Midlake Gets a Proposal; Bob Dylan Closes ACL

On Austin City Limits' final day (Sept. 16), the festival's eclectic lineup shined brightly; indie stalwarts Yo La Tengo illustrated the band's career long fluctuating sonic, DeVotchKa graced Texas with a little more culture than located at the bottom of a tequila shot or in a taco, Midlake soothed with its dark melodic vocal layering, and Bob Dylan, well, he appropriately capped the weekend's ceremonies by taking the stage clad in country duds and belting out classic tunes, both fresh and tried and true.

Yo La Tengo
AMD Stage
Yo La Tengo was one of the more able-bodied and musically well-rounded acts of the day (Sept. 16), and they had a sound much louder than the crowd in attendance. From expansive, experimental guitar soloing to the sweet sounds of shoegaze-y indie rock to speedy abrupt punk, Yo La cycled through 20 years of experience in just under an hour. Whether filling songs with melodic dreaminess or dissonant ugliness, all was compelling. Amid dedications to Lucinda Williams and air traffic controllers, rested "Beanbag Chair" off their latest I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass, a playful piano tune with a cute chorus. As singer/guitarist Ira Kaplan sang seated at the keys, bubbles floated by. Then, they leaped right into "Watch Out for Me Ronnie" in all it's punk furiousness so quickly that even the sound engineers were caught off guard, and Kaplan's outstretched vocals came through distorted. As all members traded off on vocals, the sound and tempo of the set shifted as well. But, there was a constant: Kaplan's enthusiastic solos. Drums and bass stuck to the pace as he was buckled over his guitar with an excruciating look on his face while he made short work of his guitar and utilized every string and fret. Though the solos stretched on for ten minutes sometimes, the crowd didn't dissipate. Actually, more came.

DeVotchKa
AT&T Blue Room
Curious festivalgoers were pulled over from the finish of Robert Earl Keen's set across the field by an irresistible international sound. Although hailing from Denver, DeVotchKa's folk incorporates the sounds of Eastern Europe as well as bolero, mariachi and other regional sounds, and Texas was intrigued. Every time the violin would chirp or the accordion would sing out at the open of a song the crowd clapped and whistled and welcomed the vacation from rock convention. After using his wine bottle as a slide on his bouzouki (a first sight for many), singer Nick Urata swayed his bottle back and forth in European drinking song fashion. But, soon the beat picked up and Urata and the crowd began dancing and clapping as if everyone was on holiday in the Balkans. All that was missing was the occasional Hey! shouted between beats. Everyone cheered for "How It Ends" as Urata's voice sailed out across the crowd followed by lamenting violin and the thrum of the bow against the stand-up bass. Clad in dark suits, DeVotchKa didn't seem hindered by the heat. Now, the group seems further and further away from their original start as a backing band for burlesque shows. A well-rounded instrument list, they also came with sousaphone, trumpet and a theremin that sounded very similar at times to Andrew Bird's whistling the day before. By the end, Urata was raking his bouzouki against the stage (another first sight for many).

Midlake
Austin Ventures Stage
What could make the thick warming harmonies, acoustic strums and choruses backed by organ hums of Midlake any more tender? An onstage proposal. Whatever the crowd's opinions are toward public proposals, the effort expended to ask this of your favorite band is certainly impressive. She said yes, of course. The trouble with that is, who's going to turn down someone and embarrass someone in front of thousands of people? It's really putting someone on the spot. Midlake appropriately followed this expression of love with "Young Bride." Electric organ effects like strings and three keyboards going at once hand in hand with a euphonic steady melody. The crowd seemed entranced by and smitten with the brightness of the keys and acoustic chords of "We Gathered in Spring," while clean clanks of tambourines filled in the gaps. Having played together for nearly 10 years after coming together at the University of North Texas College of Music while studying jazz, these five guys from Denton charmed the grimy, sweat-streaked shorts off everyone in their modest but tightly-packed crowd.

Bob Dylan
AT&T Stage
By the time the orchestral intro started up and a voice announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, Columbia recording artist Bob Dylan!", everyone was already vying for a spot closer to the stage to get a good look at the legend. In a fortunate turn of events, a vein opened up and there was a steady stream almost to within a glow stick's throw from the stage. Dylan started up with some bluesy folk tunes with interlocking guitar and his gravely, smokey voice came out over the speakers while patrons less familiar with his material tried to guess what he was saying. But, even if they couldn't decipher it, they loved it. But for everyone any further back than standing up front with their chests pressed up against the barricade, it was going to be next to impossible to crack the mysterious shell around Dylan.

No one could see his face. He stood in a black suit with a large-brimmed hat keeping his face always in the shadows, and his crew made sure no close up footage could be taken and plastered on the big screens on either side of the stage. Everyone still cheered regardless of the fact that their curiosity wouldn't be quenched. The applause got especially loud every time Dylan put the harmonica to his lips as with the gloomy "Ballad of a Thin Man." He played the organ throughout while he stood changing up between harmonica and his unique vocals, which nearly everyone attempts to imitate from time to time. Although his voice has been stretched for almost 50 years and it's gotten a little rougher, a little scratchier, it's still unmistakable. As his set grew nearer to the end than the beginning, all of the people there just to say they saw him and cross his name off a list left, and it thinned out. Closer now, but still unable to see his face except the occasional flashes of flesh tone. No stage banter. He never once spoke to the crowd in anything other than song. He finished out with the 1965 hit and Dylan favorite closer "Like a Rolling Stone" with his mystery in tact. WILLIAM MILLS / PHOTOS BY MARK C. AUSTIN

For more on Austin City Limits, check out our coverage of Friday and Saturday