Paul McCartney: more than three hours! new stuff still sucks. great selection of old songs. 'Blackbird' live? plus, tears in his eyes as he sang 'my love' ... eleven years to the day after Linda's death.
Para One: excellent dance music.
Surkin: excellent dance music.
Spearhead: in the sun on the mainstage at 5pm; great vibe, fun time.
TRV$DJ-AM: wow. I wish I'd heard more.
Crookers: excellent hip-hop.
Chemical Brothers: meh. I would have wandered off in boredom if I hadn't hooked up with these kids who were rolling and started playing with them. I was sober; two of them were convinced I was rolling with them. It was awesome; contact highs are incredible, and it's great to be able to be touchy-feely with strangers and be confident that they're loving every minute of it. [two of the dudes in the group ran into me the next day and were happy to see me and gave me hugs, which meant that they ended up making my evening both nights.]
MSTRKRFT: not bad.
Lupe Fiasco: uh ... it's a terrible thing when teh crowd eight rows from the front of the mainstage has to shout 'turn it up' because they can't hear any of your first song. it's also pretty bad to just walk off stage because you're pissed off that the crowd isn't reacting and getting energetic when it's 100 degrees in the shade. i'd chalk this up to a bad day, but i've now seen Lupe twice and thought it sucked both times, so it's turning into a pattern.
K'Naan: holy. shit. reggae-rapper from Mogadishu; quite possibly the best thing since sliced bread.
Paul Weller: I don't remember. I don't remember much of Sunday afternoon. Too tired and hungry and hot.
My Bloody Valentine: meh.
Groove Armada: much better than I expected.
Etienne de Crecy: good, but not great. The cube was mesmerizing.
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