Strummer sports the latest in color coordinated headgear.
Bjork-tastic rags, mama!
ACL promotes itself as a family friendly event with kids under ten getting in free. They also have a kiddie stage titled "Austin Kiddie Limits".
I lacquered my child in SPF 50 Sunscreen and took him to ACL Saturday morning (before things got too busy or warm) to see our friend Langhorne Slim. What a way to kick off day two! Every time I see LS he just gets better and better and not even some nasty upright bass feedback could ruin his high-energy, super tight performance.
After his set, the grounds were filling up and the temperature was hitting the ninties, so I rang for daddy to come retrieve our child I set out for some grownup fun. Not that I would have had to send him home to do it, because at ACL there are no security guarded beer gardens. You can get your reasonably priced beer or even a bottle of wine. That's right uptight Seattlites, a whole bottle of wine for $24 at a festival!
This is the same policy I noticed at events in NYC, and being treated like an adult responsible for your public alcohol consumption is lovely indeed.
Once you finished your sport bottle 'o wine, you're reminded you to:
and after the wine you may have a hankering to ride the Jackalope!
We then headed over to catch the rest of Fleet Foxes set, before making our back to the press area suffering the beginnings of a nasty sunburn on my chest. Having spent the summer in Seattle, the girls didn't get much sun and even slathered in sunscreen they managed to turn candy apple red within two hours. Ouch.
Next up was CSS and their front woman, the LOVEFOXXX, who won mega props from me due to her ability to rock both the crowd and a spandex unitard in crazy hot weather.
We rounded out the evening with a smattering of other bands, John Fogerty's greatest hits, and a few tunes from the Black Keys. We ended our night hometown hero style, with one of rock 'n roll's most recognizable voices, Roky Erickson.
My only regret of the day, besides not covering up my jugs, was missing the shot of an advertising plane hired by the "gentleman's club", The Yellow Rose. I'm not sure if the club paid for the banner or if the ladies themselves threw in the cash from a night's worth of dances for some fly-by self-promotion. But to be sure, between the festival and the UT home game that weekend, mine weren't the boobies suffering from overexposure that night.