Blink-182 Bring the Banter to “Austin Titty Limits” and More From ACL Fest’s Friday Kickoff

ACL Festival 2024 opened to mid-Nineties temps – that’s fall in Austin, y'all – and performances ranging from fest OGs Asleep at the Wheel to Nashville glam queen Tanner Adell and bilingual indie pop outfit The Marías. Here are some of the Chronicle crew’s standouts from day one.

Katie Pruitt’s Sapphic Alt-Country Soothes

Katie Pruitt (photo by Gary Miller)

At opening afternoon at Zilker Park, ACL anxiety loomed large – how is it so damn hot already? Shit, did I pack my sunscreen? Is it too early for a beer? Katie Pruitt’s crooning alt-country proved the best possible cure for festival nerves. Like a combination of fellow ACLers Chappell Roan and Chris Stapleton, the Georgia-born songwriter bobbed heads with her twang-twinged take on sapphic yearning. Sexy slow burn “Out of the Blue” swirled with reverb, while “Wishful Thinking” saw the guitarist flex her chops with a gorgeous finger-tapped riff. The proud Southerner also took a beat to address the importance of queer representation: “It’s hard growing up and feeling like there’s not the kind of love you want out of the world…No matter what kind of love you want for yourself, you gotta love yourself first.” Introducing tongue-in-cheek closer “Loving Her,” the charismatic Pruitt held command over her ACL audience: "Or should I say GayCL? Y’all ready to have a gay-ass time?” Case in point, the track’s buoyant verse: “Some people choose Buddha or Jesus or booze/But her body's my temple and her soul is my savior.” GayCL, indeed. – Genevieve Wood

Mannequin Pussy Launch a Sweaty Punk Rock Sermon

Mannequin Pussy (photo by David Brendan Hall)

“Since ACL gave us an hour to play in 95 degree heat,” a panting Marisa Dabice said, “let’s talk for a while.” The Mannequin Pussy singer stomped and screamed around the Miller Lite stage in a white fluffy dress reminiscent of Björk’s old swan getup, which, after stepping away to change into something more breathable, she revealed weighed “like 10 pounds.” Though meant as reprieve, Dabice’s addresses landed as heavy as her band’s pummeling hardcore. “We respect no religion, no government, no politician that does not let people just fucking live,” she declared, encouraging her followers to forgo God-fearing shame before “I Got Heaven” and calling for a free Palestine following the 2019 howler “Clams.” Bassist Colins "Bear" Regisford took the mic for “Pigs Is Pigs,” a song about “how cops suck dick,” and criticized the response of Kamala Harris – a former prosecutor – to the devastation of Hurricane Helene. “Maybe if we named North Carolina ‘Israel’ they’d get some money,” he snapped. Eyeing the sizable afternoon crowd, who mostly cheered on MP’s leftist proclamations, Dabice said she finally understood the reason for the band’s success: “There’s this fucking overflowing, massive amount of rage that just lives in us all the time… We think you’re here because you feel that rage too.” – Carys Anderson

Carín León’s Hangover Cure

Carín León (photo by Gary Miller)

For Hispanic fortune hunters, the notion of crossing over into the American mainstream might be as antiquated as a fear of socialism. Sonoran vaquero Óscar Armando Díaz de León Huez, debuting on the first afternoon of ACL Fest 2024 as Carín León, barely – barely – addressed a healthy but not over-big dinnertime crowd on the headlining Amex stage opposite Norah Jones in English. In Texas, why bother, and really, ditto across the U.S. as America gets ever more … brown. Riding some 26 band members, a dozen of them a brass orchestra, the Mexican national began at arena pyro and Prince-ly guitar, and marched across root Latin forms – band, norteño, country – for a sun-drenched hour. “This is for the drunks,” he cried early, hoisting a $100-plus bottle of Clase Azul tequila that got lighter and lighter as the set wore on. As pods of Latina grandmothers threw down to every word, the Latin Grammy bait and mega streamer stretched his croony tenor from emotionally gothic to raw edge. Deep into polka and waving a Mexican flag, he announced his hangover finally gone as waved his emptying libation and implored a stage hand to “Take this shit away” ahead of late-set highlight “Aviso Importante.” Afterward, “Fuck” slipped from his lips. Joder. – Raoul Hernandez

Leon Bridges Radiates Cool With Retro Flair

Leon Bridges (photo by David Brendan Hall)

Mere hours before the gates to ACL 2024 opened, Leon Bridges released his self-titled fourth full-length album. Bold move, Mr. Bridges, to drop new music on the same day of a major festival appearance. Shouldn’t you be worried about folks singing along? Ever the smooth operator, the Fort Worth crooner was as unfazed as his Austin crowd, who packed the American Express stage for a golden hour set. Donning a Longhorns jersey, velveteen cowboy boots, and buggy retro sunglasses, the singer was a vision of suavity, moving and shaking through both discography classics and fresh tracks from his recent release. A man of few words, Bridges instead let his body do the talking, grooving through a sequence of stutter steps and body rolls. Backed by his seven-piece band, the performer slickly ventured into uncharted sonic territory, drawing from hazy 70s psychedelia, funk, and Afrobeat percussion. Tambourine taps and slide guitar accentuated new single “Peaceful Place,” while the Motown sensibilities of 2015 drop “Smooth Sailin’” were updated with wailing guitar riffs. Some things, however, need not be changed, like the minimal magic of yearning hymn “River.” Trading a red Solo Cup for an electric guitar, Bridges strummed through his biggest hit, stretching his voice heavenward as the Texas sun set on day one. – Genevieve Wood

The Devil and Chris Stapleton

Chris Stapleton (photo by Gary Miller)

Funny the number of Texans in denial about country music. When Kentucky buck Chris Stapleton broke through nearly a decade ago with Traveller, the big, genteel, Buddha beardo plucked and cried equally bard: singer-songwriter painting working-class ceilings while aspiring to everyday transcendence. Headlining opposite Blink 182’s literal fireworks Friday night, the inveterate picker gathered a huge, dedicated, and diverse throng as he twanged and banged pure country enough to include Willie Nelson pistol Mickey Raphael on harp. From strummy, Red Gretsch opener “White Horse” and trucker pacesetter “Crosswind” to universal constant “I Should Probably Leave” and vocal bear-down “Why Are You So Cold,” Stapleton rotated through guitars – hardbodies, hollow bodies, Fenders, Gibsons – and trebly tales duetted with his wife and harmonic accompanist Morgane Stapleto on stories of dead certainty and desperation and desire. An hour into Stapleton’s 90 minutes, he uncorked a “Freebird” intro to his own Skynyrd standard, “The Devil Named Music.” Sing it: “And sometimes I'm drunk, sometimes I'm stoned/ And yes, I get tired of being alone/ I miss my son and I miss my wife/ but the devil named music is taking my life.” – Raoul Hernandez

Blink-182 Bring the Banter to “Austin Titty Limits”

Blink-182's Mark Hoppus (photo by David Brendan Hall)

A Blink-182 set brings new meaning to the term “road show.” Happily reunited, now-middle-aged pop-punk veterans Mark Hoppus (donning a Franklin Barbecue shirt) and Tom DeLonge (switching between one guitar plastered in punk stickers and one adorned with the band’s own self-titled album art, plus eternal fixation the UFO) deliver a performance that’s half concert, half comedy hour. Dicks, titties, your mom’s pussy – the Honda headliners punctuated nearly every track with just the type of vulgar, frat boy banter you’d expect from the band who ran naked down the street in their most famous music video. (To be clear, beloved drummer Travis Barker was there too – he just steered clear of the dialogue.) Still, the musical part of the set, which blended cuts from comeback albums ONE MORE TIME… and ONE MORE TIME…PART 2 with classic earworms like “I Miss You,” “Dammit,” “All the Small Things,” and, of course, “What’s My Age Again?”, was joyous. When they closed with “ONE MORE TIME,” a surprisingly earnest song about the trio’s tumultuous history, the screens projected videos from throughout Blink history. In that moment, there weren’t enough dick jokes in the world to mask the artists’ love for each other. – Carys Anderson

Blink-182 (photo by David Brendan Hall)

Keep up with the latest ACL news and follow the Chronicle’s coverage from the fest at austinchronicle.com/acl.