Northside Festival Stays Local, In A Good Way
With a mix of apprehension and anticipation, I exited the L train on the opening night of the Northside festival in Williamsburg. There was no flood, more like a couple banners. I picked up my badge, looking forward to my unnecessary but always surprising gifts in the second greatest advantage of a festival badge, but the almighty schwag bag contained little more than some tea.
The first night was tame. Music Hall of Williamsburg was on the full-side when Thao and Mirah with The Most Of All (pictured) brought their powerful collaboration to the stage, peppering already solid repertoires with clean harmonies and strong stage presence.
During the daytime children seemed to be a majority of the street dwellers which should have elicited a collective eye-roll running down Bedford Avenue ala The Wave. People seemed to dig it though; it gave a real family atmosphere, not typical of a music festival. This could have been because Saturday afternoon, the expected peak of the festival, was overshadowed by the U.S.'s unfortunately last game in the World Cup. The streets were full of vendors, but the vendees were glued to screens inside open-armed bars like Spike Hill. Watching people try to pack themselves in there was like watching someone try to stick extra popcorn in their mouth, you just sensed catastrophe.
When the sun fell, it began to feel like another average night on the Bedford strip, the usual carnivalesque vibe, chic-ified with the stereotype of Williamsburg; either frilly messes straight out of costume shops or ripped up, fuck-it attire.
Although things seemed quiet, they were far from it. If you strayed a bit from the main drag toward holes on Wythe and Berry, names that might take a minute to remember were making themselves known. Groups like Grandchildren who took the Berry Park stage blew the minds of the small patch of audience, exploding off the stage in resonant technicolor, patching organic brass-and stringed instruments with the crunchy, scribbling sound waves of electronic aid.
Although from the lobby the brand new IndieScreen theatre on Kent Avenue and South 2nd Street appeared to be empty, but inside the bite-sized theater the seats were all filled with bodies, goosebumped by the mighty hand of AC and captivating films like Todd Solondz's “Life During Wartime” (trailer below).
On Sunday, I decided to make my way to the supposed mainstage of the festival. I waited in line for the School Bus running back and forth between Driggs Avenue and the stage at Newtown Barge Park, and arrived to a sparse sea of seated souls, pinned to the cement by gravity and humidity, not really sure which pull was stronger that day. The weather's trance complimented the atmosphere created by A.A. Bondy's moanful vocals and brooding instrumentation. Bondy peppered his in-between-song moments with odd commentary, leaving the crowd half amused, half confused, mostly sweaty. Elvis Perkins in Dearland followed, pulling the audience from their heat comas with all his bells-and-whistles, jaunting around the stage with full-band harmonies, not taking away from his potently poetic verses.
One thing that absolutely must be noted about the overall festival is L Magazine's level of Commitment. I was impressed to see the mag's actual employees hands-on approach to the weekend; working the doors and information booths on the streets and running between venues to make sure things were as smooth as possible.
As for next year? Will Northside blossom into the kind of event where people are already discussing the line-up months in advance, and road-trip to Brooklyn for? Perhaps from Queens. However, growth and festival domination doesn't seem to be L Magazine's intention either. It seems like it'll be kept as a weekend where Brooklyn-stage frequenters get the chance to be celebrated, and Brooklynites just get the chance to celebrate. All-in-all, a pleasant, low-key festival, of which we could use more.
