At the end of Fucked Up’s powerful, frenetic set, frontman Pink Eyes looks out at the crowd and says something along the lines of “You can say we played the Hipster Woodstock. You can say we play punk rock. One thing I know, my hips are in a state of shock.” It’s actually a fitting summary of last Saturday’s FYF festival - whose crowd is a healthy cross-section of young hipsters, and aging punk rockers with bad hips. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but there seems to be a poetic irony in the proliferation of teenagers in Black Flag T-shirts and forty-somethings in Vivian Girls T-shirts.
