Death to the Sun is more than just a name for the music festival held this past Saturday at the North Beach Bandshell. It's a plea to Mother Nature — a celebration that soon the sun will retreat and South Floridians will no longer spend their days dabbing at their foreheads with napkins.
The all-day concert began at 1 p.m., that most unholy of
"I want to thank you for supporting Miami's weirdos," the festival organizer, Ricardo Guerrero, who also performed that day as Rick Guerre, told those in attendance before the last performer, Dim Past, played his electronic beats at 9:40 p.m. "This kind of thing isn't supposed to happen here." Death to the Sun calls itself Miami Underground Music Festival and makes a point to feature local bands without pop appeal: the
Death to the Sun was a rare thing, an entirely free festival (though they were actively trying to collect donations for the bands at the door), devoid even of any corporate sponsors. There was a lonely food truck parked
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Instead, it was a day to revel in the sheer quantity of music. Twenty-seven bands took the stage over the course of nine hours. The idea was ten minutes on stage, ten minutes for the next act to set up their gear, and repeat. This meant no formalities. No "What's up guys!" No "Thanks for coming!" Oftentimes, there was not even an introduction, so if you dug a band, you were forced to ask them what their name was when they walked offstage. But the day's lineup was an excellent sampling of what bands in the local scene you'd want to check out again.
Of the bands that I was able to catch, the one that made the greatest impression was Milk Spot, whose cartoonish glam-rock gimmicks included a guitarist with a rubber chicken mask covering his head and a singer in a yellow boa who
Sadly, the day didn't end well for everyone. On their way home from the show, local act Booty and the Browns had its car