Recently, the hipsters of the world (or at least a majority of those in the Tri-State area) descended upon Chicago’s Union Park for the third annual Pitchfork Music Festival. The three-night, two-day concert extravaganza was a must attend for those who like their clothes made by American Apparel and their music rounded to the 1/10 decimal place. (This is, of course, a stereotype – but seriously, does AA have to advertise in every square inch of all indie music magazines and websites?)

Although I spent the majority of my weekend hawking of Montreal t-shirts and Owen LPs at the Polyvinyl merch booth, I did manage to catch a few sets from amongst a diverse lineup that featured both buzzworthy and veteran indie acts from around the globe – including underground Japanese metal, American hardcore rappers (no, not Flavor Flav) and a Serbian brass band.

Here’s the breakdown as I saw it:

1:30 PM - Saturday

Performing immediately following the morning’s heavy rain showers, lo-fi garage rocker Jay Reatard never gave the crowd a moment to towel themselves off (or take a breath) as he and his band tore through an impressive assortment of their often less-than-two-minute howlers – all of which were only separated by the briefest of pauses during which Jay yelled the name of the next offering. Although the vocals were lacking toward the beginning of the set (especially on the immensely hooky “Blood Visions” – a song that does more in 13 words than most bands can do on 13 tracks), as the band got more songs under its belt it became more satisfying to just stand back and enjoy the ride. Just when it seemed like the frenetic pace would become unsustainable, Jay strummed his last note, took off his guitar and exited while extending his middle finger to the audience.

4:00 PM - Saturday

A few hours later, Dizzee Rascal took to the other main stage in what was the antithesis to the set I just described. The English-accented rapper – who is labeled in the unofficial festival program as the British version of 50 Cent – tried somewhat successfully to whip his audience into a frenzy via all the traditional methods: swearing excessively and taking off his shirt. Being personally more familiar with his reputation than his recordings, I can only assume the set was filled mainly with his well-known songs. (After all, who flies 4000 miles to perform deep album cuts?) Although the title of his latest album (Maths + English) would seem to suggest a hint of intelligent lyrical content, from what I could understand it seemed like mostly standard fare about girls and money. However, one edge the across-the-pond grime artist does have on his American counterparts is exactly what the name of his genre implies: dirtier, rawer beats that are much more intriguing than the overproduced fluff found on most stateside rap releases.

5:00 PM - Saturday

Fittingly, the band scheduled to perform smack dab in the middle of the day was the same group that has been at the front and center of the indie world since releasing its debut album earlier this year: Vampire Weekend. As the quartet that everybody loves to hate (and others hate that they love them) took to the stage, I was hoping that by the end of the set I could finally decide which camp I was in. Even if you’ve never listened to their self-titled release (guilty!), chances are tracks like “A-Punk,” Oxford Comma” and “Walcott” would still be instantly recognizable. And indeed, the group seemed to be playing off this familiarity – accepting that pretty much everyone already has their mind made up and therefore not working too hard to convert any stragglers still remaining on the fence. While the group certainly played much of the material from its aforementioned record with a high degree of competence, the performance overall seemed to be lacking a sense of urgency. Although I did discover a new personal favorite amidst their offerings (“I Stand Corrected”), the gentlemen in Vampire Weekend didn’t seem too concerned with whether or not I became a devoted follower. I guess the music media is already working overtime on that front.

7:00 PM - Saturday

Luckily, The Hold Steady were taking no chances in this respect. Often labeled the “greatest bar band in America,” the Brooklyn-based five-piece delivered a set crackling with energy and filled with feel-good rock tunes. Despite the fact that lead vocalist Craig Finn’s half-talking, half-singing style sometimes grows tiresome to me on disc (no matter how clever his lyrics are), its not hard to stay attuned when watching the group in person. Even while weaving narratives about cryptic women (“Chips Ahoy”) and one-night flings (“Sequestered in Memphis”), the effusive frontman was always smiling and in a flurry of motion – whether it was to point at the crowd or lead them in fist-pumping and hand-clapping. By the end, I needed no prompting to give them a well-deserved round of applause.

1:00 PM - Sunday

While eating a not-too-overpriced $6 pulled pork sandwich, I sacrificed the skin on the back of my neck to watch Times New Viking take the stage under the searing afternoon sun. Like their Matador labelmates Jay Reatard, the Ohio-based trio peddles in quick, blink-and-you-miss-them bursts of sound with extremely low production value. Perhaps as a result of the breakneck speed at which the set moved (about halfway through, drummer/vocalist Adam Elliott proclaimed: “We’ve got time for 15 more”), there never seemed to be enough substance for me to latch onto. While there were certainly a few highlights, such as the heavily disguised pop sensibilities found on “My Head” (ironically introduced as “Song not about drugs #1″), the rest of the offerings dissolved into a fuzzy flurry of noise and buried vocals.

7:50 PM - Sunday

After sitting out most of the rest of the day so that my fellow co-workers could catch some of their most anticipated bands (including HEALTH, The Dodos and King Khan and the Shrines, who were phenomenally entertaining from what I’ve been told), I walked across the festival grounds to watch Bon Iver. Those already familiar with the quiet, achingly sincere nature of the songs found on Justin Vernon’s debut effort most likely sense the inherent disconnect in performing these intimate tracks in an expansive outdoor setting. And indeed, the material came across with mixed results. While the hushed, higher-pitched vocals and double drumming kept some in rapt attention, others around me just seemed to be angling for a better position to watch Australian electro-pop purveyors Cut Copy immediately afterwards.

9:00 PM - Sunday

Closing out the festival was Texas-based indie rockers Spoon – a band that has seen its profile rise with each successive album release. Unfortunately, what should have been yet another step in this ascent – headlining the final day of P4K 2008 – turned out to be a bit of a backwards tumble. Perhaps underestimating the amount of energy still left within those in attendance, the band chose to stock their set with slower cuts – including Rhythm & Soul and Don’t Make Me A Target (and other older numbers that, not being anything more than a casual listener of the group, I am not able to name). While some people did find opportunity to shake their hips to “I Turn My Camera On,” on the whole the weekend’s grand finale was a bit of a prolonged fizzle. But don’t take it only from me – even some who have seen the band in concert numerous times over the past few years felt it was the weakest show they’d seen. Oh well, even God rested on Sunday.

For those who believe the Champaign-Urbana music scene is only filled with indie rockers and folks strumming acoustic guitars – think again. Although based primarily out of Chicago, the hip-hop/jazz/rock group Treologic (pronounced: tree-oh-logic) has made waves around these parts in the past with its combination of hip-hop rhymes and real live guitars, drums and bass.

A couple of Thursdays ago the band made the trek down I-57 to perform a free show at Cowboy Monkey in support of its soon-to-be-released third full-length Colabo – a gig that also doubled as a reunion of sorts for a town and band that hadn’t seen each other for over six months.

Sounding more like the pairing of Run-D.M.C. and Aerosmith than any of the countless imitators that have tried to blend rock and rap in the years since “Walk This Way,” Treologic shared tracks from its brand spankin’ new record (their first in three years) and showcased the kind of funky-fresh beats and socially conscious lyrics fans should already be familiar with from the group’s earlier efforts.

With dreadlocks flowing out of a straight-billed Chicago Cubs hat, vocalist MC Billa Camp was continually engaging and entertaining – particularly when waving a white towel around his head as he unleashed streams of rapid-fire lines of poetry while Champaign’s own Conner Grant ably accepted the challenge of keeping up with the rhythm on his electric guitar.

In addition to the slew of original songs Treologic played during the two-hour time slot, the band also injected an aura of spontaneity into their performance via its affinity for borrowing the beat from well-known rap songs (by The Sugarhill Gang, Beastie Boys, Kanye West and others) and coupling the familiar choruses of “Stronger” and “Jesus Walks” with freestyle verses.

This framework also afforded the sextet the chance to share the spotlight with Krukid (voted Chambana’s best Hip-Hop Act two year running), a talented emcee in his own right who was brought on stage at various times throughout the night to release his own off-the-cuff rhymes upon the small group of people dancing in front of the stage.

Although the set began to drag at about the time the clock neared 1 AM and the MC Billa Camp took time out to give each of the five other instrument-wielding members a chance to solo (none of which were particularly riveting), Treologic redeemed itself by calling Krukid up to the platform once more to participate in a final freestyle centered around the beat and chorus from Biz Markie’s 80s classic “Just A Friend” – a moment that combined old-school and new-school and gave the crowd a chance to tell Treologic: “You got what I need!”

Earlier this month, three friends and I made the trek to Riverport/UMB Bank Pavailion/ Verizon Wireless Ampitheater/[insert corporate conglomerate here] to take part in this year’s installment of the traveling punk-rock summer camp.

Although others will undoubtedly disagree, in my opinion Warped Tour is the best concert deal going today.

Here’s the breakdown:

Pitchfork - $65/40 bands = $1.63/band
Lollapalooza - $190/123 bands = $1.54/band
Pygmalion - $50/63 bands = $0.79/band
Warped - $37/67 bands = $0.55/band

Now, obviously, all of these are phenomenal deals – especially Pygmalion once you add in travel and hotel costs to the other events. And I know there’s a lot I haven’t taken into consideration with this argument, such as the quality of the music, but on the basis of price alone Warped is the clear winner. And I even spotted the other festivals the $6 Ticketmaster convenience charge.

But I digress.

This being my fourth consecutive year in attendance, I wasn’t expecting too many surprises and didn’t really get many – except for one particularly intense incident which took place at the tail end of the day. So stay tuned for details on that.

For the most part, the big pieces of the puzzle remained the same: the six stages were all in the same locations, water was still $4/bottle and goth kids still mingled somewhat peacefully with their more emo counterparts.

However, there were a few subtle differences that soon became apparent. For one, charity and activist organizations (such as PETA, Action For Animals, To Write Love On Her Arms, etc…) assumed a much larger role in the event than in years past – enough so to command an entire section of the venue grounds with their tents. And if I was asked once to register to vote by Obama supporters, I was asked 20 times.

Also, the number of freebies I was able to commandeer dropped considerably from previous trips. In these tough times for the music industry, posters and stickers were at a premium. Well, I guess they were usually only a dollar (or free with a merch purchase). But still. Even free label samplers were hard to come by. In years past I could always count on coming home with a stack of new tunes from Fueled By Ramen, Equal Vision, Fearless, Vagrant and so on, but on this afternoon only an Epitaph compilation found its way into my hands .

Nevertheless, I did come away with some digital download cards (for anyone interested in hearing some up-and-coming pop-punk acts, head to theSoundsofSummer.com for a great assortment of free songs), a MySpace bandana (cooler than you might think) and some unique memories.

The tour swings through Tinley Park on Saturday, August 2nd, so if all three days of Lollapalooza won’t fit into your budget, Warped is a cheap(er) alternative to consider.

A slice of the highlights:

• Every Time I Die frontman Keith Buckley throwing a stuffed unicorn (that the band had won the night before at Six Flags) into the crowd and demanding the head be returned to him by the end of the song

• Paramore, on their first day on the tour, drawing the largest crowd of any band despite having a supersized photo of a horse licking a man’s head propped up in front of their drummer

• The Academy Is… (my favorite band) getting to play an extra ten minutes thanks to an online fan vote, a set which included two uber-catchy new songs: Forever Young and About A Girl

• My friend telling me that he had seen the police officer walking ahead of us browsing through the merchandise at The Bronx tent, a conversation which the cop overheard and replied, “Hey, we’re just normal people, too.” Uh, have you seen the cover of their debut album?

• Indie hip-hop group Gym Class Heroes performing a cover of Lamb of God’s “Laid To Rest,” complete with lead singer Travis McCoy on a wireless Guitar Hero controller

• Of course, the headline-making moment of the day also belongs to McCoy, who, after being called an “ignorant n****r” by a member of the crowd, invited the offender (who was also black) on stage and hit him on the head with his microphone (thereby breaking it) just as the man reached the barricade. McCoy then pulled him up by his hair and punched him repeatedly until security broke the two apart and dragged the other guy away.

After gathering himself, McCoy attempted to break the tension with his statement, “I guess ignorance is bliss” and apologized to the audience before continuing the set. As the 30 minute time limit neared, a crew member off stage held up a stage that read “1 more song. Cops.” and after the show McCoy was arrested, charged with third degree assault and released on bail the following morning.

Talk about a live show packing a punch! Ok, I’m done.

Bands I saw: Relient K, Broadway Calls, Mayday Parade, The Maine, Every Time I Die, Jack’s Mannequin, The Academy Is…, Story Of The Year, Against Me!, Set Your Goals, Paramore, Say Anything and Gym Class Heroes

Bands I would’ve like to see: Jet Lag Gemini, Cobra Starship, The Color Fred, We The Kings, A Day To Remember, Anberlin, Forever The Sickest Kids, The Secret Handshake, Angels And Airwaves, We Shot The Moon, 1997, You Me And Everyone We Know, Valencia, Farewell, and the Audition

Once en route to a concert, I have never been deterred from actually making it to the show. However, on this particular night, my streak found itself in serious jeopardy of being broken as I cut across the quad on the way to Canopy Club and stumbled upon an outdoor showing of what is unquestionably one of the greatest movies ever filmed: Back to the Future.

Although my heart begged my feet to stay and watch, my mind eventually won out and I proceeded on my way to watch student group Underpaid Packy, along with two acts I was unfamiliar with: The Skalalitabs and Ladymoon. (Besides, I knew I could just watch the Michael J. Fox classic on tape when I got back home. Yes, I do in fact own the movie on VHS.)

Kicking off the intimate Void Room show was The Skalalitabs, a group of University of Illinois students from Downers Grove. Although the sight of three of the six band members standing up on stage with trumpets and a saxophone in hand initially made me a little leery, my fears soon subsided when I discovered that the group was pretty much everything a ska band should be: a fun-loving bunch who see it as a sin to take themselves too seriously.

Beginning with their instrumental intro (50 Cent’s “In Da Club”) and continuing through tongue-in-cheek originals about bowling (“7/10 Split”), wooden walkways (“Gangplank”) and breakfast food (“The Waffle Song”), The Skalatitabs turned in an entertaining – if a bit overlong – set that was also peppered with a copious number of cover songs (including tunes from Catch-22, Less Than Jake, The Toasters and the ubiquitous Todd Rundgren ode to wanting to do nothing but hit the skins, “Bang The Drum All Day”).

Clearly still in the process of getting their feet underneath them while struggling to put together a permanent line-up (as evidenced when the lead singer was introducing everyone and forgot the saxophonist’s name), The Skalatitabs have the potential to become a fun frat-party band over the next year. And, as an English major, I have to appreciate the wordplay inherent in their name – which is apparently a pun in Arabic (visit their Myspace for a complete explanation).

Afterwards, not wanting to sit around in the interim, I ducked out to catch what I could of Back to the Future before the next act took to the stage. Luckily, the timing was fantastic and I got to see the film’s most iconic scene: Marty McFly performing “Johnny B. Goode” at his parents’ high school dance. However, because I got caught up in the action for longer than I anticipated, I only managed to make it back to Canopy in time for half of the set from an Indianapolis, IN jam band.

Although I’ve never really understood the appeal of watching people play their instruments without vocals for an extended period of time (no matter how skilled they may be), the three members of Ladymoon entranced the crowd with their epic solos and overall music prowess. While a few interesting tricks, twists and rhythms here and there captured my attention, I was perhaps most impressed by the fact that bassist Kris Potts managed to pull off his endurance plucking with a broken thumb (the result of a Wii mishap the night before). In sum (to paraphrase a line from Flight of the Conchords), they’re good at what they do, if what they do is what you’re into.

At long last, nearly two-and-a-half hours after the scheduled start time, Underpaid Packy took to the platform. As evidenced by the fair amount of people who were squeezed into the room’s tiny space, the five piece band – which was named Student Band of the Year at the Local Music Awards and currently enjoys a twice-a-month residency at Canopy Club – seems to be building up quite a buzz in town, no easy feat in the relatively dead summer months. On top of all this, the quintet was still celebrating the release of its debut album, Tales From A Fifth Street Roof, being sold at a small merch table for the slightly outrageous price of $10 (which was also highly ironic for a band named Underpaid Packy).

Having only heard the jam band-sounding track “Masterpiece” on WPGU, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the group and ended up being a bit surprised by the schizophrenic mix of genres it served up from track to track. From a slow jamz/blues number to the 311-esque “Don’t Do It” to a couple of more danceable rock tunes (all flowing with an undercurrent of jazz), Underpaid Packy fused together a diverse variety of sounds that seemed mainly to avoid pigeonholing rather than promote proficiency in any one area. Although the somewhat sizeable audience seemed to be having a good time no matter what type of music was being thrown their way, I found much of the material to be hit or miss – sometimes melodic and grooving, at other moments stagnant and monotonous.

At one point, though, the band did manage to bring a smile to my face with its unexpected cover of the Huey Lewis and the News lite rock radio staple “If This Is It” – a totally appropriate choice in light of the night’s Back to the Future overtones.