By: Bridget Lawrence

In its second year, the Treasure Island Music Festival in San Francisco avoided the sophomore slump by booking a diverse group of performers. Listening to live music on an island in the bay, framed by the backdrop of the city skyline, was a pretty perfect way to spend a weekend.

The festival was blessed by sunshine and a very windy two days of blue skies. The two stages — Bridge and Tunnel — were well-planned so there would be no overlap between sets, and that’s exactly how it was, with the crowd racing over to the other stage at the final chord, carefully dodging picnic baskets and people relaxing. With such a large mix of music — 24 groups organized back-to-back-to-back — the festival made sure there wasn’t any downtime. If you weren’t securing a spot in the crowd at the front of one of the stages, you could be doing all manner of fun things — participating in a treasure hunt, drinking soju cocktails, buying Obama t-shirts, composting for points and prizes, participating in an art project, even getting your hair cut and styled. Where else but at this pirate-themed event could you purchase a baby blue eye patch, then ride in a giant Ferris wheel 60 feet above the grounds and the bay? Avast, indeed!

Saturday: “I just came here to bounce.”

The first group I was able to catch on Saturday was Aesop Rock, whose aggressive hip-hop and scratching beat got everyone’s heads bouncing in the early afternoon sunshine. Unlike the hip-hop diva cliché, Aesop Rock aims to not project a particular image, focusing instead on thought-provoking, clever lyrics backed by exotic hooks.

A flock of pelicans flew over the Tunnel stage, while Nortec Collective: Bostich + Fussible got the crowd clapping to their eclectic and upbeat “el mariachi“-themed film music. The wind kept blowing their cowboy hats off their heads, as they jammed with all sorts of instruments. A trumpet solo rose above the rhythms of their music, sounding out across the gathered crowd and into the bay’s waves.

The energetic African beats of Antibalas was a worthy next act. I chose to ride the Ferris wheel while listening to this inventive 12-person ensemble. Even though the festival grounds were much smaller and narrower than at Outside Lands, there was no sense of huge crowds and chaos. From up high, everyone below seemed to be having a good time, chilling out on picnic blankets, eating and drinking, and appreciating all the booths and art displays.

Back on the ground, at the smaller and solar-powered Tunnel stage, it was time for The Foals – a five-man group from the UK — to get us dancing. They definitely got the indie kid crowd moving to their extremely energetic and lively Brit rock ‘n’ roll. These musicians, all in tight black jeans, hardly stopped moving during their entire set, hitting drums, thrashing their guitars, and sweating hard, while furiously spitting out perfectly hummable dance-rock gems. They reminded me of what the musical child of Bloc Party and Franz Ferdinand would sound like. Even the sound going out for a moment didn’t slow down the crowd’s frenzy. Everyone kept clapping and shouting for more until it came back on.

The Foals then passed the musical dancing baton to fellow Brits Hot Chip, who started on the main Bridge stage less than five minutes later. The audience was very much looking forward to seeing what this popular group of electro-pop music blenders would do live, out of the studio. Like mad scientists, Hot Chip created a mix of all sorts of musical genres, from retro TV theme songs to cheesy ‘80s pop, to danceable club beats, mashing them together into their own uniquely catchy indie-rock genre. Their music was, in part, instantly familiar and new all at once. They even covered Sinead O’Conner’s “Nothing Compares to You” and made it seem fresh. The crowd adored every minute of these indie-lectro Brits, and it was hard not to smile while listening to their remix creations live, with the full sound of instruments and computer meddling.

Perhaps I was influenced by the island, but I could have sworn that DJ Amon Tobin mixed a foghorn into his dark and industrial electronica set. Standing all alone in a brown hoodie, Tobin was the maestro of all samples ambient, brooding and mysteriously dark. At one point, I felt as if I was underwater, deep down in Davey Jones’s locker, buried in the DJ’s cinematic undercurrents.

Alison Goldfrapp’s ethereal, haunting voice pulled me and the crowd back to the Bridge stage, just as the sun was beginning to descend. During a wind-whipped set where her multi-colored ribbon dress and golden hair were playfully tossed about, Goldfrapp played selections from their most recent lovely album, Seventh Tree, building into the more glam and electro glitz of early albums exemplified by the hit song, “Ooh La La.” The audience was entranced by the spell of the groovy bass, heavy rhythms, and her siren-smooth vocals, while the instruments and mic stands seemed to be reverting back to nature, covered in veins and flowers. Live Goldfrapp is just as full and sensuous as the various albums, and the kooky stage touches, such as two stuffed owls perched on an amp “watching” the proceedings, added more quirkiness.

Mike Relm, a local San Francisco mash-up DJ (and VJ), got all the kids dancing to his fun and hyper mash-up set. Dressed in a suit and tie that first hid his playfulness, and standing behind a laptop, Relm spared no song from his mashing clutches, from the “Charlie Brown Theme” to The Beastie Boys, to Rage Against the Machine to Gorillaz. He even scratched along live to the songs, to the delight of the cheering crowd. At one point, two more DJs joined the party, wearing suits and bizarre clown masks, keeping the fun going, each moment with a new song butting into the old. It was infectious.

With the sun asleep and the wind continuing relentlessly, the only way to stay warm was to dance. Fortunately, Brazilian club rockers CSS, led by the rambunctious lead singer LoveFoxxx and the audio-visual beat assault of headliners Justice, were the two final acts.

As infectious and energetic as CSS was, with Love Foxxx’s Bjork-like shimmery puffball of a dress giving one the feel of constant movement and energy, I only caught the first half of their set, as the majority of the crowd was moving over to the Bridge stage, anticipating the beginning of the show by Two French DJs and a glowing cross.

Two French DJs doesn’t do them justice, pun intended, as their bangin’ remixes of dance hits (Justin Timberlake and Daft Punk, to name two) and their electro-hard rock anthems, combined with synthetic choruses, have burst them into the dance floor stratosphere. Everyone wants to be swept away by their awesome dark and dirty live shows, and the crowd at Treasure Island was no exception. As the iconic, illuminated cross flashed into the dark night to the synthesized opening chords of “Genesis,” it was impossible not to surrender to the grandiose sound of Justice. Glow-sticks were thrown and no one was left standing still, as the intense, strobe-like light show, perfectly matched to the driving music and the tower of amplifiers on each side of the large flashing cross, ruled the dancing masses. Justice completely controlled the willing crowd, turning off the sound at one point so everyone could join in on the chorus of “We Are Your Friends,” or working everyone up into a chaotic dancing mass of bodies during their remixed hit, “D.A.N.C.E.” What Gaspard Auge and Xavier de Rosney do so well is mix and add textures and layered beats to their already epic dance-rock songs, making their live shows a highly intense experience. I couldn’t help thinking, while I danced, how great a French rock-off would be between Justice and their cross and Daft Punk and their pyramid.

Nearly ten hours later, the lights had dimmed and feet-fatigue was setting in on the thousands of festival-goers, although they still had enough energy to sing along to Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline,” as they headed toward the bio-diesel-run shuttle buses. Here was another example of this smoothly run festival: Everyone patiently waited their turn in the huge shuttle line, no drunken, passed-out fans in sight. Free ice cream bars from the Ice Cream Man definitely helped with that.

Sunday: “I love the rock and roll.”

Where Saturday on the Island was more about DJs and their laptops and synthesized beats, Sunday was definitely a day about rock ‘n’ roll in all its many guises. The wind was colder, but the sun stayed out all day — a perfect accompaniment to the triumphant return of Spiritualized. The lead singer and heart of this British band, Jason Pierce, nearly died a few years ago, and this melodic space rockin’ band hadn’t toured the States for years before that. So it was really nice to see them back and sounding so together. The floaty blessed-out hymns of ”Ladies and Gentlemen…” still sounded druggy and lovely, and stood up well with the more atmospheric rock of the newer album, Songs in A&E. The music swirled perfectly around Pierce’s Oasis/Verve-like vocals and the back-up singers’ gospel harmonies.

The minute the last chord ended, The Dodos hit the stage with their percussion-heavy, folk-pop style. This bay area duo has been touring constantly, and the hard work seems to have paid off, with a very tight and polished live show. They make performing look effortless and fun, and look like they are having a great time with their psychedelic indie-rock. They play all sorts of instruments, from a glockenspiel to a trombone, to a trash can (!) — succeeding in getting the won-over audience to bop their heads and clap along to their catchy sing-songy sounds and Meric Long’s smooth vocals.

Everyone then rushed over to see the most talked-about indie band of 2008, Vampire Weekend. While the crowd definitely enjoyed their set, and I still have their songs stuck in my head days later, their live show wasn’t much different from their extremely catchy and well-crafted debut CD. Their blend of indie-pop tossed with some Paul Simon Afro rhythms and a dash of The Royal Tenanbaums is so upbeat and familiar, it’s impossible not to hum along. Maybe after touring for a longer time they’ll craft a live show as effortlessly exciting as their musical creations promise.

Dr. Dog got the Sunday sunset spot, and I could not have imagined a better match. The golden light combined with their ‘60s pop harmonies, reminiscent of The Beach Boys, made a carefully chill sound that floated through the crowd, motivating them to bop their heads to the rhythms. This Philadelphia quartet had the look of west-coast surfer/slackers, and their inventive pop-rock style reinforced that laid-back, harmonious vibe.

The cute pop songs and silly back-and-forth banter of twin sisters Tegan and Sara were next. These darling indie-poets clearly enjoy an audience. Whether singing their catchy lyrics over rocking guitar hooks or telling stories about getting arrested, they brought an enthusiasm and charisma to the male-dominated event.

Bringing rock to its darkest place during the night was the no-holds-barred sexy swagger of The Kills. Consisting of violent guitar thrashing Hotel and the raw strong vocals of lead singer VV, who paced like a caged animal on the blue lit stage, their punk rock blues set was completely addictive and totally entrancing.

By the end of the night, the sold-out crowd was amped and ready for Jack White and Brendan Benson’s super group, The Raconteurs, to rock those blues away…and rock and roll it away they did. The energy was palatable, as they took the stage and continued to add to that excitement and push it into the heavens. Jack White, adored singer of The White Stripes, went from untouchable rock star belting out vocals to singing the blues in soulful piano ballads, his voice effortlessly trading songs with Brendan Benson. This final performance of the festival had a pure easy joy to it, as if a group of friends were gathering around in a pal’s basement, enjoying strumming their guitars and singing some rock ‘n’ roll-tinged blues together.

The Raconteurs put the cap on an extremely satisfying collection of performances over a quick-moving, jam-packed two days. As I think back on all the various musical styles and sights, I find myself feeling overwhelmed with the collection of talent that was on display. Treasure Island has proven itself to be a must-attend festival for any fan of music (or Ferris wheels). To complete this review with a pirate metaphor — it was a genuine treasure trove.

To veiw all photographs from festival, click here.