Photos By Azeez Bakare
Words By Jeb Gavin
Like I told some friends stuck in a Gruen transfer just inside the gates, don’t think of Trillectro as a music festival or concert- treat it like a block party and you’ll be fine. You treat it like a block party so when you stand in line for 20 minutes at will call, and then another 40 in line to get in, you don’t feel like you’ve wasted your time. You treat it like a block party so when Wale gets on stage you accept he’ll do two songs and spend the rest of his set shouting out dozens of friends and local rappers he brought with him on stage. You treat it like a block party because you’re gonna wait forever to get something to eat, but you’re probably going to end up eating oxtail and beef patties, and it’ll be worth it.
The block-long lot has enough space for two stages, but not without some crossover and confusion. Even beyond the sound washing up against itself trapped on all sides by cargo containers, there’s just his maw of youthful humanity milling about. Dayglo kids were strewn along the edges, sitting on the asphalt, popping up for Nada or Tittsworth or which-whatever DJ they came to see and fading back into the periphery when they didn’t fancy the music.
Excepting the clusterfuck that was getting in, my only real disappointment of the night were folks leaving right before Carnage closed things out. He’s a local guy, and a hell of a DJ, one of the few who could mix “Black Skinheads” and Flux Pavilion’s “I Can’t Stop” in the same set without it sounding like pandering to the crowd. Not everyone left, but it was noticeable, and I doubt all of them were rushing over to the Howard Theatre for the after party.
It was nice to see Dave’s mom again though, and her empanadas are still on point.
Photos By Priscilla de Lima Ledesma