Despite this summer feeling more like a Global Warming Mosh Pit so far than any sort of celebratory pageant in the sun, the weather forecast for the latest edition of the indefatigable and inexplicably still-entertaining alt-bro convention in Chicago’s Grant Park looks surprisingly humane. And though this year’s line-up seems to lack the potential for put-down-that-Chubby-weiner-and-start-running historical moments — like Deadmau5’s mainstage EDM coronation in a driving rainstorm last year — there is still plenty of highlight material, if the elements align. What follows is a day-by-day road map of the shows for which the SPIN staff would flee the safety of our palatial pup tent in the media VIP mudpit. So you know this stuff is aces.
Despite this summer feeling more like a Global Warming Mosh Pit so far than any sort of celebratory pageant in the sun, the weather forecast for the latest edition of the indefatigable and inexplicably still-entertaining alt-bro convention in Chicago’s Grant Park looks surprisingly humane. And though this year’s line-up seems to lack the potential for put-down-that-Chubby-weiner-and-start-running historical moments — like Deadmau5’s mainstage EDM coronation in a driving rainstorm last year — there is still plenty of highlight material, if the elements align. What follows is a day-by-day road map of the shows for which the SPIN staff would flee the safety of our palatial pup tent in the media VIP mudpit. So you know this stuff is aces.
Friday, 12 Noon – 12:45 p.m.
At a festival full of musical spectacle and outsize personalities, Johanna and Klara Söderberg of First Aid Kit will wow you humbly. On both their glinting 2010 debut The Big Black & The Blue, and this year's gorgeous The Lion's Roar, the Swedish sisters do it for themselves with pure close harmony and strummy folk-rock arrangements. Theirs is a simple sound, but it's so clean and clear and true that it soars without any pyro or preening. DAVID MARCHESE
Friday, 2:00 p.m. – 3:00 p.m.
Waifish disco aesthete Orlando Higginbottom, a.k.a. Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs (or TEED), is a technically adept 22-year-old whose debut album Trouble unveils warmly burbling grooves of impish dance-pop melancholy (that owe a clear debt to Hot Chip, whose Joe Goddard released TEED's first EP on his Greco-Roman label). At a couple of New York live shows this week, though, the often impassive Oxford, England lad cranked the bass, emphasized the tracks' dramatic surge, and wore a black-and-turquoise-patterned costume with a Triceratops-like frill on his shoulders. Not to mention featuring two dancers in bodysuits sporting elaborate headgear. And he fired off a confetti cannon. Don't be surprised if you start involuntarily giggling and wiggling during this one. CHARLES AARON
Friday, 2:15 – 3:00 p.m.
Behind frontman Adam Granduciel's laconic Tom Petty-isms and wriggling guitar leads, The War on Drugs offer jam-band thrills without the genre's eye-rolling elements. Instant roadtrip playlist favorites like "Baby Missiles" and "Your Love Is Calling My Name" roll by with the wind in their hair, glistening synths and sparkling guitar drafting close behind. The songs travel far from where they started, and never stop to twirl with tie-dye aimlessness. The band's live sets get high, but stay focused. DAVID MARCHESE
Friday, 3:15 – 4: 15 p.m.
After hearing the Australian foursome's forthcoming, Dave Fridmann-produced sophomore full-length, Lonerism, one SPIN staffer commented that they "really know how to make their guitars sound like lasers." But to fully experience the power of Tame Impala's psychedelic vision, you have to see them onstage, lording over their ever-increasing array of effects pedals, conjuring sounds and textures and ripping through dimensions with a coolly assured efficiency that'd make Jonny Greenwood sweat. DAVID BEVAN
Friday, 4:00 – 5:00 p.m.:
Metric's Synthetica ranks with Sleigh Bells' Reign of Terror and Santigold's Master of My Make-Believe as one of the year's finest alt-pop albums. And "Breathing Underwater" rates as one of the year's most affecting songs (and potentially the band's breakthrough single), with its immediately enveloping twinkle and throb, which powerfully builds to the lump-in-throat declarative question asked by any normal person who has survived the age of 29: "Is this my life?" With five albums to draw from, playing a main stage in the late afternoon as the crowd's getting fully juiced, Metric could have the first truly memorable set of the first day. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 4:15 – 5:15 p.m.: The Afghan Whigs
Friday, 5:00 – 6:00
Even if the zef-ness isn't as novel as it was back in 2010, South African maybe-satirists Die Antwoord are still just about the freakiest musical act on Earth. MC Ninja stalks the stage like a meth-head's half-remembered nightmare of Vanilla Ice, hook girl Yo-Landi Vi$$er is a manic demon-pixie, and DJ Hi-Tek's rave-rap beats are…actually, occasionally bad-ass. So who cares if these guys are a art-project provocation gone bonkers? The crowd is still 100 percent gonna go apeshit. DAVID MARCHESE
Friday, 5:45 – 6:45 p.m.
With the early-evening slot in the dance-tent sweatbox, this baby-faced Skrillex labelmate will drop the first official bass bombshells of the festival, which will detonate alongside plenty of plinky, pretty, pleasantly levitating keyboard melodies that could soundtrack a dark-forest chase scene in Twilight 8: The Last Plug-In (see the title track of Robinson’s 2012 album Language). It’ll be worth braving the hordes of ravenous, red-faced teens just to hear Robinson unleash “Say My Name” (not a Destiny’s Child remix), his wubblicious, ecstatically swerving 2010 EDM insta-anthem. CHARLES AARON
Friday, 6:15 – 7:30 p.m.
Singer-songwriter James Mercer's doleful, delicately wrought pop-rock just naturally feels like more of an indoor, after-dark proposition, but this show (nearing sunset on a main stage), could be a nice transition to the evening's free-for-all, since Mercer is measurably amping up the dynamics and intensity of his songs live with the help of the latest Shins line-up, especially guitarist Jessica Dobson. Whether he's keening through "Caring Is Creepy" or "Simple Song" (from new album Port of Morrow), this is no longer a shambling, jangling indie operation in any discernible way, which in this scenario, is probably better for everyone involved. CHARLES AARON
Friday, 6:50 – 7:30 p.m.
Sure, she's a lewd goofball, but there's something about Dev's brand of in-your-face electro innuendo that's got an innocent charm. The 23-year-old mom of a seven-month-old baby girl is not trying to prove how edgy or trashy or down-with-all-those-rap-guys she is; she just wants to ride a percolating Cataracs beat and coo about sexing you up, as on singles "Bass Down Low" and "In the Dark." Why bother arguing with that? Or just have a laugh and run over to catch the encore of "New Slang." CHARLES AARON
Friday, 7:30 – 8:30 p.m.
More than just about anyone on the festival's bill, M83's main emotional button-masher Anthony Gonzalez makes music designed to elicit overwhelming erections of the heart. A panorama of glowing, monolithic synths, massive heartbeat hooks, and teen-dream drama, M83's live sets in support of the majestic double-disc Hurry Up, We're Dreaming, has been spirited marvels of swooning bombast. If you're hungry to look deep into the eyes of one you've never kissed but always wanted to, do it at this set. And do it when Gonzalez kicks into "Midnight City." DAVID MARCHESE
(Alternate) 7:00 – 8:15 p.m.: Nero
Friday, 8:05 – 10:00 p.m.
Sure, metal's funkiest drummer Bill Ward walked out of this false-start reunion with two middle fingers blazing. Sure, Ozzy is 63 and moves like he's 93. Sure, they've been playing stuff off Technical Ecstasy, for whatever reason. But when the demonic opening chords of "Black Sabbath" ripple through the Lolla crowd like wind through a wheat field, you'll have no choice but to succumb to the inventors of the subterranean drop drowning out Bassnectar. CHRISTOPHER R. WEINGARTEN
Friday, 8:45 – 10:00 p.m.
On the other end of the park, the Black Keys are undeniably the best no-bullshit, meat-and-taters live rock band in the world right now, a veritable steamroller of back-to-basics riff'n'roll. But sometimes you've got a craving for a little something else, something a little more out-there, a little more transformative or ridiculous or brain-busting. More to the point, sometimes you've got a craving for BASS!!!. And America's No. 1 purveyor of dubstep dropmania (sorry, Skrillie), ex-death metal DIY pied piper Lorin Ashton, will turn you into a "bass head" in no time flat. And, if not, medical personnel are on hand. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 8:30 – 10:00 p.m.: Black Keys
Saturday, 1:30 – 2:15 p.m.
Brothers Jake and Jamin Orrall have always been a frenzied, jurgle-nurgling live act. Until recently, though, the Nashville rawk-pop duo has had their wild energy contained inside grotty clubs, basements, and wherever else they could melt faces. But with the release of the melodically head-banging Hypnotic Nights, JEFF's first release for Warner Bros., the band is graduating to the big stages. Go, and see them prove how much damage two dudes who believe purely in the almighty power of the riff can do. DAVID MARCHESE
(Alternate) 1:30 – 2:15 p.m.: Bear in Heaven
Saturday, 2:15 p.m. – 3:00 p.m.
Through the mid-late 1990s, Los Angeles-area hip-hop kid Egbert Dawkins III struggled to make a name as the left-field rapper Emanon, even joining up with the Madlib-produced Lootpack for a stint, but nothing ever fully clicked. Then after signing with Peanut Butter Wolf's Stones Throw label, he relaunched as the soul singer Aloe Blacc, and in 2010 had a remarkable turnaround with the stellar album Good Things, and most notably, the heartrendingly timely ode to being ass-out broke, "I Need a Dollar." It's hard to imagine a more soothing yet invigorating set to ease you into a Saturday afternoon. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 2:00 – 3:00 p.m.: Star Slinger
Saturday, 4:15 – 5:15
If you're in a crew of graybeards, this band's steady Southern choogle and lead singer Brittany Howard's volcanic, bluesy rasp will stir Age of Aquarius festival memories. Or if you're amongst younger tyros, the Alabama foursome's fearsome classic-rock quaking will definitely convert some new believers. But if you're in the majority of regular music-going folk in-between, you'll happily gorge on a hefty helping of stick-to-the-ribs, soul-rockin' delicacies. DAVID MARCHESE
Saturday, 4:45 – 5:30
B.o.B hasn't topped the Billboard Hot 100 in two years; headliners the Black Keys have never approached the Top 10; and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are still gunnin' for that No. 1 spot after 30 years. No, the only Lollapaloozers to make it happen this year were New York City majestick black paraders fun., whose "We Are Young" is like "Tubthumping" with purpose and sex appeal. Perfformed live, it's somewhere between self-help seminar, pep rally, and U2-at-Red-Rocks anthem chant-a-thon. #YOLO CHRISTOPHER R. WEINGARTEN
Saturday, 5:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m.
The critically acclaimed aquired-taste of 2011, Merrill "tUnE-yArDs" Garbus won the Village Voice critics poll for her musically varied, lyrically inquisitive album w h o k i l l, and emerged as the most talked-about, Afropop-influenced singer-songwriter-percussionist-ukulele player in the country. Garbus' songs are forceful, knotty arguments, sort of the flipside to the sophisticated rattle-trap concoctions of clear inspiration Mica Levi (of Micachu and the Shapes). While Levi focuses on intricate moods, Garbus tends to blurt and jolt and boldly bellow. Seeing her attempt to win over (or not) a crowd not already in her thrall should be interesting. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 5:15 – 6:15 p.m.: Tallest Man on Earth
Saturday, 5:45 p.m. – 6:45 p.m.
Following B.o.B's flagging emo-rap variety show in the dance tent should only further dramatize how these dubstep-originating London DJ partners deliver one of the most stunningly devastating sonic assaults in pop music today. Throughout a career of game-changing moments individually (Skream's "Midnight Request Line" or Benga & Coki's "Night") and together (the soaring exhilaration of "I Need Air" and rumbling cool of "Perfect Stranger" in the crossover project Magnetic Man), Skream and Benga have never slept, and their restless desire to keep dubstep vibrantly evolving (without imploding into a bro-tastrophe) has also led them to be much less judgmental of their American counterparts than some U.K. grumps. Welcome, gents, and feel free to bass-bludgeon Perry Farrell into a puddle of jelly. CHARLES AARON
Saturday, 6:00 p.m. – 7:00 p.m.
If you've read SPIN at all in over the past year, then you know we've willingly succumbed and enabled the Weeknd's aural plunge into romance's dankest, groggiest, most compromised corners (which would cover virtually every corner, basically). But after three shockingly accomplished, universally celebrated mixtapes (all released in 2011), plus high-profile contributions to Take Care, the most recent album by No. 1 stan Drake, Weeknd frontman Abel Tesfaye has been challenged to successfully bring the elegantly engulfing studio backdrops and falsetto passive-aggression of his recorded output to the stage with a live band. Reports have been increasingly encouraging, so this twilight gig should be a treat. CHARLES AARON
Saturday, 7:00 p.m. – 8:15 p.m.
Back in 2008 at Coachella, Calvin Harris was a genial Scottish moptop disco revivalist and better-than-most host for a Sahara Tent dance diversion. Nobody could've predicted back then that he'd eventually evolve into an indispensable player in the EDM-pop takeover of the post-Gaga era, popping up as writer/producer on megalithic hits like Rihanna's "We Found Love" and "Where Have You Been," plus scoring international hits with his own foam-and strobelight anthems "Feel So Close" and "Let's Go." This post-dinner set in the dance tent could provide some of the more shuddering crescendos and riotious candy-rave kookiness of the weekend. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 7:00 – 8:00 p.m.: Bloc Party
Saturday, 8:45 p.m. – 9:45 p.m.
Musically and culturally, there is no more compelling figure in pop right now. After a lengthy gestation, Odd Future confrere Frank Ocean bust into the mass consciousness with the brilliantly futuristic, confessional R&B of channel ORANGE His entrée into live performance has been just as compelling. Expect expert covers, spacy stage lighting, sparse yet orchestral instrumental backing, the simmering charisma of a young man becoming himself in full, and that falsetto. DAVID MARCHESE
(Alternate) 8:45 – 10:00 p.m.: Santigold
Saturday, 8:30 – 10:00 p.m.
When people damn EDM as bubblegum, drug-fueled nonsense for rave-tourist adolescents waving their first glowstick, they might be thinking of this Swedish heartthrob, whose international, Etta James-sampling hit "Le7els" has become the official cuddle-puddle anthem of the 21st century. Thing is, Avicii's sets are tremendously effective, taking care to flow in and out of distinct sections and not settle for a glazed-over electro-house thud. And though this may seem like heresy to some, at this point I'd rather hear Avicii artfully blend into a house remix of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Otherside" than hear the elder statesmen grind their way through the original. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 8:00 – 10:00 p.m.: Red Hot Chili Peppers
Sunday, 1:30 p.m.– 2:15 p.m.
This atmospheric Minneapolis quartet (an offshoot of Gayngs and endorsed by Justin Vernon) would've been tagged trip-hop 15 years ago, with Channy Leaneagh's bluesy doomed-to-love-alone vocals and the cinematic, beat-driven tracks tweaking a mix of R&B, hip-hop, and jazz. Who knows how all this relatively nuanced emoting will go over on an early Sunday afternoon at Lolla, but who knows, it might just be a soothing remedy for your hangover. CHARLES AARON
Sunday, 2:00 p.m.– 3:00 p.m.
The Baltimore DJ duo of Dave Nada and Matt Nordstrom are best known for developing the moombahton subgenre, a slower mix of house and electro that echoes reggaeton's synth bump, which means very little until you're experiencing them in a club (or, in this case, a tent), and they suddenly have you wriggling along to the slinkiest, most effortlessly complex groove you've ever heard. And then come the congas. Snooze on this one and lose big. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 2:10 – 2:50 p.m.: Overdoz
3:15 p.m. – 4:15 p.m.
After collaborating with Gorillaz and then providing beats and inspiration for Big Boi's upcoming album, Swedish band Little Dragon are clearly having an influential moment, though their subtle, sleek, electro-pop maneuverings, led by inscrutably soulful vocalist Yukimi Nagano, can sometimes feel more moody than emotive in their studio versions. Live, though, ably backed by her jazzy, beardo bandmates, Nagano is a mesmerizing, irresistible presence, her vocals captivating, her charisma electric, and her attire always the subject of envy.
CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 3:30 – 4:15 p.m.: Dum Dum Girls
4:00 p.m. – 5:00 p.m.
Regardless of how closely you've followed Sigur Ros on record over the past decade — they've veered in both noisier and more pop-friendly directions, at times — their live shows are always a transporting invocation of some ineffable sort or another (see the live concert film Inni). Frontman Jónsi Birgisson's falsetto warbles and bowed guitar still bring chills, and the band's orchestral indie-pop ambience remains unmatched. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 4:15 – 5:15 p.m.: J. Cole
5:15 p.m. – 6:15 p.m.
Lollapalooza has held onto the "Hey, music not in English is the true alternative" idea since shuffling Café Tacuba onto a second stage in 1992. But the first couple of Mali has done 'em one better on their recent Folila, turning their resonant African blues towards the beats and melodies of contemporary indie — and crewing with TV on The Radio, Nick Zinner and Theophilus London. They would be a must-see even if there wasn't a small chance that fellow weekend performer Santigold might show up for a run through the booming "Dougou Badia." CHRISTOPHER R. WEINGARTEN
6:00 p.m. – 7:15 p.m.
When At the Drive-In broke up in early 2001, after releasing their breakthrough album Relationship of Command, they were expected by many (including SPIN) to be the next great rock band of the 2000s, and they were certainly the most volcanically intense and musically accomplished live act spit out by '90s punk. Then frontman Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez bailed to go a-proggin' with the Mars Volta. No insult to that remarkably note-marauding band, but At the Drive-In is a special brand of rarrrgggh. Reportedly, the synchronized screams and leaps haven't been diminished by time. CHARLES AARON
(Alternate) 6:15 – 7:30 p.m.: Florence and the Machine
7:15 p.m. – 8:15 p.m.
Admittedly, these U.K. studio rats aren't the most sizzling of onstage personalities, but their 2012 album Future This is a crushworthy collection of electronic alt-rock anthems that were obviously written to echo off a big stage and cause that kid over by the Porta-Potties to start swooning (or thinking about his mommy). Especially "Hit the Ground (Superman)," which will probably turn up on film soundtracks for years to come, and deserves a festival setting for its blissful shoegaze-overdrive chorus alone. CHARLES AARON
8:15 p.m. – 10:00 p.m.
In a recent sit-down with MSNBC, White struggled to remember a time his live performance had ever failed to find applause. That's most certainly because rock's brightest, most volatile star doesn't play his guitar, he attacks it. Behind Blunderbuss, his first solo full-length debut, White has been touring with two bands simultaneously: the all-female, all-finesse Peacocks or all-male, all-muscle Los Buzzardos, each capable of delivering highlights from his songbook in their own ferociously distinct ways. No matter who he chooses to have back him up, though (and here's hoping he splits the set between the two), the result is sure to be a staggering display of force. DAVID BEVAN
8:30 p.m. – 10:00 p.m.
With their hilarious arena-rock swagger and straight-to-the-temple electro-throb hooks, Justice (pronounced "Joos-teece") mostly exists at this point to close festivals for crowds of pitifully sunburned and substance-damaged youth who just want to bang their heads and mouth along to an ironically goofy chorus that Daft Punk would’ve deleted because it was too obvious. The duo of Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé do not give a shit, about EDM or pop or anything else. They're fucking French, they're wearing leather jackets, and they're here to party — with you and for you. So what if they've got about five decent songs; that's not the point. They're always holding something else, just in case. Did I mention that they're fucking French? CHARLES AARON