when the music fills your soul....

So I ventured out to this year's Riot Fest in Humboldt Park on Saturday.  I tried and tried to get someone to go with me, yet all I could find were former young coworkers going with tons of their BFFs to watch all the young(er) bands.  So my husband dropped me off and I went, IN THE POURING RAIN, all by myself.

And I actually had an awesome time.

I got there just in time to watch Peter Hook & the Light perform a Joy Division set.  The rain was not subsiding so I pushed my way up front (which I haven't done in years!) and thoroughly enjoyed those old songs I have always loved so well.  He sounded just like Ian Curtis singing...it was really impressive.  I can never get enough of Joy Division music.  And the feelings I got when I wandered around Manchester, UK back in the days of a Mancunian boyfriend.  Someone in the audience even held up an I (heart) MCR sign.  Great start to the day....

After the set I explored the grounds a bit.  Things were already starting to become a mud pit early on.  But once a girl scout, always a girls scout.  I was equipped with my shiny black hooded raincoat, a scarf I wore like a baboushka, and my Eiffel Tower rain boots.  There was a RIOT stage, ROCK stage, ROOTS, RISE and REBEL.  Carnival rides.  Food and beverages galore.  Circus freaks.  Punks.  Hot Topic kids.  Wandering circus performers.  Steampunk wind-up dolls.  And rain.  Buckets of rain.

I headed back up front for Bob Mould.  I have always loved everything from Husker Du to Sugar and everything in between and after.  I recently picked up his autobiography and will get around to reading it one of these days.  He was awesome.  He realized into about the fourth song that he had tons more to do in a set amount of time and so he just ripped through every song, one after the other after the other without even coming up for air.  It was awesome.

I glopped my way through the mud over to see Best Coast.  (I just made up the word glopped, as that's how it felt walking through the mudpits as they got deeper and deeper with each inch of rain that accumulated.)  Caught the tail end and the boyfriend song.  Cute.  I love those guys.

My older brother finally made it in from Milwaukee and I met up with him as Rocket From the Crypt took the stage.  I hadn't thought about them since seeing them on 120 Minutes back in the nineties.  They were a powerhouse!  And absolutely hilarious.  And they wore matching ensembles.  The crowds were starting to pick up....

Chowed on some curry fries and watched the Suicidal Tendencies....wandered around for awhile observing some of the younger bands I didn't really know much about.  It was definitely an awakening at how old I felt.  Watched AFI, surrounded by kids who were at the age in which I could potentially be the same age as their parents.

I was torn on whether or not to watch the Pixies and then head over for the Replacements.  I love the Pixies, but I was really set on watching those wacky Replacements.  The Replacements!!!  We decided to move up close for the Replacements while the Pixies performed their set.  Chowed on a $12 Polish Plate and stood in a big massive crowd for about an hour.  Couldn't really hear much Pixies except for a muted Wave of Mutilation as I stood in a big long line for the port o potties.  The adoring Replacements fans were pretty intense.  People had traveled to Chicago from all over the place to see them.  They were selling $10 foam middle fingers that spotted the crowd.  The guys took the stage after 9pm and were as amazing as you could imagine them to be.  And hilarious!  Paul Westerberg went over to the guitarist and told him to fix his fucking guitar so he didn't sound like the fucking Cure!  Or something like that.  Hahaha.  So funny.  They played stuff somewhat chronologically.  Punks to melodic, catchy tunes.  Everybody sang along.  I was beaming a big old smile by the end of the night and got on the El completely covered in mud.  I had music just roaring in my head....singing all my favorite songs from so many of my favorite musicians loudly in my own head.

I played some more music on the stereo when I got home and raved on and on to my husband about how much fun I had.  I told him every little detail and how amazing everyone sounded.  I was absolutely gushing and he just quietly turned to me and said, "I guess I just don't love music in the same way that you do."  How could anyone not be as impassioned about music as I am?  I don't know...I can't find the words for it.  But it absolutely amazes, confounds, brings me such joy and resonance.  I may have been alone in that crowd but as soon as the music starts I just don't feel even the slightest glimpse of loneliness.  I LOVE MUSIC.  What can I say...

And even a few days later, it's all still swirling around my head.