Special Pitchfork Music Festival Contributor

Alabama’s G-Side brought the energy back with their lyrics that name-check current cultural phenomenon, from blogs to 4Loko and YouTube, to name checking Devo and sampling groups such as Beach House (“How Far”) in their quick-witted raps. Oftentimes hip-hop shows can fall short in a live setting (i.e. a couple of guys walking in circles around a stage rapping over some beats), but ST 2 Lettaz and Yung Clova displayed a chemistry and enthusiasm superceding the usual formulas. The addition of two backup singers, who often hit gospel tones and a guest appearance from sister “Sludge” and it was one of the most engaging sets of the fest thus far. And while they’re funny (“There are two kinda people in the world, those who are relaxing and those that are getting relaxed on. If your girl come up missing later on, you’re getting relaxed on” was the introduction to a song about them stealing your girl). But while they didn’t take themselves overly seriously they were also thoughtful, examining the lure of fame, pitfalls and all, and social equality to boot among some swift and intelligent rhymes.

The next three acts I caught were seemingly more indicative of what Saturday’s shows held, and that was of a sleepier, albeit good, variety. It seemed the fest waned on the oomph in the late Saturday afternoon. Save for No Age and OFF!, there was a string of gentle indie rock that was pretty as well as lethargic.

Wild Nothing ushered the first wave of chilled out moments. Their sparkling synth-driven set featured some intricate melodies and blissed-out moments perhaps fitting for the midday heat, but it brought the energy felt from G-Side’s set to a quiet halt.

Destroyer, at the main Red Stage, rivaled the chill effect that Wild Nothing brought on across the field at the Blue stage. It would’ve seemed more appropriate to have OFF!, who played the Blue stage, with its frenetic punked-up deliveries front-and-center, but instead it was Dan Bejar’s poetic, jazzy set that got the bigger billing. No matter, the sultry sax on the summer-breezy “Blue Eyes” along with Bejar’s laidback delivery might’ve been just what those trying to beat the heat in the middle of the field might’ve needed. Bejar remained coolly detached, with little audience interaction.

For the relaxed trifecta, Radio Dept. delivered in spades, with songs that swelled and receded with the waning sun. The Swedes’ sweet and subdued set included the lush “The Worst Taste in Music” and the tad more buoyant “Heaven’s on Fire.”