When I saw a flower crown being held aloft in the circle pit during Die Spitz’ set, I knew that there was something special happening at Daisy Chain Fields. It was a fitting image for the inaugural one-day event, as 45,000 people braved Saturday’s extreme heat in order to experience Olivia Rodrigo’s first ever music festival. With radical sets from an all-women lineup, the fest cultivated a perfect mix of loving communal energy, fundraising, and pure female rage, and let a stacked slate of performers shine.
Last year, Rodrigo appeared as a talking head in Lilith Fair: Building A Mystery, the documentary about Sarah McLachlan’s touring festival. The fest, which ran from 1997 to 1999, was a genuinely revolutionary event at a time when concert promoters often refused to book two women on the same bill and radio promoters shied away from playing songs by women back-to-back. You could perhaps see a teeny gleam in Rodrigo’s eye in that Lilith Fair doc, and less than a year later, she curated a girls-to-the-front festival of her very own: Daisy Chain Fields, a one-day event in Irvine, California with a lineup comprising both elder stateswomen (Bikini Kill, The Breeders) and fresh talent (Die Spitz, Doechii, Chappell Roan), with all of the proceeds going toward organizations that benefit women and girls.
Southern California was on the last day of a heatwave that Katseye, the girl group who had to drop out of the fest last-minute after member Megan Skiendiel sprained an ankle, might describe as “gnarly.” The temperature was already in the high 80s when I made it to Great Park, whose big orange balloon was adorned with a white daisy for the occasion. The grounds had been spiffed up to match the feminist theme of the day: a walkway painted with tidbits about figures from women’s history, two stages decorated with buttons that showed the names of the organizations for which Daisy Chain Fields was raising money, a pink mural emblazoned with a text by Jenny Holzer that made for a great photo opp.
I was just in time to catch some dreamy electronic-folk from Quiet Light, who had two backup dancers in filmy pink dresses that reminded me of ice skating costumes, as well as Eli, whose excitement at being on the bill manifested in a series of enthusiastic screams and nonsequiturs (“I’m on stage, girl!” “I need to talk to the press…”). She showed a tremendous range in a short period of time, everything from ‘00s club pop to sensitive throwback R&B to an interpolation of J-Kwon’s “Tipsy.” On my way to see Rachel Chinouriri, I tried to visit one of the most intriguing brand activations, a Taco Bell ‘Live Más Cafe’ that was slinging a special pink Baja Blast in honor of Olivia Rodrigo’s latest album, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love. The drink was officially called “You Seem Pretty Pink for a Baja Blast,” and I wanted one badly, partially because I have a perverse interest in brand activations, and partially because I wanted to drink something cold. Alas, the line was long, snaking around several other brand activations, everyone waiting patiently. I consoled myself by getting in a much shorter line for one of the fest’s art installations, “Fata Morgana (Lost And Found)” by Kelly Wall, a mirrored penny press that let you take a selfie (“while questioning the signs and symbols one looks to for guidance in life”), then receive a special souvenir.
Photo by Anna Downs
On the Marigold Stage, Rachel Chinouriri breezed through her alt-pop bangers with an enormous smile. I loved her rendition of “Never Need Me,” which gained increased dimension and power with the live band. Then, it was back to the Dandelion Stage for Devon Again, the artist who stepped up after Katseye dropped out. The lineup had no overlapping sets, which was great for the conflict-averse, but it meant a lot of hustling back and forth through the park in order to fit everything in. And thank God I made it! Devon Again, an artist on Dan Nigro’s label Amusement Records who’s opening for Olivia Rodrigo on her “Unraveled Tour” this fall, absolutely crushed her last-minute set. With dip-dyed blue hair and ripped fishnet tights, she played a fascinating genre mash-up: twangified alt-pop with massive choruses that reminded me of ‘90s crossover country. Songs like “People v. Maryanne Sue” and “snake the drain” answered the question, “What if you crossed Shania Twain and Haley Williams?” Or, perhaps, “What if there was a fourth Chick in The Chicks who was also kind of a scene kid?” I also enjoyed how much Devon Again likes singing about junk food — I heard lyrics about Red Bull, Skittles, and cherry cola.
Much less sweet and a lot more sour was Die Spitz, the Austin rock band that’s been having a hell of a year. Another upcoming opening act for Rodrigo, the four-piece brought the rage to their Marigold Stage set, spinning out a heady mix of spiky punk and sludgy metal for a crowd of adoring fans. (I saw a ton of people wearing their I HATE WHEN GIRLS DIE merch all through the day.) Not wanting to pass up a mosh pit at a festival attended by mostly women — it’s been eight years since I decided to sit out the all-girl pit at FIDLAR’s Coachella set, and I still regret it — I got in the mix when the tempo picked up. “That was the softest mosh pit ever,” I heard a man scoff. Well, to quote the title of one of Katseye’s EPs, Soft Is Strong, babe.
I had to skip Santigold because I saw the food lines creeping longer and longer, and sensed that if I didn’t eat lunch then, I never would. Armed with a jumbo chicken skewer from a women-owned Filipino BBQ stand, I got back just in time for Bikini Kill. Now, I will be the first to tell you I think “mother” as a music artist epithet is a little overused. But when Kathleen Hanna took the stage in a pink and white dress and started yelling, I thought, “Oh… THAT’S mother.” “This government fuckin’ hates us and wants us dead,” Hanna said before the band played a single note. “They don’t care if our rights are taken away, they’re ripping people off the streets… it makes it hard for me, in my body sometimes, to have a good time.” This was a common theme of the day. It’s always a tricky thing to acknowledge the bad stuff happening in the world while simultaneously celebrating the fun everyone’s hopefully having. The general message seemed to be ‘take this energy and run with it,’ and from the crowd reactions throughout the day, everyone seemed behind that call to action. “I just wanna have fun like it’s a basement party!” Hanna concluded before the band tore up songs like “Rebel Girl” and “Feels Blind.” They were a perfect choice from Rodrigo, as it’s safe to say none of the younger acts on the list would exist in the same way without Bikini Kill.
Photo by Cynthia Parkhurst
By this point, the heat was getting a little hallucinatory, and the festival became a blur of t-shirts that said things like BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM and SOUNDS GAY… I’M IN!, of faded Lilith Fair tank tops and baggy overalls spangled with buttons and pins, of whisky strawberry horchata and vegan hot dogs. Mitski appeared in a yellow checked dress for a set that felt a tad somber in the blazing heat. It’s hard to get people pumped up with a song like “I Bet On Losing Dogs” on a good day, and with the “feels like” temperature at 95°F, it was going to be just about impossible. Between songs, Mitski hoped for future renditions of the fest: “So, we can all say that we were at the first Daisy Chain Fields… I’m OG DCF.” Across the park, The Breeders had a small but mighty crowd; Kim Deal wore a sweet Shirley Chisholm “UNBOUGHT AND UNBOSSED” campaign shirt, and the band shredded through plenty of old songs (the majority of the festival attendees were definitely born way after Last Splash came out), plus a couple new ones (“Alien Eyes” had a pleasantly twitchy aura). “You just got here?,” Deal joshed some people in the audience before playing “Cannonball.” “Ah, they’ve been here the whole time.”
It was up to Doechii to bring everyone out of their collective stupor — and that she did, with the most dynamic and virtuosic performance of the day. She stepped, she vogued, she twerked, she made the audience repeat mantras like “I love money / And money loves me!,” she bent over backwards while rapping 100 miles a minute, and she did it all with her skin painted fluorescent pink. Though she wove in elements of familiar songs throughout her set — Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop (That Thing)”, “U.N.I.T.Y.” by Queen Latifah, “AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM” by Beyoncé — Doechii made the stage entirely her own, bringing the crowd energy up by a factor of 10 and proving she is more than ready for any headliner slot thrown her way.
Photo by Laura Austin
Despite some apparent technical problems, Garbage sounded great. Three days past her 60th birthday, Shirley Manson delivered plenty of wisdom (“When you tell the truth, you find your people… enjoy your fucking weird self!”) and interpolated Bikini Kill’s “Rebel Girl” during “Stupid Girl,” which was a lovely link in the daisy chain. Speaking of technical problems, the fest logistics worked out surprisingly well for the first whack at such an enormous gathering, but the food lines were definitely an issue. I was hearing about people waiting for over an hour for food, and later in the day, my friend showed me a photo she took of her long-awaited struggle meal, a buffalo chicken sandwich missing its top piece of bread. A few extra chow zones would have probably been nice. If we’re doing revolution girl style now, we must remember an army marches on its stomach.
As the sun finally began to set, everyone was hot and ready to go for Chappell Roan. Her 40-minute set didn’t offer much room for messing around, just a parade of her smashes, from “HOT TO GO!” to “Pink Pony Club.” “Only the hits today!” she sighed before starting “Good Luck, Babe!” What did she wear, pray tell? By now, we all know the Midwest Princess loves a statement-making festival look, and every time I think I’ve seen it all, she comes up with something that shocks me anew. For Daisy Chain, she took the stage in a deconstructed lavender skirt suit and a sleek bob. She looked sort of like if Leeloo from The Fifth Element was a retro stewardess? Unreal. The only other lineup casualty for me was Not For Radio, which I sacrificed in favor of sitting down for the first time all day. I hope María Zardoya’s icy melodies chilled everyone out nicely.
Last was Olivia Rodrigo, whose set was exactly the triumphant victory lap you would imagine for someone who just raised $10 million (a figure matched onstage by Melinda Gates, bringing the total to $20 million) for organizations that support reproductive rights, combat gender-based violence, and more. Incandescent in a white dress and flower armband, Rodrigo treated the absolutely rabid crowd to a thrilling set — there were the undeniable songs from previous albums (“good 4 u,” “bad idea right?”), but also a nice chunk of you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, which sounded robust thanks to Rodrigo’s sizable band. Rodrigo said she was having the best day of her life, and honestly, she looked like she was telling the truth. She played her new single, “serena joy,” for the first time, got the men in the audience to sing the goofy bridge to “Expectations,” and told everyone to think of something that made them angry before doing a huge group scream at the end of “all-american bitch.” Then, there was the parade of incredible guests. Rodrigo sang “Building A Mystery” and “Angel” (the latter dedicated to Dolly Parton) with a truly radiant-looking Sarah McLachlan. She then briefly bummed us out by announcing Karen O was no longer able to attend before whipping out a wonderful surprise in Alanis Morissette, with whom she sang “Ironic.” I apologize for anyone who was near me during the “10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife” line, I had to sing my truth there. And the festival closed with a beautiful duet of “Landslide” with Stevie Nicks, whose final harmonies momentarily silenced the crowd, sending a welcome wave of chills after such a sweltering day.
Final Daisy Chain Fields assessment? There were some logistics issues, but the overall mood in the crowd was congenial, if not ecstatic. Whether it was seeing people make room in the crowd so kids could go on their parents’ shoulders, hearing people actually say excuse me while moving past (this was the least pushy festival I have been to in years, holy shit), or watching countless groups of young women take beaming group pics at the various art installations, there was something genuinely moving about how people behaved on this day. I was reminded that festivals infuse their vibes from the top down, the ultimate ‘Treat People How You Want To Be Treated’ situation; Olivia Rodrigo clearly put a lot of care into Daisy Chain Fields, from the curated lineup to the decorated grounds, and in turn, attendees seemed to act with respect and engage with the music (and, yes, the branded activations) with joy. If this can happen with 45,000 people in one day, imagine what else could be done? After wrapping up her set, Rodrigo thanked everyone for coming, and, beaming, said the four magic words: “See you next year.”
