Featuring 90s icons Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, and The Cure, the artist roster for this year’s Voodoo Music + Arts Experience read like a list of every musician I ever had a crush on in high school. Of course, Voodoo always offers a great deal beyond its headliners – a Halloween weekend tradition established in 1999, Voodoo Fest has since expanded to cover four stages and showcase over a hundred food, art, and merchandise vendors – but I went in fully expecting to devote all three nights to pure nostalgia.
Despite a few gems (including bluesy powerhouse ZZ Ward, energetic indie pop darlings/adorable Muppet look-a-likes Youngblood Hawke, and the husband/wife duo Shovels and Rope), Friday’s early musical offerings weren’t tremendously compelling, and initial fest attendance was low. Fortunately, soon after New Orleans favorites The Preservation Hall Jazz Band took the main stage at 6:05 PM, I was joined by the usual throng of drunk, happy, and outrageously outfitted Voodoo spectators. By the time hip-hop duo Macklemore & Ryan Lewis (and guests – including singer-songwriter Mary Lambert and local legend Trombone Shorty) had completed their short but energetic set, the area in front of the “Le Ritual” stage was packed. The field practically thrummed with excitement, and I soon learned why – Pearl Jam’s performance was one of the best I have ever experienced. The immaculately chosen set list – compiled by former Saint and current Pearl Jam friend and super-fan Steve Gleason – was a faultless mix of old classics and strong new material, and it gave Vedder a perfect opportunity to demonstrate his incredible energy, charisma, and (remarkably unchanged) voice. By the time I left that night, my initial impressions had been entirely washed away – Voodoo Fest was on, and it was going to be a good one.
Saturday got off to a much more promising start. Though it was officially November 2nd, Halloween was back in full swing. Costumes ranged from the creative to the confusing to the outright provocative, and I encountered everyone from head-banging Santa Claus to Rock ‘n Roll Jesus. I also met a representative of Voodoo’s Non-Profit sponsor The Gulf Restoration Network; their booth offered educational exhibits, informational pamphlets, and a “Facebook Photo Booth” complete with pithy signs urging friends and followers to help save the Gulf of Mexico. I made it through the vibrant merchant area just in time to miss seeing Cults. The next act, The Gaslight Anthem, produced live music that sounded just as good as their studio work – unfortunately, their unimaginative performance did little to convince me that there was any relevant difference between watching them live and listening to their album from the comfort of my couch. Tennessee-based band Paramore made for a truly astonishing contrast – they played with a manic but pitch-perfect sense of urgency, and lead singer Hayley Williams was a tiny redheaded ball of pure, hard-rocking static electricity. Though I’m confident that Paramore gained quite a few new fans – I caught more than one large, tattooed, and slightly abashed NIN-shirted man mumbling along to “The Only Exception,” Williams herself closed their set by gleefully acknowledging the elephant in the room: “You came to see Nine Inch Nails – but for the last hour, you’ve been at a Paramore show!” Once the long anticipated Trent Reznor of NIN finally took the stage, there was a brief, suspenseful hush – this was immediately crushed by an onslaught of driving beats and flashing lights. At times – especially when Reznor launched into an old fan favorite – hundreds of stomping feet and slamming bodies transformed the field from a concert venue into a creatively lit seismic event.
One of Sunday’s most pleasant surprises was the enormous turn out for indie musicians Matt & Kim, self proclaimed, “partners in music and partners in sex.” After recently building up a sizable buzz performing in smaller local venues, the field in front of Le Ritual was packed with exuberant fans. Within minutes, Matt Johnson and Kim Schifino had distributed hundreds of balloons, solicited dozens of tossed thongs (five of which Kim merrily pulled on over her hot pink leopard pants), and challenged their spectators to crowd surf into the restricted VIP area. Comparatively speaking, Kid Rock’s “devil without a cause” posturing felt a little stale, but he still surprised the crowd by jumping, dancing (“I can do this Justin Beiber shit, too”), and then giving an oddly touching performance while standing on a piano in front of a gigantic American Flag. Finally, show closers The Cure took the stage. The passing of time left Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam more or less untouched. Time left Trent Reznor with a few interesting wrinkles and lines – the kind that are often described as giving a face “character.” Time was nowhere near as kind to Robert Smith of the Cure – in fact, it was outright cruel – but his voice was exactly as it has always been. By the time Smith closed the show with jaunty favorite “Love Cats,” the field was full of exuberant black clad, eye-linered Cure fans giggling and do-si-doing with each other.
At Voodoo Fest 2013, I learned that it’s possible for a pop-rock princess to mature into a formidable rocker. I saw a lot of great costumes, I ate way too much crawfish bread, and I forgot to buy a t-shirt. I missed half the bands I’d planned on seeing – including the much anticipated Dr. John and the Real Night Trippers – but I also made a fantastic discovery: not only can the heroes of my teen years still hit all the classic notes – they proved themselves every bit as powerful and relevant as they were twenty years ago. All in all, the 15th annual Voodoo Music + Arts Experience was everything it should have been – a big, bright, eclectic jumble of sounds and colors in a city that wouldn’t take its festivals any other way.
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