Although the once-a-year hipster-fest All Tomorrow's Parties ended on Sunday, videos from our correspondent to the event, Boston music writer Barry Thompson, are still trickling in. Above is Iggy and The Stooges playing "I Wanna be your Dog." Below, a few more live-video treats.
Just in case you missed something from our full-court-press coverage of the festival, here's a round-up of all everything ATP we published this week:
Barry Thompson, a Boston-based music writer, has been filingdispatches from the music festival All Tomorrow's Parties throughout the weekend. Above, the band whose name the New York Times refuses to print plays "Twice Born." (Warning: We printed it, and several other expletives, below. Seeing as we're not the New York Times.)
I probably shouldn’t have likened Liberty to a shantytown a while back -- no Depression-era slums would have a Taco Bell, a Subway, and a Burger King conveniently located on the main drag. Nor would there be a coffee shop called “The Zombean,” which is totally where I would’ve had breakfast yesterday, except that it doesn’t open until noon. Is this not a questionable business practice? Don’t people usually buy lots of coffee in the morning? Read more
It’s kind of hard to report on how locals deal with all the kooky rock ‘n roller ATP people if I keep leaving my motel at 1 p.m. and vacating Kutsher's at 2 a.m. The people who booked a room at Kutsher's itself could conceivably spend their entire three days here without leaving the premises. The main bit of local color I picked up on Saturday is that Kutsher’s internet capacity can’t handle 200 people all trying to check their Facebooks at once.
With notable exceptions, Saturday’s acts mostly fell under the modern/experimental umbrella, which is a very wide umbrella, and comes in handy should it ever happen to rain boredom instead of water. Read more
For music and pop-culture geeks of a certain persuasion, it's the high point of the year, a Cupid's arrow aimed straight at the heart of a small but ecstatically devoted demographic. And even if you're not, say, an experimental-synth-folk fetishist, we defy you not to enjoy the surreal experience of rubbing elbows with half the bands ever recorded by Steve Albini in the resort that inspired "Dirty Dancing." ATP is to moldering Borscht Belt grandeur as Woodstock is to mud. Read more
