Features | Festivals

Pitchfork Music Festival 2011: Photo Round-up 3

By The Staff | 14 August 2011

:: All photos by Nate Smith

Day 3 :: Sunday

Kurt Vile & the Violators

Kurt Vile begins to wonder whether he might have made better use of that last outlet with a reverb pedal instead of that fan blowing his hair back.

“Oh God, I’m so embarrassed about this hole in my jeans. I hope no one’s staring at this hole in my jeans.”

“Yeah, dude, The Hair is gonna need his own lanyard, thanks man.”

Momentarily distracted, he catches sight of someone up close who ACTUALLY FUCKING REFUSES TO BOOGIE.

“Pfffttttt, yikes, that was rank.”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti

Artist will eat itself.

“And now for my impression of Dave Mustaine getting a colonic.”


“I don’t care if you can’t read your music, I’m not pulling your hair back again.”


Shit just got reflexive.

Let’s put it this way: the dude on keyboards is like Faust and his play’s about to end.

Thinking: “Oh shit, what have I just been doing for the past half hour? Who are all these people? Did I miss the Little Women reading?”


“Careful now, mustn’t…get…too…heavy.”

It’s not what they’re playing but he’s thinking about “Strange Lights.”

“All this natural light is fucking terrifying.”


“Check out my waveforms.”

Ringu’s set was, in a word, terrifying.

“I worked really hard on my bangs today, guys, and you barely noticed.”

The errant banana peel strikes again.

Not pictured: guy in band with short hair, thinking, “Oh I hate my band so fucking much.”

His mom had always recommended prune juice to settle a nervous stomach. He was never going to trust his mom again.



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