The Music of The Great GoogaMooga: Day 2

Sunday

Blessed with yet another day of perfect weather, I arrived at just in time to hear the last song from local band Lucius. Though I unfortunately missed most of the performance, the song I did catch intrigued me enough to follow up when I got home. After discovering their eponymous EP on Spotify, I’m glad I did. The voices of vocalists Holly Laessig and Jess Wolfe intertwine to create gorgeous sounds varying from melodic croons to absolutely heart-wrenching wails. Another band I was pleased to discover was UK rockers We Barbarians, whose high energy, straight alternative rock was beautiful and memorable, including an outstanding cover of David Byrne & Brian Eno’s “Strange Overtones.”

It was shortly thereafter that a band that “traveled 2,000 light years just to see us smile” arrived on the Hamaggedon stage. And so began my favorite part of the Sunday music lineup in the form of the brightly colored “Japanese comic action punk” band Peelander-Z. With songs like “Ninja High Schooool” (whose only lyrics were “ninja high schooool!”), “Ice Cream!” (whose only lyrics were “ice cream!”) and ”E-I-E-I-O” (whose only lyrics were “E-I-E-I-O!”), they put on an incredibly entertaining performance to a totally rapt crowd of listeners. They taught us through signs and song how to order our steaks medium rare. Their bassist played on top of the port-o-potties and then jumped off to run through the crowd. Had this band been anything but Japanese, it would have been laughable. Because they were Japanese, it was hysterical.

With no small pressure to perform, the legendary Lez Zeppelin followed. Sexy, skimpy and skilled, this all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band rocked their way through a 45 minute set of classics. While vocalist Shannon Conley had no problem belting out the vocals of Robert Plant (who, truth be told, sang like a woman), the rest of the band had a hard time nailing their responsibilities. Drummer Leesa Squyres botched one of the most iconic drum intros in rock and roll when she she kicked off “Rock and Roll,” and guitarist Steph Paynes played a rhythmically simplified intro to “Over the Hills and Far Away,” presumably because she either couldn’t handle the specific timing or she simply messed up. It’s no small feat to cover a band of musicians who were arguably the best of all time in their individual disciplines, but a tribute band has no other responsibility but to entertain audiences with faithful renditions of their favorite songs. In that respect, Lez Zeppelin could have done better.

As a weekend of googaing and moogaing drew to a close, the crowd headed to the main stage to cross off an item on everyone’s bucket list: Hear live. In my excitement before the show, I had done some research on the band I remember hearing so often as a child and was floored by how many classics they had actually recorded. It goes on and on, and just when you think you’ve thought of them all, you realize damn, they played that as well. So when the band arrived on stage promptly at 6 o’clock, I was excited to hear an evening of hits.

The show started strong with “Maneater,” a song that actually scared me as a kid who didn’t understand the metaphor and actually thought they were singing about a woman who ate men. Like, as a meal. This was followed by a handful of lesser known songs, giving the crowd anxiety that they might be touring to promote some new album and that would be all we heard tonight, until the classics started rolling in again. “Out of Touch.” “She’s Gone.” “Sara Smile.” The most bizarre part of the performance came when “I Can’t Go For That” turned into a weird ten minute jam that was more or less jamless.

After leaving the stage, they returned to applause for an encore performance of “Rich Girl” and “You Make My Dreams Come True.” Daryl Hall, his voice still strong after all these years, carried the songs ably with his band, leaving unanswered the question that has plagued mankind since the beginning of time: What is the point of John Oates? As a boy in the 1980s, I always remember him being pictured with a guitar in hand. Yet during the show, all of the guitar solos were played by band member Paul Pesco. And what exactly was he getting at, taking the stage clean-shaven before a crowd of hipsters who would literally kill to have his trademark mustache? In my opinion, this went beyond poor form. It was downright disrespectful. Better Oates should have given the crowd the finger and walked off stage. At least we wouldn’t have had to bear the insult for an hour and a half.

After Hall thanked us again and said goodnight, the crowd began to dissipate before realizing that the band had come back for a second encore that was kind of unasked for. It worked out for the best, though, as I know a few people who would have gone homicidal had they not heard “Private Eyes,” which they segued into after “Kiss On My List.” And thus did Hall & Oates deliver the majority of their singles, with the notable exception of “One on One,” before a crowd of thousands and bring the inaugural Great GoogaMooga to a close.

Response in the aftermath of the festival has been mixed, with mostly positive reviews peppered with complainers who can’t seem to get past the logistical errors encountered on Saturday. In my opinion, these people should focus instead on the beautiful weather we enjoyed, the positive energy of the crowd, and the fact that for two days in May, Brooklyn was treated—completely free of charge—to a refreshingly non-commercial celebration of community, cuisine, and great music.