OUTSIDE LANDS DAY 3 RECAP: IT’S A FEMININOMENON!
Photo by Alive Coverage.
Day 3 of Outside Lands was both bittersweet and bitter cold. Fans came in droves before the 4 pm main stage set, the most highly anticipated one of the entire weekend. Shockingly, the headliner was not the one to draw the biggest crowd, but rather, a daytime performance by breakout superstar Chappell Roan is what united everyone at such an early time. The Pink Pony Club flocked to the front of the mainstage, adorned in their best Barbie pink attire as per the instructions of the Midwest Princess herself. The shuttle ride there featured similar energy, as fans mused over the possibilities her set had to offer. I knew this would be the case the moment the lineup dropped, since Chappell Roan is this year’s biggest star, by far and large, surpassing her peers to an unprecedented degree. Still, this budding super starlet didn’t crack under pressure. Instead, she showed up to San Francisco in style, a diamond in the rough, a beacon of light for a famously queer crowd.
Perhaps the most surprising feat of Chappell Roan’s crowd was the united feel it carried. Though one could stereotype, they would be wrong to do so; Roan’s music has been hailed as a Celine Dion of our generation. For a refresher, Dion also amassed a majorly queer following but transcended into the straight world gracefully, arguably bridging the gap between the two using the one true universal language: music. Roan’s quick rise to fame could be seen as a hindrance, but other than publically admitting to a few shortcomings like a lack of privacy as a result of her limelight, she is visibly proud of herself—and she should be. There have been reports of record-breaking crowd sizes at every festival Roan performed at this year. From first-hand experience, it seems as though Outside Lands was no exception to this rule. The entirety of Golden Gate Park was packed; it was the fullest I had seen it the entire weekend, outdoing any of the headliners without even trying.
Outside Lands’ Chappell Roan set happened to fall under the one-year anniversary of the “Hot To Go” music video, which was largely responsible for her rapid rise to superstardom. This already felt symbolic, but Roan solidified the importance in terms of her career by wearing the outfit from the music video, which just so happened to perfectly color coordinate with our beloved Warriors. The rest of her band was adorned in matching colors, a direct nod to the Warriors. Roan has a knack for integrating small nods to the city she’s performing in. If it were not the one-year anniversary of “Hot To Go,” I would have fully expected her to grace the stage dressed as the Golden Gate Bridge.
It is incredible to see diehard fans in their natural habitat. Chappell Roan’s crowd knew every word, every beat, and every movement to every song. It was nothing short of heartwarming to witness history with a dedicated crowd of fans. This was the country-themed lineup, but this Midwest pop Princess did not feel out of place. Many of her fans wore the pink cowboy hats that are sold at her merch booth, adhering to the dress code for the event. I got lucky enough to watch the show from the second row, witnessing history unfold before my eyes, happily dancing along to my generation’s “YMCA.”
However, Chappell Roan didn’t entirely steal the show from the rest of the evening’s performers. Despite the bitter cold weather, fans ran back to the mainstage after a brief intermission to catch powerhouse vocalist Teddy Swims. Adorned in SF Giants attire, Teddy Swims delivered a performance among the caliber one would expect from such a singer. He truly is a singer at his core, with a soulful vocal styling overcoming any potential genre barriers. There is no one like Teddy Swims in the industry right now. He is a unique spirit; a gentle giant who may be a bit rough around the edges, but only lives to express himself to an audience that really gets it. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Teddy Swims before. It was a treat to see him perform a real set, versus briefly taking the mic at a Hollywood nightclub. The world will remember Teddy Swims for decades to follow.
The wildcard set of the day was Post Malone traversing into the deep south, taking a chance at country music. Though not the most forgiving of appearances, country music has an array of sounds and sights for those with eyes to see and ears to hear them. It was refreshing to see Post Malone’s familiar face (and tattoos) singing country hits, accompanied by some major guests like David Lee Murphy and Jimmy Olander. Admittedly, when I began my tenure with Get Some Magazine, I had a strong “NO COUNTRY IN MY INBOX, PLEASE” clause. However, sets like Post Malone’s at Outside Lands prove me wrong. If I am truly to be as open-minded as I claim to be, especially as a critic, I must adjust with the times, or face the fate of “boomerism.” Post Malone has charmed me into rekindling my relationship with country music. Giving the face of country a different look and voice could be crucial for its survival, as many around me agreed with the sentiment. There is plenty of room for Post Malone in the genre, and he may sway some of us with Manic Panic dyed-red hair to these sounds gracefully.
Finally, Sturgill Simpson closed out the evening as the weather became truly unbearable. High winds and dense fog with light rain did not do him any favors, as several rounds took a mass exodus of fans out of Golden Gate Park. Which is unfortunate; the chunk of Simpson’s set that I caught was charming, lively, and overall incredibly impressive. His sheer musicianship proved why he secured the headlining slot at a festival outside of his usual delegation. Though unfamiliar with his music, I was guided to check out some songs on the way home, adding some to my playlists and once again admitting to being wrong about something—a difficult feat for this stubborn Capricorn critic. Simpson charmed me entirely; dancing to his music was the only thing keeping me warm enough in the sheltered media tent to stay past 9 o’clock. I then took the hike back to the shuttle busses, where masses of fans were still at the Pink Pony Club, at least mentally. A singalong broke out once we had all defrosted.
As they say, “the coldest winter I ever felt was the summer I spent in San Francisco.”
… but it was worth every second and every shiver!