Vans Warped Tour

Despite the best intentions of both the organizers and the participants of the yearly tourist trap of the pseudo-punk world, the Warped Tour, music and the bands who play it have become little more than a backdrop for other, less honorable pursuits. This is not to say that the lineup for this year’s Warped Tour was any less formidable than in years past; headliners of this year’s tour included Sum 41, Rancid, the Ataris, Simple Plan, Pennywise, Glassjaw and a score of other bands with similar weight in the burgeoning punk/hardcore scene. But crushed by the sheer weight of the merchandising and propaganda circus, and stifled by the mostly indifferent throngs of teenage show-goers, the bands in attendance seemed for the most part satisified to be along for the ride and played their half-hour sets with a mellow resignation.
Traditionally, the Northern California date of the Warped Tour has been held at Boréal, the winter ski resort-turned-summer dustbowl. Needless to say, the change in venue, to the recently renamed Sleep Train Ampitheatre, was a marked improvement. However, upon entrance, one was surprised to see that the main stage was in fact being used as the band catering area, and the festival itself was taking place entirely in the periphery, including the parking lot, of the amphitheatre. This setup did have its pluses — the two main stages were situated right next to each other, thus allowing one to see most of the bigger names without much effort — but also had its minuses; namely, the sheer distance involved in moving from one end to the other. The first rule of Warped Tour has always been that there is no way humanly possible to see all the bands you want to see — there are always eight or nine or more bands playing simultaneously — and this year was certainly no exception. However, sacrificing curiosity for reliability by sticking close to the main stages proved to be somewhat gratifying. Face to Face sounded like they looked — three dudes who have been doing it for many, many years. Still minus a rhythm guitarist, the trio stuck mostly to material from their early years, much to the appreciation of the majority of the crowd. Glassjaw were perhaps the biggest surprise of the day. Their arty metal-tinged post-core sounds rather tepid on CD, but came across poignantly in the live setting. Frontman Daryl Palumbo writhed as he alternately crooned and squealed, and the band made the most of their half-hour slot.
Aside from the two main stages, other stages of various sizes and statures dotted the landscape. The Ernie Ball stage hosted The Shocker, a female-fronted outfit featuring one of the chicks from L7, who weren’t nearly as impressive as their tattoos would have you think. Various local bands, probably nephews of Sleep Train bigwigs, had outposts set up here and there, blasting their own, unimpressive strains of mall-punk to roaming squads of teenage girls. Occasionally one of the side stages would host a band of some repute, but mainly these stages merely provided a soundtrack for browsing at the variety of booths, offering everything from merch for all the bands on the tour, to info on veganism, to free samples of Easy Mac. The BMX and skating demos that once seemed to be such a big part of Warped Tour were relegated now to a lonely, shoddily constructed half-pipe that seemed mostly empty for the majority of the day. Aside from pedophilic people-watching, tours of the outer area proved to be rather fruitless.
Back at the main stage, Suicide Machines dosed the crowd with their vaguely ska-like pop-punk goodness. Slick Shoes were even more wholesome, their by-the-numbers new school matching their kid-next-door visages. Far and away, though, the set of the day belonged to Andrew W.K., the major-label party metal hooligan. Supported by a cast of bearded, mercenary musicians (including three fucking guitarists!), Andrew W.K.’s schtick — lyrics like “you better get ready to die, you better get ready to kill,” juxtaposed with’80s keyboards and metal riffs — proved somehow charming, and if nothing else, entertaining. Perhaps it’s only poetic justice that the Warped Tour, the Mecca of modern punk, was rocked hardest by perhaps the least punk act of the day. Or maybe his lack of punkness makes Andrew W.K. only that much more punk. Food for thought, at least.

– Daniel Taylor
– Photos by Alyssa Starkey

Bookmark:

Comments down for maintenance.