Being outside in the weather during the summer feels increasingly fraught. Outdoor concerts have an enduring appeal and are safer for those with COVID concerns, but climate change is increasing the risk of these outdoor events. We’re not just considering the heat and unpredictable weather, but also the seasonal wildfire smoke that regularly hangs over urban areas.

This summer we attended a number of festivals and outdoor concerts in the Portland area; here’s a report:

Pabst Project

This year, we welcomed Project Pabst back to Tom McCall Waterfront Park for a two-night, two-stage, eclectic lineup of ADHD jukebox rock, hip-hop, indie pop, garage punk, and more. The common musical theme was that they were pumped up, and each band felt good — sounded good — as the sets bounced back and forth around the 24-foot unicorn statue that stood at the center of the festival.

While the critic thinks the mid-80s temperatures are too much to be in a crowd (though he admits that crowds are, by definition, crowded), the Pabst grounds had a shockingly large number of seats with sun umbrellas and actual tree shade, as well as a small, pop-up bar in an air-conditioned tent.

We never got too close to any of the stages, relying on our traditional penchant for standing near the sound booth, where the music probably sounds best. And the sound at Project Pabst was impressive. When the music hit as the day cooled, it all fell into place like an unshakable, sensory argument for music outside. Music outside! Music that everyone can hear!

People who didn’t spend $115-$220 on a ticket were lining up at Morrison Bridge or dancing on the boardwalk. It’s a style we can’t help but like, even if we’re deep in the “pay for art you love” phase. Speaking of love, this was the first time we’d heard Gossip since their new album Real Power dropped in March. Hearing Beth Ditto’s voice is still akin to hearing the voice of God.

A Project Pabst representative estimated that the festival drew 15,000 people over the two days. They are already planning next year’s lineup.

Picket-ton

My first few years at Pickathon were all about night sets and dance parties in the woods and open fields under the stars. But at some point I started to transition into daytime festival mode.

This year, in our group Pickathon recap, I ventured to mention that there are a number of festivals taking place as part of the annual weekend of art and music held at Pendarvis Farm in early August.

The shows start at 11 a.m. and go until 1 a.m. the next day. That’s 14-plus hours a day, on multiple stages. There’s no way to take it all in, and at some point I became the kind of festival-goer who wore a sunhat to some of the gourmet dinners; my metal mug was hanging out of my panties. The organic-looking air conditioning system at the Galaxy Barn became my benevolent deity, and I considered building a religion around it. The woman who was at the show, holding a baby and eating a burrito during Rhododendron’s progressive metal set, could be our first saint.

There were more tickets on offer at Pickathon this year, as organizers secured a 10-year permit extension and received approval to expand the crowd from 5,000 paying attendees to 8,500. From what I saw, the fields and forests absorbed them easily.

PDX live

Portland’s Pioneer Courthouse Square celebrated its 40th anniversary in April, as you can probably tell from all the big banners on it. As with Project Pabst, I appreciated the free spectacle that passersby can find by standing along SW 6th. It’s actually a better view of the stage than from the square’s red brick steps.

As an outdoor venue that plays multiple dates a year, the weather seemed to treat the Square kindly — although the Aug. 17 Waxahatchee show had to be moved to 1 p.m. to avoid an unusual thunderstorm. The atmosphere in the Square is surprisingly atmospheric at dusk, as the city’s crows soar dramatically overhead.

Attending a sold-out Sleater-Kinney on August 7, I had a few complaints about the sound seeming too brassy. The thought-rock punk band’s energy seemed to evaporate before it reached the crowd.

Kisses

The final XOXO festival was planned for August 2020, but of course that didn’t happen. The experimental festival for tech-focused artists and creators that started in 2012 had been canceled years before, but never this many times, and never while trying to ride out a pandemic.

“The last five years have sucked the moon out of the clear blue sky,” festival co-founder Andy McMillan said during his opening speech, referring to an anxiety he now felt that he hadn’t before.

But he and the festival’s other co-founder—and Andy—Andy Baio didn’t want to leave a chapter unfinished, or the participants without one final meeting. Their reasons for ending XOXO (after hosting seven of them and launching a co-working space called Outpost) were tied to the fact that corporate sponsorships were running low. “And always there, waiting: COVID,” Baio said soberly.

For that reason, in 2024, the festival erected a giant tent on the Revolution Hall lawn to provide shelter for attendees who didn’t want to remain masked in the venue’s amphitheater. And, uncharacteristically for late August, the weather turned surprisingly cold and rainy on the morning of the first day.

XOXO wasn’t a music festival, although there was music, and it wasn’t a conference, although there were lectures. But it was partly outdoors and in Portland, so I’m including it. It’s also potentially the most Portland-ish of any summer festival I’ve been to.

During the festival, people mentioned “living the XOXO dream” several times, which — as Verge editor Sarah Jeong confirmed on stage — means “visiting XOXO and then moving to Portland.”

XOXO 2024 had a great cast of journalists and cultural critics. Ed Young got a standing ovation for a speech he adapted from his regular “How the Pandemic Destroyed America.” It was titled “How the Pandemic Destroyed Me” and included his thoughts on journalism as a “caring profession.” It’s all too easy, he argued, for journalists to become self-important assholes, and he tries to ground his work in empathy, curiosity, and kindness. “A lot of what I do comes from that,” he said.

Other takeaways: Casey Newton thinks anyone who has a newsletter should have a podcast, and vice versa, even though there won’t be much overlap in listeners. Cabel Sasser has an incredible story about a McDonald’s mural that I won’t even paraphrase. Sarah Jeong discussed what happens when you’re overwhelmed by waves of online harassment: “You deal with it.” Ryan Broderick thinks the internet is “rotting; it’s falling apart.”

“I want to say one thing, which is that I don’t like to organize events,” Andy Baio concluded XOXO as he and Andy McMillan drank beers on stage to celebrate the festival’s end. McMillan called the festival his life’s work and tried once again to accurately describe what XOXO is: “It’s a community of people supporting each other in tough times.” “Now,” Baio said, “go create new things together.”