Austin City Limits Music Festival returned to the Texas city for the 23rd year. The festival runs on the weekends from Oct. 3-5 and Oct. 10-12. The first Saturday of the event, which landed on Oct. 4, featured a variety of musicians, including Madalena Bay, Joe Keery’s musical alias Djo and the Grammy award-winning Sabrina Carpenter. Festivalgoers entering the grounds found a musical world filled with joyous community and the opportunity to escape from the quarrels of the world.
Pain and worries do not plague these music lovers. They have become entranced with the melodious synth sound of Magdelena Bay, who teleport the listeners with an insufficient water intake to otherworldly landscapes and entities. The duo’s performance reflects the narrative-driven album with the use of masks and costume changes. The birth, death and rebirth of lead singer Mica Tenenbaum provides a clear arc that allows the audience to fully let go, not worrying about time. The duo takes festivalgoers by the hand and leads them into the pop duo’s worlds, accentuated by playfully abstract set pieces. The intimacy of the performance encapsulates the escapism that ACL offers its attendees. Eventually, the production comes to an end and the spell is broken.
One festivalgoer grapples with intense foot pain because her boots had suddenly fallen apart the day before the festival, forcing her to wear a new pair that were not yet broken in. Along the barricade, eager Djo-enthusiasts slowly slide to the ground along the railing. The hour between Magdelena Bay and Djo never seems to cease. Audiences grow tired in the sun’s rays that seemingly drain the enthusiasm from crowds. Yet, the sound waves emitted from Doechii’s performance over at the American Express stage counter the maleficent heat, for heads begin to gyrate to the lyrics of “Nissan Altima.” The sun begins to set, lights click on and slowly the crowd rises — a rebirth.
The beginning of Djo’s “Awake” hushes the audience until the singer appears on stage and rapturous screams envelop the Ladybird stage. The attitudes of ACL festivalgoers have shifted once again.
Akin to Magdalena Bay, Djo avoids falling into the trap of merely singing the songs. While the former did so using costume changes and set pieces, Djo makes the most of the settled sun and employs an amalgamation of lights and smoke to create gravitas on the stage that culminates in him playing “End of Beginning.” During that song’s two-and-half-minute audio experiment, the most pressing matter for the audience was Djo’s performance. The chanting of “You take the man out of the city, not the city out of man,” creates a collective consciousness in the audience that has absolved them of their troubles. It is as if their thirsts become quenched, and the blisters upon their feet bubble down. Contentment seemingly fills their hearts.
An encore chant breaks out at the end of Djo’s production, but the desire for more quickly dissipates as the crowd migrates to the American Express stage for the final performance of the night: Sabrina Carpenter.
Carpenter arrives slightly late to the stage, and in those moments, the feverish astonishment of audiences slightly diminishes as some members decide to leave the area. Once Carpenter takes the stage, the crowd becomes bewitched, but their attention span and energy have been depleted throughout the day. Carpenter even makes several comments about the low level of enthusiasm in the mass display. She encourages fans to dance and scream at the top of their lungs; the audience remains fairly stiff until Carpenter decides it is time to arrest someone for being too hot. She has decided on Keery, who has just come off his Djo performance. The crowd becomes electric, and Carpenter rides the enthusiasm into the end of her set.
Carpenter’s performance would have been the fairy tale ending to the first Saturday of ACL; however, the festival experience has not ended, as attendees begin the trek to their cars and Ubers, inevitably shattering the illusion ACL has created. Scalpers scavenge for wristbands, waving cash in the faces of those exiting the festival. A couple of paces down the street, an anti-Israel protest chants “Free Palestine.” Lining the street every couple of blocks are Austin Police Department vehicles with officers in military uniforms and carrying assault rifles, leering into the audience, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
Reality has arrived. Regardless of how hypnotic the performances may have been, the ACL’s promise of community guided by music has come to an end. ACL offers the audience a time to pretend as if the violence, destruction and chaos of the world do not exist. It gives music lovers hope in the moment, before the dangers and instability of reality strike right outside the festival gates.
