My Morning Jacket @ ACL - One Hell Of A Beach Party

I'm back in California! And I've got Internet! And about 4 hours of sleep and jet lag! Let the blogging on the 2007 Austin City Limits fest begin! No pictures yet, though. I'm hoping mine turned out okay. It's my first time taking pictures at an event of this magnitude.

Wilco vs. My Morning Jacket... Wilco vs. My Morning Jacket -- a fairly matched battle (I mean, I wore my Wilco shirt home on the plane the next day) ultimately tipped by my desire to be up close for the Bob Dylan performance on Sunday night as well as the fact that one of my cousin's friends claimed that the MMJ set at Bonnaroo was better than Radiohead's. I don't care who you are, surely you cannot beat Radiohead's live show, right?

After cramming back into the crowd during Bloc Party's set at the AT&T stage (stocking up on water was mandatory and ultimately incredibly well-advised, given the claustrophobia and slowing of time that was to follow), we were in for another five hours before night's end. After Bloc Party was over, we managed to finagle "spots" about five rows back, front and center of the main stage. I use "spots" loosely, because they were more like specks... but that's the fun of festivals like this anyways, eh?

I thought My Morning Jacket just had an incredibly eccentric stage manager when a man in black wearing goggles on his head walked onstage and checked the set-up (that, or he'd been taking lessons from Mystery -- The Pickup Artist DID shoot in Austin, after all). Things got weirder, though, when several saronged men walked onstage with metal detectors. Then MMJ walk out, bedecked in water wings, fully sunscreened noses, bermuda shorts, leis, and Jim James's remarkably well-attached blonde wig (I mean, that wig musta been on tighter than Indiana Jones's legendary hat).

Yeah, it was hot down in the crowd, but all of a sudden, it didn't matter: this was all one big beach party, one end-of-summer hurrah (especially for me, since I don't start school again til next week!). The beach balls were flying, the pineapple girls were dancing, and most of all, the band was ripping through an amazing set that I didn't think could get any better... until out steps Andrew Bird accompanying the band on violin during "Gideon."

And we still had Bob Dylan to go.