In a jumble of misunderstood credential arrangements, I arrived at the Popped! Philadelphia music festival last Saturday more or less as a spectator with a photo pass. No interviews, no all-access backstage pass, no video cameras, and not even an idea to give the Phillyist world an artsy camera perspective of the small details involved in being there. Despite my skepticism of the changed nature of this festival, and the frustratingly unorganized course leading up to it, Saturday, no question, was a success.

Saturday was the big day of indie superstars that received some of the biggest font on Popped! flyers, and even looking at the bill, I failed to remember that some of these performers were some of the most interesting in their field. As soon as acts like Hoots & Hellmouth, Dan Deacon, Gogol Bordello and Crystal Castles took the stage, I realized that these acts were known, and partly popular for their live performances.

Take Dan Deacon for example. I’ve seen him in the basement of the First Unitarian Church, but take that very same act outdoors, and he becomes a loveable gym teacher in an elementary school playground. Every kid adores his ridiculous “Simon says,” type routine, asking the crowd to point to the ground, look at their hand, and slowly squat toward the ground. Even more fun was creating an empty oval pit in the crowd, asking someone to run around the contained edges, gradually taking someone along, and having that person take someone with them, until there was an elliptical running of the adolescents. The capper was the creation of a human tunnel, London Bridge style, arms above the head, connected hand-in-hand with someone across from you. Running through this gigantic tunnel was a giggle-fest for anyone involved.

Showing the best of showmanship in the festival was Gorgol Bordello. Front man Eugene Hütz has a stage presence and cut body to recall an Iggy Pop that grew up among gypsies. Alongside his troupe of odd characters, they pumped adrenaline through an audience that screamed lyrics and pumped fists. I couldn’t help but think, if these characters weren’t playing instruments, I would think they need some... assistance getting in touch with the world. But all is fine here, with Terminator glasses and a body-less violin, Hütz is the entire drunken culture vagabond that he’s built up to be in the website bios. I can’t wait to read his biography... everything about him seems to represent something. I’d ask, “Where did you get that gold tooth?” “Why do you wear a sling-shot around your neck?” and about his path into the mainstream. I talked to a close friend of the Hütz's, who said he was always the same way, and held the same attitude at the festival as at basement shows. Surely, Gogol's members have as many stories as could be imagined.

I missed Crystal Castles when they played Making Time in Philly a while ago, and I've listened to their music, but had no idea they'd be this impressive a live act. I expected all the '80s video game effects and yelling of "Alice Practice," but Alice Glass is a monster of a front-woman, of a retro electro-disco act, no less. Everything she said seemed to come from her gut; she paraded around stage looking exhausted and worried, but only as a set up for freak outs and rebellious vocal outbursts. She interacted with the crowd, joined the crowd, and the beats were loud as needed with the accompaniment of a drummer.

And then there is Vampire Weekend. It was only three or four months ago that the collective indie rock-listening college crowd was impressed by their diversity and off-the-wall pop-rock stylings. But more recently, they’ve been smirk-worthy—the band that was cool to not accept. I’d be remiss if I didn’t embrace some skepticism of these new MTV faves. These kids with Ivy League roots have influences that don’t reflect their preppy climate, but in this age of information where you grow up doesn’t determine what you listen to. Going off this idea of Internet gateways, they are a baby band, and don’t really know how to rock on stage. The quality of their music precedes typical stage antics—smiling, looking cute, acting cute... standing at the keyboard. But lucky for Vampire Weekend, the ability to create great pop songs is enough to get people to enjoy themselves, and in that way, the Popped! headliner delivered to the largest audience of the day.

Take out the idea that this was a festival for an exclusive indie crowd, or what have you, because it wasn’t. Yes, lots of people were dressed appropriately for the occasion (Fashion that says “I just woke up from a nap I took in 1995, and stepped outside, unaware that the world has moved on. I chalk up my accessories to practicality!”), but it wasn’t as if people weren’t into enjoying what they paid for. People clapped enthusiastically for every band, did the twist to “A-Punk,” by Vampire Weekend, and made the Philly concert-going scene look alive.

Admittedly, by the end of it all, I was humming the guitar line of “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa,” and saying “ba dananana... Peter Gabriel...” because I don’t know any of the other words. Seven sun burnt hours after the 1PM start time, as a spectator with a photo pass, I could see how much fun everyone was having. Even though this isn’t a Philadelphia festival that helps Philadelphia support its band scene, it is something of a well-calculated success.

Check back later for more photos.

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