• Perfect scale for the fest (two nights, 7-2) and a totally different, albeit equally high-quality vibe from last year.
• Main Stage PA at Now That’s Class substantially improved and still mindbendingly overpowered for the room, with predictably mindbending results, particularly during Mike Shiflet’s set (probably the strongest live showing I’ve seen/heard from him to date, which is truly saying something!) and Emeralds’, a circa-30-minute take on “Genetic,” which was basically like being brutally deprogrammed through full-spectrum riff tonnage.  ”The Continuing Story of Counterpoint” for the Abu Ghraib generation.  ”Fucked up” doesn’t begin to describe it.
• Killer afternoon beach trip with Kate, Road Chief, Big John, Tarantula Hill gang, et al…and speaking of said gang, Nautical Almanac feat. Weyes Bluhd was multi-tendriled, symbiotic, and perfectly confounding.  Arguably the finest “general-purpose” (i.e. excepting VoV last summer) NA set I’ve seen to date.  Oh yeah, and Julian was there, too!  Got to see him blast a Synaptic Foliage set for the first time as well, which was a perfectly unhurried/focused basement chiller of the highest order!
• I had an awesome salad at some point.
• Telecult Powers and Grasshopper pre-fest jammer at Bent Crayon (and hanging at Bent Crayon in general).  Speaking of TP/Ghop, I finally got to hear Hex Breaker Quintet in action, and true to the form of both constituent units, the results were utterly unlike anything else of the contemporary moment; dual modular/dual processed trumpet, all thru 4x mic’d amps in floorcore-revival zone with oceans of class to spare.  Crazy quasi-post-chamberjazz dynamics around the edges, with a massive and lusciously detailed journey into the nebula at the center.  Someone get these dawgs on wax asap, and while you’re at it, get that Fragments/Moth Cock crossover into some sort of disgusting aspic! One of the better head-scratchers of my entire “summer vacation,” that!
• Huevos a la Mexicana and pickled carrots at Mi Pueblo.
• Schurt Kwitters Open Mouth tape reish’d on wax, and Hanson distro table in general!  Dilloway also in peerless form headlining night one, in tandem with Robert Turman, a duo that’s audibly gone from “collab” (i.e. “gentlemanly exchange of ideas”) to “project” (i.e. “fully articulated parallel universe“) in the year or so since I last heard it, to phenomenal effect.  Two of the finest players in the game right now, and always a pleasure/privilege to witness.  Their recent Medusa tape is a total ripper as well!
• “Have you ever been with an AUSTRALIAN woman?“

• Drink tix only good for Dortmunder???  Not clear on why Great Lakes is hell-bent on pushing the worst thing they make (it’s like this in Philly, too), but whatever.  I talked them into giving me Bell‘s Oberon anyway, and speaking of amazing shit from Michigan (WORST SEGUE IN THIS ARTICLE, I KNOW!), I finally got to check Dog Lady after a couple years of Wyatt and Dilloway talking him up to me and could not have been more psyched by what transpired…incredible next level in the evolution of Michigan basement dub and one of my favorite memories of the entire trip.  Total jawdropper.
• Neither Viebranz nor Delzoppo represented in the lineup this year!  Admirable anti-conflict-of-interest stance (insofar as they curated the whole affair), but still, would’ve been sick for us out-of-towners to have the chance to check ‘em in current incarnations.
• Walk to Almanar still as grueling as ever.  Seriously, fuck the entirety of West 117th between Detroit and Triskett.
• Kate ate my spinach pie.  I’m pretty sure she really enjoyed it though, so this is maybe more of a neutral point than a totally negative one.
• Someone ran non-flavored coffee through the flavor grinder at Root Cafe.  German chocolate cake aftertaste fucked up my life for a solid afternoon.  (Root Cafe is cool though…don’t wanna imply that this is par for their particular course!)
• No Skin Graft set!  (Still, it’s only fair to note that Wyatt kicked all sorts of ass in Jerk and DPI, respectively.)
• West Park Phnom Penh closed for vacation.
• Lechuguillas hanging but not jamming!  Chicago crew out in force, though, and permutating with rust belt-specific agility: high-density splatter jazz from Forbes/Laughlin and pummelling basement scum-rock from Naked Island, a new post-post-hXc agglomeration of Tiger Hatchery/Heat Death/Chemtrails.  Rulers, all.
• Had that fucking Scott Stapp Marlins anthem stuck in my head for a few days after the Hot Air Balloon Ride set.  Ugh.
• Not nearly enough time in town to catch up with everyone!  Very much wanted to get Bbob and Kristen’s take on their recent and welcome revival of duo Fluxmonkey, which delivered everything I could have possibly wanted from both the “wonky” and “ludic” columns simultaneously.  VERY different and equally beautiful approach from their more “polite”/restrained second stage performance at VoV last summer!
• Joe playing lamer gig on the other side of town and not on hand to be with an AUSTRALIAN woman.

Basically, that’s it, right?  I have this idea that I may follow this up with a “best of tour trades” review over at Deception Island before too long, but really, I’m probably not excited enough about the internet to follow through, so yeah.  Who knows.