The caterpillar has become an extremely pasty butterfly.
  • Liz Hill
  • The pupa has become an extremely pasty butterfly.

Canadians - they're just like us! As Us Weekly would say. So yes, day three came and went, and that magical, all-too-fleeting feeling of "festival nice" finally kicked in, that potent combination of disposable income, booze, and the fact that you're probably only ever going to see these people once in your life so why the fuck not?

So: the Canadians. They were repping the maple leaf flag hard all over the campsite, and our lovely next door neighbors (who did in fact adorably replace "huh" with "eh") kindly invited us to play incomprehensible card games and pre-funk with them yesterday afternoon. Which led to us missing, in order of importance, the following musical acts: tUnE-yArDs, Big Freedia and Tycho. We did somehow manage to catch portions of Kid Cudi's set of emo-hop or whatever the hell he does, as well as the Cold War Kids, of whom all I could think was: "they still exist?" My favorite act of the day was probably Tacocat's afternoon "wake and rock" sesh, for the following reasons, in order of importance: I remember it the best, I love seeing overweight bearded men losing their shit to songs about urinary tract infections, and the lead singer is my boss.

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Tune-Yards: Probably crushed it.
  • Josh Bis
  • Tune-Yards: Probably crushed it.

In summation, I give this particular festival-going experience a "if you don't find me some bottled water soon, I'm going to kill you" out of ten!