TVD Live: Lollapalooza at Grant Park, 7/30

3:32 PM: A herd of teens (probably around 30 of them) leap the Lollapalooza perimeter barricades just south of Balboa. It wouldn’t be Lolla without some fence jumpers. “Go kids! I believe in you!” screams one passerby.

4:18 PM: Blueser Jacob Banks is midway through a soulful set at the LakeShore Stage.

4:41 PM: The married duo of Elephant Heart remind me of a kinder, gentler version of Die Antwoord. Or maybe they’re like a world music Sylvan Esso? Regardless, the crowd is grooving.

5:15 PM: It’s his city; it’s his stage: Polo G is dominating. So much so that a commemorative Lolla aluminum water bottle pelts me in the shoulder while I’m in the photo pit. This is not the first time I’ve seen the special aluminum bottles launched into the air from the crowd. (By Saturday, Lolla’s valiant efforts to eliminate plastic by getting people to reuse their water bottles are finished. Too many have served as weapons, I overhear one bar volunteer say to another. “People were flinging them. It was dangerous.”)

5:26 PM: I’m really enjoying Elohim’s set. It’s a big self-love dance party. “I think we all need to be a little nicer to ourselves,” she declares to loud cheers.

5:40 PM: Number of young women I’ve seen cry-yelling at their boyfriend because they took off without them count: 4.

6:17 PM: I mix up my stages and end up at Arizona Zervas instead of White Reaper. Whoops. It’s cool, though, as it’s always fun to check out a new artist and the crowd is definitely vibin’.

6:39 PM: Boy Pablo is charming AF. Chilean–Norwegian singer songwriter Nicolas Muñoz is the only member of his band who was granted a work Visa into the US, so he’s flying solo. Overcoming his nerves, he dances around the stage singing his heart out. I’m rooting for him and so is everyone else.

6:53 PM: “You just witnessed the first drag show ever at Lollapalooza,” Rock Evans declares to a growing crowd at the Bonus Tracks Stage. It’s the Best of Chicago Drag hour (and easily a weekend highlight). People are readying their dollar bills for the next performer.

7:35 PM: It’s that time of day when the sun is the most beautiful and the crowd is the most drunk. People are dropping like flies. Roddy Rich is finishing up his set when medics whiz past me wheeling a girl while her friend trails. “See!” The girls screams at her friend, “Now I feel fine and we’re gonna miss Jack Harlow’s whole fucking set!”

7:43 PM: Harlow fans are getting antsy and “I’m getting pushed like a mother fucker and I don’t want to puke,” one rail rider explains while lighting a blunt.

7:44 PM: “Daddy!” chants. Another photographer and I exchange looks—is this a thing? Do people call Jack Harlow “Daddy”?! W T F.

8:00 PM: Harlow doesn’t let people forget about the last time he played Lollapalooza. The Louisville rapper reminds the massive crowd that barely anyone showed. “Look at us now.”

8:45 PM: “Fuck me up Tyler!” someone screams. It’s about to go down.

8:58 PM: Tyler, the Creator is taking us through his evolution as an artist via costume changes, lighting cues, and anecdotes. Also, there’s a badass boat on the stage.

9:04 PM: Tyler is the real deal. He’s commanding the headlining spot with ease and finesse.

9:49 PM: I’ve found myself at Marshmello’s headlining set on the north end of Grant Park. It seems that the worse the sound, the bigger the pyrotechnics.

10:03 PM: That’s all she wrote for Lollapalooza Friday. I walk out behind two teens holding hands. “I’m so drunk and so high I can barely see,” one admits. A fitting ending to the day.

JACOB BANKS