Coney Island, NY July 20
Reviewed by Mike Lisk
Shoot the Freak: The Second Annual Siren Music Festival (Coney Island, July
20)
There were bad omens as I headed out to the Second Annual Siren Music Festival at Coney Island on July 20. First, the brakes went on the train I took during the first leg of my journey through north Jersey. Then, when I hit lower Manhattan, a transformer fire had caused a power failure and no trains were running. As people and cars careened chaotically through intersections without working traffic lights, I seriously thought about jumping back on the PATH train and going home. But I persevered and, after crossing town on foot, found trains running to Brooklyn on the lower east side.
By the time I got out to Coney Island, the YEAH YEAH YEAHS were just finishing their set. With all the press they've been generating, I was curious to see what the fuss was all about. Unfortunately, I was too late. From what I've heard, they're supposed to be a lot of fun live. Their recently released self-titled EP would hardly suggest this. Sure, there are signs of promise, but it's not the major revelation some critics would have you believe (the best song, "Our Time, " is yet another homage to the VELVET UNDERGROUND--the predictable rite of passage for bands from N.Y. these days).
The first band I saw was THE SHINS. Their last album, "Oh, Inverted World," was a personal favorite. Unfortunately, their delicate pop sensibility, a sort of cross between XTC and SIMON & GARFUNKEL, was no match for the rumbling Cyclone roller coaster adjacent to the stage. "Know Your Onion!" shone through, though, and even inspired one lone bare-chested hipster into bouncing up and down in the ninety-degree heat. No small feat.
Next up was THE DONNAS. Their female variation on the classic RAMONES sound stirred up a cyclone of its own. Four sexually-aggressive young women complaining about their boring boyfriends certainly beats the Britney/Christina alternative, no? For the time being, they're certainly more fun (particularly the scary bass-playing Donna who barks out bizarre non-sequiturs in-between songs).
SLEATER-KINNEY, on the other hand, was no fun at all. Over the years, I've faithfully bought their critically acclaimed CDs, and over the years, they've been faithfully collecting dust. Sure, they'd like to rock out, but their limited instrumental prowess and screechy off-key vocals is a real drawback. Then again, I'm not an overly earnest, backpack-wearing young woman, their intended target audience. But as I walked out mid-set, they didn't seem to be having much fun either. When did going to a rock show get so serious?
Since I didn't know when or if I'd ever get back to Coney Island, I decided that I had to ride the Cyclone and eat a Nathan's hot dog before I left. The Cyclone is great. For a 75-year-old roller coaster, it's still a thrilling experience (you get banged around so much, it's hard to walk away without bruised knees. According to a friend, it's not particularly easy on your breasts either.). The hot dog was great, too. But something strange occurred while I was chowing down. I kept hearing a faint call to "shoot the freak." At first I thought it was one of those annoying computer games that repeat their obnoxious come-ons over and over. Then I realized that it was actually coming from a cavity between Nathan's and the next boardwalk concession stand. Curious, I strolled over to see what it was. Perched along the edge of a deep crater between the buildings, the barker encouraged passersby to participate in Coney Island's "hottest attraction." Then, in the distance, I saw a midget (or child!) covered head to foot in helmet and protective gear, bearing a paint-splattered shield and running for cover between strategically placed objects. "Shoot a living target," the barker repeated over and over, "shoot the freak." Only in Coney Island.
SHOOT-BACK HERE!
