Festivals are concerts on Hard Mode. Acoustics and attention work differently outdoors, distractions abound, and no matter who you’re seeing, most of the crowd probably came to see someone else. Veteran performers of coffee shops and clubs are met for the first time by indifference, and they can surprise themselves by leveling up — or bombing — in ways they never imagined.
And sometimes it rains.
Occasionally during Lollapalooza 2026, Hard Mode got cranked up to Legendary. Rain pockmarked the grounds and tested the audience’s resolve, as well as how much they liked their shoes. The schedule shuffled, and for three of the four days pretty much everyone in Grant Park had to stay on their toes.
This was my sixth straight year covering Lollapalooza, and as always my goal was to see as many different artists as I could for 15-20 minutes. I’ll get to the column’s regular features like Best in Fest a bit later, but let’s start with what we learned about the organizers, the audience, and yes, the performers, in the most challenging Lollapalooza since Covid: the Year of the Grant Park Mini-Flood.
Lollapalooza Kept the Ark Floating
Thursday had some lovely weather but most of Friday the clouds spit on us. Friday evening and Saturday that turned into downpours, and fields of already-damaged grounds washed away.
Photo by Joshua Druding
Organizers pushed back opening the gates twice, landing on 3:00 PM. I entered through the media gate 10 minutes beforehand and saw black hoses coiled on the ground and a Badger hydrovac truck parked next to Club Magenta. In the lawn in front of T-Mobile, a skid steer pushed piles of wood chips over open pools of water.
At exactly 3:00, the speakers blasted the theme song from Star Wars: A New Hope. At 3:00:01, a single influencer at the main gate turned an entire crowd into sprinting lemmings.
The young man and his camera operator ran past me onto Columbus Drive — I assumed for the bragging rights of being first, since we still had 30 minutes before the opening sets. But everyone from that gate followed suit, galloping as if they were three hours late to the show. Lolla staffers kept asking “Why are they running?” loud enough for the running kids to hear them.
At the north entrance, everyone walked like well-adjusted adults.
And organizers pretty much pulled it off. They similarly managed Lil Uzi Vert’s sudden cancelation “due to weather” — and on their birthday, what a coincidence. They did show up later for Major Lazer. Meanwhile, Zara Larsson took his pre-headlining slot, which was probably to the liking of the main crowd this year hyped for a run of female powerhouses: Lorde, Charli xcx, Olivia Dean, Tate McRae, plus K-pop, J-pop, and lots and lots of gay pop. (Don’t worry, rock and hip-hop are coming in Best of Fest.)
Photo by Joshua Druding
Lollapalooza also made an honest-to-god improvement that pretty much everyone can agree on: The new midway is a godsend for families, a good time for party hards, and even a fresh photo op for influencers. It’s easily the biggest improvement to the Lolla experience post-pandemic. Is it original? Look, the kids riding the Ferris Wheel, shooting the basketball game, or eating deep-fried Oreos don’t care if this midway was obviously inspired by the midway of a fellow Chicago institution, Riot Fest.
Besides that, Lolla found some solutions for the recurring problem of nobody buying booze. Alcohol real estate near the main stage gave way to another bodega, the sunscreen-and-snack shop that premiered in 2016 but could be hard to find. Organizers also added a traveling bodega cart, and expanded the ice cream carts that debuted last year.
Fun, new amenities, a bit of whimsy among the relentless commerce, and a pretty good job dealing with what the insurance industry used to call an Act of God? Lolla killed it this year.
Best in Fest
Turnstile, photo by Joshua Druding
Best frontman goes to Viagra Boys’ Sebastian Murphy making his Lolla Chicago debut. He growled at us, “Hello Coachella,” and only got funnier from there. His shirtless belly sticking out, his upper ass cheeks flapping majestically with each stomp across the stage, he absolutely tore through “Man Made of Meat,” and then said, “Thank you, fellow 19-year-olds.” Murphy also mocked the Platinum viewing section, asking, “Why is everybody so far away from me except for these nine rich assholes?”
(Best festival buddy goes to my colleague Jonah Krueger, whose setlist research let us start at Lorde, check out a main chunk of Viagra Boys, and be back in time for “girl, so confusing remix” and Charli xcx’s expected surprise appearance. As opposed to the communal Clairo-Doechi pilgrimage last year, I think we’re the only two people who did this particular trek, and I also think it might have been the ideal way to experience Thursday night.)
Best technique goes to the clockwork Clipse, who turned in a late-period Scorsese kind of performance. Pusha and Malice worked all sides of the stage, never ran out of breath, and used pretty much every trick in the veteran’s book to keep the whole wide audience engaged.
Best ensemble goes to Die Spitz, who started after rain delay at 3:30 on the dot with bassist Kate Halter walking out on her hands. All three vocalists gave muscular performances, and instead of commiserating for the rain and the muddy mosh pit, they negged us with, “You’re being lamer than Coachella. Don’t embarrass yourselves.” A wildly talented group, I found myself caught up watching all of them at different times.
Best mosh pit goes to Turnstile, whose live performances are never worse than a B+. And additional kudos to the house camera man who got into the massive pit with those lunatics; it made for great shots on the projector screens, though I sure hope it wasn’t his personal camera.
The Rain Test
Slayyyter, photo by Joshua Druding
When it starts to rain, audience members ask themselves, am I happy here, or would I be happier somewhere else?
The people were happy at Slayyyter, who had a time slot and crowd size similar to Carly Rae Jepsen from a few years ago, except she did it in a constant drizzle. There are a couple of similarities to CRJ: More of a veteran than you might expect given her sudden rise, 29-year-old Slayyyter has a commanding mic presence, a clean tone, and an easy charm. Not my personal favorite set, but she was clearly in communion with her fans.
Just a few hours later, many attendees at the Finn Wolfhard show decided they’d seen enough at the first sprinkle. “I don’t have much to say,” the Stranger Things star said, which felt almost too apt. I got the sense that he hasn’t gone to enough concerts to even notice that other artists use a bunch of tricks to connect to their crowds. His shrunk with every gentle mist. Djo was awful his first time at Lolla too, and has turned into a competent act, so Wolfhard can definitely get better — [show title] have happened.
I saw similar behavior after the rain with Cruz Beckham and the Breakers. I like to go to a few shows totally cold, knowing nothing. I was hoping for breakdancers, but it turned out to be a soccer nepo kid in the middle of bombing. Two women at the front cheered Beckham after every song, and they did it in a way that strongly suggested they might have to console the sulking boy later. While I was watching, every cut ended in silence, except for the rustling of people in rain ponchos standing up to leave.
My Culture (Mall Goth) Is Not Your Costume
Sombr, photo by Joshua Druding
Yungblud is charming but not for me, Sombr I find personally repulsive, and both strike me as a bizarre new archetype, the Jonas Brother who got lost in a Hot Topic.
The 21-year-old Sombr is a breathy singer who relies on his backing track to carry the songs. Even the stage banter underwhelmed. “I’ll see you at my arena show in Chicago,” he said. “I forgot the venue, but it’s in Chicago.” I can see why someone would want to sing one-dimensional love songs and make lots of money, and I can see why someone would want to dress like The Stooges and strut around the stage like Iggy Pimple, but the combination is not for me.
At least Yungblud has real performance chops and some actual charisma. He’s fun to watch, but some of the tough talk hit me as funny: “Listen up motherfuckers, you’re fucking mine now, and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you… and I want you to go fucking crazy for ‘Lovesick Lullaby!'” Fucking A.
I’m a longtime goth. I took the black in 6th grade. And I’m worried about the youth.
Attack of the Chappell Clones
horsegiirL, photo by Joshua Druding
I’ll turn 40 this year, so I’m old enough to remember the years B.C. (Before Chappell), when you could go a whole festival without seeing high-camp fashion, hearing queer quips, or doing themed hand dances. If Chappell Roan never puts out another album she’ll still be the most influential star of her generation.
The Irish songwriter CMAT took up the mantle with her theatrical songs and a bit where she pointed to concert-goers and asked, “Lesbian? Lesbian?” She did this four or five times, but none seemed to be lesbians, and she dropped it without payoff. This shows two things: 1) Those bits are harder than they look, and 2) Even the straights are dressing like Roan.
Horsegiirl and her surprisingly realistic horse head threw a furry-themed rave in the woods, alongside her backup dancer snails — though they later became slugs, and if you kinda understand gastropods, and don’t think too hard, you’ll appreciate the sexiness of the snail to slug transition. Together, they led the crowd in Horsegiirl’s hand dance to, “Eat, sleep, slay, repeat.” This is at least a twist on Roan’s (twist on the “YMCA”), “HOT TO GO!;” Last year I saw acts spelling out words in an imitation that felt much more literal.
That’s not even counting Chappell Roan’s impact on the fashion of the festival-goers. She was everywhere at Lollapalooza, and she didn’t even attend.
Headlines for the Headliners
Lorde, photo by Joshua Druding
Old Hollywood Thursday
Lorde’s 2017 set was rain-shortened, and the weather let her have this year. She has intense eyes and a face expressive enough for old Hollywood. Not the strongest breath control, though; the self-described “witch from New Zealand” keeps the backing track high, at times lip-synching as she moves around stage. Not the most impressive performer, but I feel like I can watch her thinking, and that turns out to be really compelling.
Remember When Friday Night Meant Something?
Charli xcx and Smashing Pumpkins both turned their concerts into capital-E Events. The Pumpkins did it with imposing set pieces and a run of special guests that began with Yungblud, continued through Olivia Rodrigo and Corgan’s total inability to blend with her tone, and ended with a reunion with former bandmate, Melissa Auf der Maur.
And as for Charli xcx, she made a skeptic see God.
The Air Went Out of Saturday Night
The most disappointing night of headliners was led by the smiling, breathy Olivia Dean at one end and a checked-out, breathy Jennie at the other. Dean is a force of personality, just radiating joy, and she spent money on brass and backup dancers to flesh out the sound so she could move around. It wasn’t bad, but Dean was clearly a tier below the rest of the big four headliners.
Still, she was a tier above Jennie from BLACKPINK, who came across as a low-effort dancer and disinterested vocalist who didn’t always bother finishing her phrases. Maybe she was sick, maybe she was under-rehearsed, or maybe she’s just one of those group members who often gets told to stand in the back. But in the 20 minutes I saw, she wasn’t a headliner.
Sunday Night Fever
Sunday night was for the dancers. aespa put on a precision showcase across the lawn before Tate McRae, and then the former competition dancer showed off world-class dancing. That combined with the surprisingly on-breath singing made her the most high-effort, physically impressive performance of the weekend.
On Sunday there was even dancing at the other end of the park, where The xx were combining solo projects and old classics into something that felt familiar, fresh, and groovy. Audience members danced in the Tito’s concrete bowl and across the lawn.
After a weekend of sprinting for cover, checking schedules, and watching the grounds wash out from under them, people finally got to stand still. They kept moving anyway.
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