Whoops. Forgot to write about my FFFF experience.

I'd never been before, but it really has found a niche being the anti-ACL: that is, not oppressively hot, smaller stages, less people, more varied acts, good weather, the "my-god-it-was-actually-fun" factor. As opposed to ACL, where large crowds dictate your movements, this was much more laid-back.

I only went Saturday, but it was worth it. First of all, the fest is in a great location, and the food was superb (though I did manage to spill my delicious $6 frito pie on my crotch--smooth move, Art. Smooth move.). I will say the sound was a tad excessive, considering everyone is within easy listening distance from every stage. It seems they had the sound on ACL levels when the park was maybe a tenth of Zilker. Still, I was impressed with the separation of sound from the three stages: I couldn't hear any unholy mash of hip-hop/dance, indie pop, and hardcore. Bonus points, FFFF.

Okkervil River are the either the tightest sloppy band, or the sloppiest tight band. They excel at pushing the limits of their sound to the point where it's veering on the edge, then manage to finish the song without a hitch. They get the award for the "angriest cover of a Beach Boys song" when they went into a rather uproarious "Sloop John B". Will Scheff don't like no drunk first mate.

If only the families that usually eat at Outback Steakhouse could actually see what the people who sing that catchy jingle look like: Denim shorts and fishnet leggings? Check. Colorful bird wings? Check. Glittery make-up? Make that a double check. The jury's still out on Of Montreal, but they do have some mean bass lines. Their cover of Prince's "Purple Rain" was spot-on, too.

The New Pornographers' set is one that I will brag to my kids about. "I got to see the entire line-up in their power-pop prime, whippersnapper." That's right, the triumvirate writers of meandering, sunny sing-alongs were all in attendance. Newman and Case harmonize so effortlessly, but it was the other Pornos's harmonies that really beefed up the sound. Bejar seemed like he didn't know where he was, but "Myriad Harbor", one of my faves of the year, got his undivided attention and it superceded the recorded version. They left me wanting to head back to Challengers and give it another spin; it's definitely better in person than on record. And boy, did they knock it out of the park with "Sing Me Spanish Techno" and "The Bleeding Heart Show". Kurt Dahle, the drummer, blasted the skins with a precision and bombast akin to Keith Moon. As much as they hate the label "supergroup", they have earned it.

Once again, Explosions in the Sky blew me away. They keep creeping up my list as one of my favorite live bands, which is odd because their lengthy, histrionic instrumentals could be boring, but they're not. They're the exact opposite. These Texans are so deft at exploring a range of emotions most other artists can't convey with words. My hat is off to them. If you haven't seen them live, do it.

Thanks FFFF. Until next year.