Despite acts of God and far worse ( the wrath of one Chicago alderman in particular ), the 2015 edition of Riot Fest landed in Douglas Park and went on without a hitch Sept. 11-13.
Never mind all the front-page bitching about the supposed rape of the lawns and topiary of Humboldt Park, or that last-minute hissy fit from Mount Sinai Hospital—this time out, the festival continued to improve dramatically on a number of levels. That the three-day festival rolled out so smoothly was a feat of organization and showmanship, but the kicker is that this seemingly narrowly focused event ( lots and lots of really loud aggressive music in the guise of punk, heavy metal and hard rock ) has continuously morphed into an all-inclusive musical and social happening and that could not be predicted.
The rap and hip-hop presence was undeniable ( Snoop Dogg, Cypress Hill, queer ally Psalm One and Ice Cube ) and there was an influx of reggae ( Stephan and Damian Marley performed separately, as did icon Jimmy Cliff ), but the old-school country ( Merle Haggard ) and funk ( Bootsy Collins ) elements broadened the appeal substantially.
There was also a strong queer flavor to Riot Fest 2015, with main stage sets by trans rocker Laura Jane Grace ( with Against Me! ), queer icons Iggy Pop and Gwen Stefani ( fronting No Doubt ), vintage queer poster boy Billy Idol, local LGBTQ allies Meat Wave and California rockers Faith No More ( featuring out member Roddy Bottum ). There was also plenty of female-generated thunder for those looking for some Sapphic hard rock with Rhiannon "Ritzy" Bryan fronting The Joy Formidable, Gabriela Quintero as half of Rodrigo y Gabriela, local femme fatale Alex White of White Mystery, and all female legends L7 and Babes In Toyland.
There were great new relatively unknown bands playing the smaller stages as well and, for this observer, St. Louis quintet Foxing proved to be the big surprise of the weekend. Lead vocalist Conor Murphy not only yelped his way through a batch of highly literate angst art rock while contorting his body in a fit of sweaty sincerity, but he also had to front one of the most furious bands let loose at the festival. Skinny Lister was just as surprising, as the act's Irish-tinged hard country-blues had this black leather- and-boots crowd bopping about like happy first-graders.
Naturally, there were the old-school classics that have given Riot Fest the nickname "Nostalgia Fest." Yes, every year there are decades-old bands that land at this festival and, though cynics may view it as padding, it is a boon for younger festival attendees who never had the chance to see these artists up close and personal. ( Among the acts that my 21-year-old friend Zoila got to see for the first time at recent Riot Fests were Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Blondie, Iggy Pop and Sublime. )
After buying all those cool-looking albums at Wax Trax back in the early '80s, it was a delight for me to finally see goth legends The Damned and landmark African-American hard rockers Living Colour in the flesh. ( Yes, it was worth the wait. ) Merle Haggard was not only warmly received by the overflow crowd but was embraced with true affection as I, and I suspect many in attendance, knew that this would probably be the only chance that we would get to see him live. Bootsy's Rubber Band made its entrance in astronaut suits and with the promise that, "We're gonna turn this mutha OUT!!!," ignited an ass-shaking hoedown that turned this metal-punk gathering into a full-scale funk freak-out.
There were many many other highlights—way too many to include here, although I have every intention of holding onto each one until my last breath. Among them: the almost radioactive cheer projected by The Joy Formidable, the sinewy snarl in Billy Idol's rip through "Rebel Yell," Captain Sensible's ( of The Damned ) cheeky Brit humor and sailor suit, the psychotic pop-eyed expressions twisting across Babes in Toyland vocalist Kat Bjelland's face, Gwen Stefani's elegant charisma, Ice Cube's thunderous rage and Francis White's ( of White Mystery ) literal physical fusion with his drum kit.
There was something of an unexpected shocker in seeing so many young LGBTQ youth being themselves while out in the open and having a blast in such a varied and huge space. That, in itself, is the most intriguing oddity of this festival of all—how a celebration of heavy metal and punk rock, both of which has historically embraced violence, confrontation, social separation, and the rejection of differing perspectives could turn into a massive safe space for people of all genders, colors, identities and differences with the sole intent of celebration and friendship. Maybe George Clinton will headline Riot Fest 2016, and a three-hour jam through Funkadelic's "One Nation Under A Groove" would certainly not be out of place.
