Listen up kids. Boston Calling is back again. ‘tis the end of the festival season, autumn’s back and all the leaves will soon be brown. There’s probably more furniture scattered on those Boston, Allston, city streets than what’s fallen from trees, so don’t be afraid to celebrate the dwindle of summer this weekend in musician-heavy glory. Instead of scattering those last scraps of an ill-fated bookshelf down the length of Commonwealth Ave., take the T to Government Center bring your body to City Hall Plaza for one, two, or three, or all weekend long to hear some of the foxiest talent in music.
Friday is looking like a sleek, 1966 Shelby Cobra in a hometown parade. Future Islands, Neutral Milk Hotel, and The National are kicking the door down this Friday eve. No boots, no cats, just expect some Doc Martens and flannel backs. The spillover from the NMH set is sure to transition well into The National’s go-ahead. Anyone with bad vibes should be sent immediately to the hospital.
Saturday is going to be madness. There’s a solid variety of “cool-pop” and that’ll bring in the masses. Freshmen who haven’t spent all their money on Mr. Boston are spending it on a one-way ticket to Lorde (Problem: fans, not Lorde). Get there early on in the day and you’ll catch some of the more subtle pop with S. Carey, Sky Ferreira, and Volcano Choir. After Girl Talk shuffles through the history of music, the crowd’s going to be wild. And loud. And vicious for a stage side views of Lorde, so be wary if you like to be a casual Sam and sway rather than rock. Childish Gambino is the follow-up and he’s not gonna let up after Lorde heats it up. Saturday will be for the dancers and the wack.
There’s nothing really to say about Sunday. The War On Drugs will bring Red Eyes in all kinds of places. Especially the crowd. Here’s a question: what do you get when you combine swingy melodies, and jazz? Ear candy that call themselves Lake Street Dive. These Boston ex-Pats are the reason why your High School gym floor doesn’t host live bands anymore. The Plaza is made of cement, but it’ll feel more like thunder. And it’ll keep going, till you hit Spoon (define: transference). And Spoon does want you soul, so you better give it. They’ll be forkin’ around like a bowl in a knife fight(??) But who replaces the Replacements? Nobody. The nearly original lineup is back for more, and between Spoon and them you’ll get your fair share of rasp ridden vocals. Pretty enough before Nas and The Roots do something amazing to top off the night. Seriously though, Sunday is going to be killer.
It’s rain or shine, so don’t forget to bring the sun. And clothes. Definitely don’t forget clothes.