On a moist Saturday morning in Downtown San Diego, as Lululemon-ed pedestrians and twenty-somethings with their canines sip espresso and bustle about the weekend Farmers’ Market, a distant thumping cuts by the salty air. Just three blocks West of the buzzing streets of Downtown, merch tents exchange brunch spots, and the inaugural Bleached Festival conducts sound checks as they gear up for two days filled with over 30 exhibits.
Organized by FNGRS CRSSD and indie-pop curator Tight Knit, Bleached Festival took over San Diego’s grassy Waterfront Park this weekend, for a new competition showcasing the upcoming expertise in the various area. It was the competition’s first yr, however you wouldn’t realize it. With impeccable design, the competition’s structure felt intuitive and laid-back — designed for seated listening somewhat than for a dusty rave in unforgiving warmth.
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Kicking off Saturday, Sam Austins sauntered onstage in an untucked white button down and a thin black tie. Heavy distortion and thick reverb invaded the sun-soaked subject, an ominous beginning word to remind us that this is not your common sunflower-crowns and cartwheel-filled indie-pop fest.
As the Detroit-born singer-songwriter screamed in a gravelly roar, “Baby I’m in love!” from his monitor “Pretend Friend,” industrial noise dissipated into surfy alt-rock. His forceful vocals and off-kilter combination of indie-rock and rap pulled a pair teams from shaded picnic blankets over to the stage and onto their ft for some dancing.
Many of Austins’ songs begin in a single place and finish someplace completely completely different, exploding into completely different genres and sounds. They’re sudden and quirky, an intoxicating mixture of breezy indie-pop and ‘70s industrial grunge. From tracks of his new psych-rock EP, Boy Toy, to music that hasn’t but been launched, Austins carried out a compelling vary.
When a haunting and bluesy model of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” echoed from the major stage, like a rustic music mating name, competition goers have been magnetized to its envoy. There, in an all-white denim two piece with embroidered flowers and acoustic guitar, stood Lily Meola, the 30-year-old singer-songwriter from Hawaii, accompanied by a strong crew of ladies musicians. Rising to fame after her stirring efficiency on Season 17 of “America’s Got Talent,” Meola is now churning out music and has even gotten the stamp of approval from outlaw nation icon Willie Nelson.
Playing her viral track, “Daydream,” the crowd echoed word-for-word, “Darlin’, don’t quit your daydream.” When the iconic laid-back drums and sliding guitar for Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” minimize in, the crowd started to double in dimension, as ladies in frayed shorts and peasant tops have been known as to the mothership.
“Ready for a change of pace?” known as out Riovaz, the 19-year-old New Jersey hitmaker who has just lately coined a new style he’s calling “Riorave.” In saggy light-wash denims, a black tee, and black body glasses, Riovaz appeared like your common teenager who would possibly make music in his closet or pen songs on the again of his pocket book. But on stage, the school-aged singer-songwriter embodied the power of a seasoned rock star. “I want everyone shaking their ass!” he screamed into the crowd, as he sprinted throughout the stage, thrashing his head, climbing his knees, and whipping his fists.
It was 3 p.m. and the solar was sturdy, beating down on those that opted to face in entrance of the stage and never search shelter underneath faraway tents. The crowd was responsive, however nonetheless settling in, cracking their first beers of the day.
Aware of the power deficit, Riovaz hit the stage like he was fired out of a cannon, conducting the crowd with intense function and intention. “I know it’s an indie festival,” Riovaz mentioned, laughing, “but let’s mosh!” Under Riovaz’s strict route, a dusty circle opened up, and with pumping firsts and banging heads, mentioned mosh pit respectfully ensued.
On the different aspect of the competition, Baltimore-raised, LA-based Baird was about to start. Right earlier than his set, you may hear warm-up chants and playful singalongs from Baird and his touring members: two drummers, a keyboardist, and rhythm guitar participant. On stage, Baird and the crew slipped on inexperienced serpent head-covers as they tore into “Chameleons,” the lead single off Baird’s 2023 MOONSHOTS album with The South Hill Experiment and Goldwash.
When you see Baird stay, it’s surprising to study that he writes each instrument’s half. Blurring the strains of a jazzy stay band set and digital manufacturing, the multi-instrumentalist shined on stage. His consideration to element, musical curiosity, and distinct aptitude for developing strong, but offbeat tracks was evident along with his efficiency.
On Sunday afternoon, as BADBADNOTGOOD settled into their spots, tinkering with tools, and plucking on strings, the crowd’s hustled migration path into the pounding solar for their set was exceptional. The Toronto four-piece have grow to be competition titans over the final decade as the jazz-meets-hip-hop crew turned identified for their spectacular stay performances and for being the go-to home band for celeb occasions.
The meandering, but refined set, with percussion that you may really feel in your chest, gave every artist their due time. The tracks moved like wind, selecting up scattered items and pulling them into their orbit, exploding and diffusing into sultry jazz interludes the place every part slowed down into the single word of the sax. Their roaming set crescendoed with their seventh track, “Lavender,” their widespread funk collaboration with Kaytranada, which despatched the crowd right into a feverish delight. The eerie and satisfying manufacturing and sinister basslines was one in every of the greatest sounds of the two-day competition.
When Caroline Polachek pranced on stage, a way of calm washed over the viewers. In an all-white desert stylish outfit with space-age white boots and a bleached halo stripe round her head, Polachek appeared like she was beamed in from Star Wars’ planet of Tatooine. With one singular, penetrating vocal, like a flare gun into the cloudless sky, “Welcome To My Island” enraptured the crowd as the monitor seesawed between digital indie-pop bridges and explosive siren choruses.
With minimalist, repetitive dance choreography that was someway oddly fascinating, Polachek moved seamlessly on stage, like a desert tumbleweed. A breezy mix of digital instrumentation and soulful folks ballads (with one Spanish flamenco-influenced track “Sunset”) Polachek’s avant-garde method to indie-pop felt recent and weightless.
British indie-rockers Lovejoy took over the stage as the solar is setting. Reminiscent of The Strokes and The Kooks, the band from Brighton, England was a essential rock reprieve. Playing with forceful guitar riffs, pulling out and in of the heaviness of their music, the alt-rock band’s songs crashed over the crowd like rolling waves, their depth swelling and retracting like the tides. “Warsaw,” an upbeat but somber track off their 2023 EP, Wake Up & It’s Over, performed as the sky grew darker, the good supply into nightfall on the last night.
“You don’t have to go to Reno to see some kinky, sex shit,” Jesse Camp, the now 40-something MTV alum, screamed into the mic. “It’s Yves Tumor!” The enigmatic rock star burst onto the stage in skintight leather-based bike pants and a sequin bikini high slung over his black tank like a necklace.
The tone was set with the very first track, “God Is a Circle,” the campy, horror-inspired lead monitor from 2023’s Praise A Lord… that melds shrieking, menacing breaths, and apocalyptic fuzzed-out synth bass right into a glittering punk anthem. Blending carnal psychedelia and ferocious glam rock, the set unfurled into blistering digital manufacturing and smoky R&B.
Yves Tumor led the crowd into “Operator” with hip-thrusts and sensuous swaying, titillating the viewers. Yves Tumor bared their chest to a screaming crowd who begged for one other flash. During the track’s bridge, Yves Tumor initiated a “be aggressive!” call-and-response with the amped-up crowd, which felt like the good encapsulation of the set: solely linked and but totally confrontational.
With a “Jackie” encore and a last enactment of faux fucking the drum package, the efficiency feels arena-ready — however not for its technical accuracy or fluidity. Tumor’s booming stage presence is as complete and practiced as essential to enrapture stadiums.
Closing out a day of nice various music, Surf Curse rolled in with laughter and rage as they launched into capping out the weekend. If you have been an indie child in the 2010s, you’ve most likely heard the Reno band’s “Freaks.” The now LA-based surf-rock group captures the melancholy coming-of-age suburban sound with a nostalgic ‘60s SoCal twist. Fitting in 14 songs in their 45-minute time slot, the group played with ferocious intensity. At one point, the group’s drummer Nick Rattigan truly breaks his drumstick mid song-opening. The “surf heads” begin moshing by the fourth track “Heathers,” a traditional indie-rock track that captures the 2010s.
The two-day occasion showcased the eclectic sound of a new era of different music. From jazz, indie-pop, new age R&B, and alt-rock acts, the weekend felt like much less of a traditional music competition and extra like a extremely curated artist’s exhibition of who to look out for in 2023. With extra picnic blankets than mosh pits, and countless places to lounge, sprawl, and frolic, Bleached Festival was as gratifying because it was thrilling.
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