I was unfamiliar with the dolphin thing, where groups would hold up their friend to make a dolphin pose. I was caught off guard by the moment in her set when she invited up a fan to dance with her, where she brought up an extremely excited Brazilian named William who nailed the choreo so well that some discussion boards were wondering if he was a plant. No, just a talented megafan. This was a fun, colorful, and sexy show, and that is absolutely what she was going for. Another Swede succeeds!
The final Swedish act of my festival was Swedish House Mafia. I’m not sure I can classify them as dance music. Their music is basically pop. We stand around for a few minutes as they slowly build; they stop, tell us to put our “beautiful hands in the air,” drop the music for a four-count, and then blow up a bunch of shit as the beat drops. Rinse and repeat. Is this boring? Somehow, no, because the songs are actually pretty good. They do this with their own songs, collaborations they’ve done with The Weeknd, mixes of big hits by other artists (“Mr. Brightside,” “Walking on a Dream,” Levels,” etc.) and a set-ending guest appearance by yet another Swedish popstar, Lykke Li. By the time she arrived, I was all set to make my way over to the last band of the night.
The Australian electropop band Parcels are consistently entertaining. You’ll never stop moving at one of their shows; they just kick up a beat and keep it going. Do I know their songs? No, not really. Do I enjoy their shows? Absolutely! Tonight they mixed in a cover of “Nightcall” by Kavinsky (RIP), and I couldn’t have been more thrilled; I love that song! The yapping was a bit much during their set, so I moved to the back, where I basically spent the end of the festival in the most fitting way I could imagine: dancing on my own.
