Lollapalooza 2011: Manchester Orchestra / by Doyle Armbrust

One can only hope that proponents of philoso-comedian Marc Maron (who did a stint at Mayne Stage this weekend)'s intensely addictive podcast were at the Google+ stage tonight for a similarly autobiographical experience. Manchester Orchestra founder and singer Andy Hull makes no bones about taking personal self-divulgence well beyond the limited worlds of Facebook (and Google+ for that matter), tearing out his heart, Mola Ram style, and condemning it on stage for whomever will listen.

The Atlanta, GA-based rockers started things off muscley, carving through the cleverly titled "You, My Pride and Me," lead guitarist Robert McDowell's Gibson SG an altar of blissful fuzz. This is the band's fourth appearance at Lolla, something lead singer Andy Hull is proud to claim: "We'll play 200, I don't give a shit!" "You, My Pride..." also unleashed one of many throaty roars from Hull, one element of what makes the Orchestra such a live-show success: every member is fully, physically committed to the on-stage endeavor...nothing withheld. Next up was "Pale Black Eye," arguably a relatively feeble follow up to the monstrous opener, and sounding a bit like a morning XRT spin. Which is odd, given that the subject matter of the album from which originates (Simple Math) is far more penetratingly personal than the group's previous output. As the only pseudo-dud of the set, it must be said that this is the farthest back in the crowd I've seen folks singing along, verbatim. For "My Friend Marcus," off 2009's Mean Everything to Nothing LP, 15 seconds of lullaby-waltz immediately cracks into something that will do parents no favors putting children to sleep. Not to mention that the narrative here is the album's most quietly terrifying, following the fate of a friend, whose "father touched more than spirit." Tiny whimpers from Chris Freeman's synth makes the experience all the more unsettling. The fourth of the 10-song set rebounded back with a plucky little intro that quickly evolved into a fortress of mammoth guitar power, accompanied by more manic howls from Hull. Fan favorites like "Shake It Out," "I Can Barely Breathe" and "Everything to Nothing" had the faithful in ecstatic hand claps and arm-metronomes, but the closer, "The Only One" proved why Hull's ego-centric campaign is far more than just a one-man pity party. Dedicating the powerhouse number to a friend of the band, 18-year-old Anna, who died recently of bone cancer, Manchester Orchestra played themselves off much in the way they had entered: leaving nothing unsaid.

- Doyle Armbrust

published in the Time Out Chicago Audio File Blog on August 7th, 2011