The energy surged strong through Day 2 of Made in America, where oceans of beat-wise Angelenos returned to jam with the help of 16-oz Budweisers and more than a dozen stellar performers. By Sunday, it seemed that festival organizers had chipped away at a few of the previous day's housekeeping issues—specifically, by revamping crowd control tactics in the beer garden and reorganizing portable johns. It was nice to see evidence of someone doing their job, though hopefully by next year they'll have figured out that twenty food trucks is not enough to serve 40,000 famished festival-goers who've spent eight hours in a vertical position with their hands in the air. Just saying.
Hungry or not, Day 2's crowd also gave us something new to look at. While most of Saturday's attendees resembled a sort of pre-Coachella contingent (a.k.a, kids tank topped and ostensibly tune-savvy enough to have gone to Indio but whose parents didn't let them), the average age of Sunday's crop was noticeably higher (I stood behind an actual grandpa in line for churros). The age hike might be due to Day 2's slightly more veteran headliners, which included nerdgastic 90's alt rockers Weezer, fast-fingered lady killer John Mayer and cross-generational rap legend Kanye West—all of whom filled their sets with hits both new and nostalgic. The day's diverse lineup provided something for everyone though, from Chance the Rapper's hell-raising hooks and Steve Aoki's blood-pumping EDM to Rise Against and their angsty hardcore punk. The night ended boldly with consecutive performances from a dapper John Mayer in specs and a silver-tongued Kanye West, whose respective guitar skills and spitfire wordsmithing reminded us why their names are more recognizable than the Vice President of the United States.
We came to Made in America for the tunage, and the tunage was rightfully delivered. Despite its inescapable crowds and oppressive heat, the fest left a good taste in our mouths—one of killer music and a sense of camaraderie that we Angelenos don't get to feel that often. Plus, any event that can get tens of thousands of Angelenos to ride the subway and hang out in DTLA for the weekend is a keeper in our book. See you next year, MIA. We might just be glad to have you.