Beginning life in 2004 as McDowell Mountain Music Festival, the fest's undergone a few changes. (Not only was the name streamlined, but the fest was formerly located at both Margaret T. Hance Park and the Compound Grill before landing at Steele Indian School Park in 2024.) Yet what's always remained is the prevailing sense of community and an ongoing commitment to culture. Whether it's raising more than $6 million for local charities, serving as a hub for local music or giving space to the freaks and geeks, M3F has never wavered in its mission.
So, yes, it put on a generally stacked lineup that entertained and dazzled (while showing the world the city can organize national-tier events). But it also affirmed why Phoenix is so great: People can gather amid the mud and muck and let each other commune around basic ideas of civil responsibility and the uplifting capabilities of great art and music. Those are ideas essential to this city, and without it we probably wouldn't be so rich and vital.
Whatever new names or locales might follow, long may M3F be at the center of Phoenix's beating heart.
Friday, March 7
Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs (DJ set), 4:40 p.m. at Cosmic Stage
I’m weary of DJ sets. (And I’m extra weary of DJ sets at 4:40 p.m. on a Friday.) Likely because I come from the school of thought where if it’s a musician/band member is on the ones and twos, why aren’t they playing their actual set?In the case of British producer Orlando Tobias Edward Higginbottom, his DJ set felt a little different than some other fare I’ve encountered over the years. Maybe it was that the crowd seemed to instantly click, and people didn’t seem to care about time or place. Maybe that his selections fell in line with the unconventional and undeniable electronic music of TEED — a medley of ample bass, strange rhythms and plenty of left field tweaks. It may have been that at one point he repeated a sample about drop and transitions before smacking us with a truly brain-splattering example.
Either way, TEED maybe didn’t necessarily change my mind, but he did make me realize the simple fun of a well executed set. Also, it could’ve been the Mountain Dew I'd just slammed, but let’s just give it to Higginbottom. Chris Coplan
Hyperbella, 4:35 p.m. at Valley Stage
I’d spent several weeks rather intrigued by Hyperbella. They’re not as famous as some of the others acts featured at M3f , and instead the local band won their way onto the lineup. So, were the people validated in sending these upstarts to the “big time?” Mostly, yeah. They did take a little extra time to soundcheck — apparently they “have a lot of shit,” according to singer-guitarist Cassidy Hilgers. Once they got over said speed bump, the band sounded as if Heart and The Decemberists had formed a math rock band. Which is to say, there were ample harmonic feats of prowess, lots of complicated song structures to add to the soulful brevity and an undeniable sense the band were on a wavelength entirely their own.
I can’t say whether this will prove to be a career-making performance for Hyperbella, but the 75 to 100 people that attended seemed to have fun. And if you can dazzle that many people so early in the day, you’ve clearly won. CC
Slow Pulp, 6:30 p.m. at Daydream Stage
I can’t say this any other way, so here it is: Slow Pulp are just a mostly good band. They didn’t exactly blow my socks off, but you can’t deny the catchiness and emotionality of their throwback ‘90s alt rock. And from that, I was of two minds during their sunset-adjacent set meant to signal the start of the day’s true heavy hitters. On the one hand, I wished for something a little more explosive or anthemic, and this minor lull maybe hurt the fest’s overall momentum. On the other hand, the band made for the perfect “warm up,” as they did just enough to woo the crowd without burning them out. Effectively, the right mixture of intensity and tranquility to modulate the day in a way that actually felt exciting. Good bands can always go beyond the music and indulge in a little crowd control, if you will.
And Slow Pulp were perfect in their role in a way that makes me even more appreciative then if they were just good. These fests are intricate, layered experiences, and you need something textured and nuanced to really get your money’s worth. Slow Pulp were well worth their whole rate, I’d wager. CC
Alvvays, 7:30 p.m. at Vista Stage
During the generally cold and chilly first day, Canada’s Alvvays were the first band to really thank the audience for toughing out the elements. (I believe the specific words of frontwoman Molly Rankin were, “It fucking sucks.”) It’s a small detail, but it felt rather indicative of what the band managed to accomplish. Like Slow Pulp, Alvvays had a role to play beyond just doling out great songs. No, they had to step up in terms of quality and energy, but not so much they’d ever dare outshine the headliners. So, to accomplish this rather tricky process, Alvvays had a few tricks at their disposal. One was playing in a way that felt true to their own creative outlook — they’d jump between anthemic rock jams and abstract art rock, all the time seemingly unmoved by whatever the audience wanted most. (Each song was well received, but you could tell some grooves just landed harder.)
Then, at other times (but especially toward the end of the set), the band engaged with the crowd in a novel way. It's as if Alvvays were pushing people onward and fueling some grand shared sentiment before the night really took off. And so in that way, Alvvays felt like two bands, and they created real proper layers in their set to give the audience something compelling, thoughtful and always engaging.
Not every band could pull off something like this — basically, crowd control of the most maddeningly important variety — and Alvvays proved they belonged right where they had landed. The weather totally sucked, but their whole set gave everyone zero chills and way more thrills. CC
BADBADNOTGOOD, 8:30 p.m. at Daydream Stage
If I’m your average festival organizer, I dare not put this Canadian alt jazz band on second to last. I would've put them on closer to sunset, and let them build the night up that way. (And if you’re still asking, Alvvays would have been my hypothetical pre-headliner due to their energy levels.) Yet M3F is no ordinary festival, and they clearly knew what they were doing in give everyone a little jazz fusion magic prior to the glory of LCD Soundsystem. Not that BADBADNOTGOOD are somehow this bizarre, unrelatable gaggle of music geeks (even if they are music geeks in the best way). No, their blend of jazz, hip-hop and a dash of prog rock does have all the oversized percussion and funky bass lines that the people crave. Rather, it’s that the band do their music their own way, and as accessible as it is, it’s not the kind of thing that works everywhere. It's music that's smarter than it appears, and that kind of intent and energy doesn’t always click with festival crowds (who, in the nicest way possible, are sometimes greedy, hungry children).
The band’s ability to connect with people comes not from playing to an audience’s whims, but letting them see the brilliance of their fusion act. It's a technically robust medley that takes time to build and develop across the set, and not every moment of it is going to be high level wizardry. However, when it does reach some explosive moment or generate profound catharsis, the band’s music clicks in a way that's just like gravity. And in navigating that space, BADBADNOTGOOD brought in people with different wants and needs as well as genre preferences to connect with one another and let us all share in music that challenges (and rewards) in the very best ways.
What made their set a success is that M3F is very much cut from the same cloth: There’s a certain level of trust involved, and if you believe enough, it’ll work out. Sure, you’ll have to crouch down in a dark, muddy field waiting to explode upward on the drummer’s slow count. But once you’re fully upright again, you'll realize you’re better for the experience. CC
LCD Soundsystem, 9:35 p.m. at Vista Stage
If you’ve read any of my recent work, you’ll know that I’ve been an LCD Soundsystem fan for some time. Yet for some reason, this was the first time I’d ever seen James Murphy and company live and in person. And if I took away anything from this performance (aside from a tweaked knee from dancing and tripping), it’s that this band may be even greater than I'd imagined after years of obsessing over records like "Sound of Silver." For one, Murphy on stage is even more of a dynamic talent — his vocal range and sense of both romanticism and authority on a song like “Tribulations” basically makes it a new, magical tune to adore. Even when a song felt a touch less new and lively — like the perpetually understated jam “Home” — the band reminded us of how their wit, blend of electronic and punk music and general commitment to the bit continually endear themselves to audiences.
Yes, a chunk of this magic is the band’s visuals; those abstract, light-heavy video clips lend so much weight and power to their songs. But it’s also very much that the band have a kind of “anti-charisma,” and Murphy introducing the band several times is proof of a joke we may or may not have been in on.
That there is the true appeal of LCD: They will surprise you when they want to, unnerve you when you least expect it and push you into dancing at increasing levels of personal abandon. (Not bad for their first dang show of the year.) It’s also nice to know that, to some degree, the band aren’t always in control. They were not the witty masterminds of every second of the set, and they too had to deal with broken equipment. Only that just became another organic moment of connection as Murphy told the band mid-repair that “you can do it” as the machine abruptly jumped to life. Talk about deus ex Murphy, am I right?
LCD continue to evolve and extend in front of us even after all these years. Part of that's an honesty and earnestness that’s always real but sometimes comes off more playful and unserious. Plus, they find ways to push these songs to new heights of liveliness and fresh context. But mostly it’s because they are themselves every single time in every single way, and that is a skill you simply cannot teach.
At one point, Murphy told the crowd, “You’re all fulfilling your end of the deal. We would endeavor to meet you halfway.” How sweet: a little deprecating humor from these NYC electro-rock gods. CC
Saturday, March 8
UPSAHL, 2:30 p.m. at Vista Stage
I genuinely like UPSAHL — the Phoenix singer is a boon to this city with her confrontational approach to pop. Still, even that prowess didn’t totally smooth out some key issues with her early afternoon set. 
For one, I was keenly aware of the backing track — all sorts of artists use them, but it does ruin some of the magic (like knowing they stock lakes with trout and bass). Or, her overt insistence on getting the crowd involved and making noise, despite the fact most folks only seemed to have, like, 70 percent to give.
Did any of that ruin the set? Not at all. UPSAHL’s originals, like the party anthem “Lunatic” or the mostly touching ode “Arizona,” show that this still-young singer is ferocious, unafraid and, perhaps best of all, relentless in her drive to make people feel her in both flesh and spirit. Even a couple covers (The Ting Tings’ “That’s Not My Name,” Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Heads Will Roll”) were instances where she showed her crowd control skills and pure vocal prowess.
Rather, it was ultimately a case of generally good enough, and even if there were issues, UPSAHL’s place on this lineup proved she’s central to the Valley’s musical makeup and someone who earned that time on the fest’s big stage. I’m sure her next outing will be a proper banger. CC
GlamorPuss Y Los Chingaderos, 3:55 p.m. at Valley Stage
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: You can pretty much get me interested with any weirdly-named band. (That explains my brief, ill-advised interest in 30 Odd Foot of Grunts.) And GlamorPuss Y Los Chingaderos are already in the lead for my favorite local band name, especially because it could’ve gone in a dozen or so musical directions.Sure, I was hoping for maybe New York Dolls-ian ranchera, but the band’s stoner-friendly soul-funk hybrid was a nice late afternoon treat. Sometimes the band came of more akin to a bar band, especially when they brought on some local rapper who didn’t fit with the chilled vibes cultivated in the preceding 20 minutes. Yet said descriptor isn’t necessarily a band thing — it just means the band are relatable and accessible and maybe even still finding themselves (even as they’ve got their genre blend solidly down).
The bar band "analogy" is just a good way to get at their massive potential collectively — they’d kill at a local barbecue as well as somewhere like Valley Bar — and that kind of connectivity and charm trumps odd choices in collaborators or any clear nerves they might have experienced on this rather important stage.
At one point, two people in these loteria-meets-Brazilian-Carnival masks showed up from nowhere and started dancing. (Don’t worry, I confirmed they weren’t demons or a fever dream.) That moment crystallized the band’s set and overarching significance: This is a band riding the waves of randomness, love and maybe mind-altering substances, and if you can get aboard, there’s some real kooky magic to be found.
Seriously, though, that name is so awesome I want to buy 150 band shirts pronto. CC
Sylvan Esso, 7:30 p.m at Vista Stage
A few years ago, I had a brief but intense love affair with Sylvan Esso. I adored albums like “What Now” and “Free Love,” and I delighted at the personal and creative relationship between singer Amelia Meath and producer Nick Sanborn. Then I just kind of lost the spark, and they’ve since gone on to release 2022’s direction-shifting, well-received “No Rules Sandy.” So, coming into their M3F performance, I wondered if it was possible to recapture that old loving feeling.I’m happy to report the romance is back, baby.
Now, that’s not to say that I was totally in love with some of their newer material. A recent track like “Echo Party,” for instance, lacks the piss and vinegar of “Radio,” or the pure charm of “Kick Jump Twist.” A little more accessibility never hurt anyone, but I have to say the “Sandy” record moves the group toward something too surface level when I know the understated complexity and shiny polish that defines Sylvan Esso.
A lot of that indifference and disconnect faded, however, when you saw parts of the group that could likely never change. Meath’s vocals, for instance, not only sound like they do on record, but they’re even better because we can witness how she forms and shapes these beguiling harmonies live and in person. Speaking of solid displays, Meath has some A-list dance moves — it’s the best melding of avant garde ballet and your mom slowly strutting in the kitchen.
Their power, though, is in the interactions between Sanborn and Meath. Like their tiny stretching exercises before a song, or how they keep time locked eye to eye. Sometimes it felt like they were only performing for each other, and we got to see them in their natural environment. Other times, you could see and feel Sanborn crafting every sound and silence to provide Meath all the room to dazzle. It’s a romance that transcends all connotations and utterances, and it gets to the heart of why Sylvan Esso are so easy to fall for every time.
This is a duo that's all about leaping head first into the sheer joy and wonder of it all, and making great art by knowing what really matters is what we give to ourselves and to others. Musical crushes may come and go, but Sylvan Esso will always be here waiting when we need to be romanced out of our funky boots. CC
Girl Talk, 8:30 p.m. at Daydream Stage
I nearly saw Girl Talk way back at Street Scene 2009 — until I opted to see Modest Mouse instead. (That band’s set was rather serviceable.) What I recall walking past the stage, though, is dozens of people slamming their way to the very front, which certainly gave me a sturdy pang of jealousy. So, Gregg Gillis’ Saturday night set was intended to be a take two for your friendly neighborhood editor man. (In the sense that I could finally come full circle with my long-running fandom and not, unfortunately, relive the last 16 years.) Ultimately, it both was and was not the rush of nostalgia I had intended.
Visually speaking, the Girl Talk stage show is unheralded — there’s something about having 60 people on stage to dance and wield toilet paper guns that makes for proper entertainment. At the same time, I think the “all go, no slow” approach feels a little empty. I wanted maybe nuance, which I get is maybe a big ask for Gillis’ gimmicky musical hybrids, but it just goes to show that tastes and preferences evolve and the market is packed with competitive stage shows. (No one else seemed to mind the nonstop dance party, and it’s another time I've yielded to the very happy crowd.)
Speaking of his songs, I have to say I prefer Gillis’ newer stuff for the stage setting. Part of that speaks to a larger issue: I’m one of those people who’ve listened to his tapes for years, and so I’ve created my own context for this music (i.e., driving in my car and cleaning my house). Anything outside of that context is “wrong,” and maybe that’s why the sheer intensity of this set felt a touch overwhelming.
The newer songs, centered around samples of GloRilla and Cardi B (among others), felt less like gimmicks themselves, which is the best way I can describe “Let It Out” and how Gillis layers ELO and Juicy J back-to-back. These more recent cuts prove that Gillis doesn’t just have the same sharp ear, but he’s extending the bit in way to emphasize longevity.
So, what’s this all mean? Well, it’s nostalgia like I never expected — a rush of past and future where I can’t tell one from the other, and so the warmth of recognition and the shock of the new tag team the old brain. I wanted a dance party that made me feel 24 again, but I’ll never be that dude again. And there were 24 year olds right then and there that deserved that rush, and Gillis was more than ready to give it to them in kind.
For yours truly, I was able to check off a bucket list artist. Maybe it wasn’t as I’d wanted it to be, but Chris from 2009 would just be happy that both Gillis and I are both still kicking around, trying to find a little sonic joy to share. CC
Justice, 9:30 p.m at Vista Stage
For an hour and 20 minutes, a 12-legion army of angels descended upon Phoenix and sent the M3F crowd into mind-numbing, brain-melting, slack-jawed awe. They came in the form of Justice, the French electronic duo whose recent album “Hyperdrama” — with its singular blend of disco and heavy metal influences — nabbed a Grammy nomination. One album track, the Tame Impala-featuring "Neverender," even won Best Dance/Electronic Recording.And when you bring a certain kind of unreal magic, you deserve all the golden music awards possible. The pair's lighting production made the show feel like an imperial visit from an advanced intergalactic species, with multi-dimensional fixtures creating complex visual images. The band’s synthesizers were colossal, captivating and hot enough to liquefy rubber.
They mostly played songs from the new album while facing each other in the center of the stage. At the peak of the show, they fused “Neverender” with their 2007 hit “D.A.N.C.E.” in a musical statement that captured the whole range of their work. Justice's power came not just from staging but their ability to constantly rework their sound.
At several points in the set, I looked back at the wide-eyed crowd, most of them struck by a sense of terror and amazement. As awesome as that might have been, it did highlight a generational divide. For some — like my dad and his friends — the show was overstimulating, frightening and aggressive. One person said that seeing the effect the music and lights had over the crowd was dystopian. For me and my friends who came up in the digital age, the enrapture was a beautiful experience.
And the feeling was apparently mutual. New Times caught up with Gaspard Augé — the dapper, curly-haired half of the band — while he was hanging out at 2:30 a.m. in Walter Where?House. Wearing a brown leather jacket over a "Phantom of the Opera" shirt, Augé had this to say about Phoenix: "Great crowd. It was one of the best crowds we had on this tour." TJ L'Heureux
