A man in his twenties was found dead in the camping fields at this past weekend's inaugural Kanrocksas Music Festival. The police department in Kansas City, Kansas, issued a press release on Saturday saying that officials responded to a report of an unresponsive person. The man wasn't breathing and was declared dead on the scene.

Update, 8/9: Police have identified the man as Jeremy C. Formby of Olathe, Kansas. He was 26 years old.

As of this morning, the Police Department has confirmed that no foul play had been involved. A toxicology report is pending. Other than the single death, says Officer Brittanie Pruitt, "We didn't have any major problems at all."

Pat Warren, president of the Kansas Speedway, which hosted the two-day festival, says that he's pleased with how things turned out.

"Six weeks ago, there were a lot of local people concerned about what would happen," Warren says. There was certainly some rowdiness, he acknowledges, but no major problems, all things considered: "We're used to holding big, big events, and when you have big events you have issues."

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Black Keys
Stagesaurus Rex

The infield is packed with people too tired to stand. There's a throng by the stage, obviously, but the middle third of the place is strictly asses on the ground. We're getting to that point, toward the end of any festival, where the anticipation of the glut of music to come is gone. The rock and roll theme park packs up in a few hours and by tomorrow at this time we'll all be back in the real world.

But let's not jump past the Black Keys, a band gaining momentum at such a voracious rate it might not be lunacy to start calling it the latest in a proud, overblown tradition: The Saviors of Rock & Roll.

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Flogging Molly
Stagesaurus Rex

The sun has dipped behind the stands; Kanrocksas One is into the home stretch. Flogging Molly gave the stage security a workout, hauling crowd surfer after crowd surfer over the barrier.

The crowd for the second stage was, as it has been for most of the weekend, filled up to roughly the soundboard. You could walk right up to the stage barrier along the sides. But the Irish punks raised thousands of pulses all the same, ripping through drinking songs and freedom songs and songs to violently jig to. Front man Dave King plays the ass-kicking uncle, jovially introducing each song with its subject matter and words like "tipple" and "biddie." He introduced himself before the final song, saying, "You may know me as America's Next Top Model," and, when we laughed appreciatively, he gave us a gleeful winking, "Fuck you!"

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Stagesaurus Rex

The Nocturnals came out first, laying thud and polished grind. Grace Potter, who knows how to play a moment, came floating out, drawing out a dance around her band before taking up a microphone behind the keys.

There is no musical ground being broken, or even advanced, here. It's smooth riffs and thudding bass and bluesy rock and roll melodies and sex appeal. But this is exactly what you want at a music festival -- music you feel like you know already, even if you don't, music that doesn't require a nuanced mix or subtle mood shifts. You want colossally catchy rock and roll jams stretched to ten minutes and a breakdown where the entire band picks up a stick and starts mashing on the drum kit:

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

The Black Angels | Best Coast
Ad Astra | Stagesaurus Rex

Welcome to Day Two, where I regret to inform you the heat absolutely must be the first thing mentioned. People cower in the thin lines of shade, in the few places there is shade to be had, or stand on the brittle grass and drip sweat. I kicked off my afternoon much as I left last night, with recreational drug enthusiasts Black Angels and Best Coast.

The Black Angles, playing the stage at the track's turn, are a good fit for a speedway -- it is the sound of a roaring engine. The bands whir and chop lost little out in the field. This is my first show at this stage. The layout of this thing encourages wandering from the Main Stage to Stagesaurus Rex, but it takes a little purpose to make your way over to Ad Astra.

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

I stared into the expanse of the Flaming Lips. I bet if I were high or holding a loved one or something, I would say: I stared into the expanse of the universe. It's like that, as anyone who has seen the show can tell you.

You hear about the confetti, the bubble, the hands, the stage dancers in trippy costumes, etc, etc, etc. Less is said about the video montage that sends you rushing into the gaping mouth of predator after predator at warp speed, or the way Steven Drozd says "thank you" in a tiny voice after half the songs. And there's the music, of course - somewhat more languid than you might remember if you'd lain off for a while. It's even more languid live, everything extended into a sing-along jam, some kind of find-your-inner-child hypnotism.

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Major Lazer
Critical Mass Tent

The sun isn't quite set, but it is compulsory dance party time -- the only two shows available in the 8 p.m. to 9 time slot are Bassnectar, entertaining the thousands with club rippers at the Main Stage, and Major Lazer, off in the Critical Mass Tent. DJs Diplo and Switch came out wearing suits, of course, and Diplo told us this was their first trip to the Midwest. Just so you're clear: It ain't all Speedways.

The two DJs aren't actually all that involved the stage show. They stand there, coolly showing us what we want to hear, while a hype man and dancer do the sweating for them. It is seriously hot in there. She is capable of moves that defy the imagination. Observe:

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Kid Cudi
Main Stage

And just like that the people came. Maybe it's that this moment now officially qualifies as the weekend or maybe it's that Kid Cudi is the first truly huge name on a bill that's held together by absolutely nothing if not huge names.

Cudi, who can occasionally be a moody disaster live, was in a sparkling mood: Smirking (by default) out at thousands of hands in the air, he tells us we have been great and that he'll come whenever we need him. "Put up a bat signal or some shit," he suggests.

More >>

Photo by Kiernan Maletsky

Doomtree
Stagesarus Rex

Hello from Kanrocksas, where it took half of one set for me to sweat through my shirt! We got here a few hours after this thing started, and there are hundreds of people sprinkled throughout the infield of the Kansas Speedway. The empty stands stare down; if you can't smell motor oil I'm not the only one who's imagining you can.

More >>