Here's the thing about dance music: It's all about creating an atmosphere. Specifically, one for people to party in. Given Kaskade's connection to the Chicago house scene and his ten-plus year career, the man knows how to do just that. Not short on energy, the DJ entertainer was in a perpetual bounce, the rhythmic motion helping propel him from song to song, all on the feel good house-music tip.
Were fans—of which there were no shortage—there for specific cuts? Possibly. Dance music has reached such heights that it is adopting some of rock's live trappings; meaning that people are fans of an artist and show up expecting to hear certain material. But this is not the way of the DJ, and that's what Kaskade is first and foremost. If he's rocking a crowd and it's taking him in a certain sonic direction, he's not going to sacrifice that momentum just to appease what basically amounts to a request. I'm not saying that this was an issue Kaskade's performance—from the cheers arising with every next song, no one was complaining—I'm simply saying that dude was firing on all cylinders and people didn't necessarily care if their personal fave got played, so long as the vibe and the exuberant energy level were maintained.
Kaskade proved yet again that this was a non-issue. His unrelenting 4/4 beats were accompanied by spot lights, lasers, blasts of smoke and surreal visuals, and that was just on stage. Within the masses there were girls yodeling, guys cleaning out bags of molly, bowls being packed, drinks being spilled, and making out, lots of making out. Cutting all the lights save a set of lasers, Kaskade sparked a frenzy in "4am." Like the time of night the song is named after, the darkness that descended on the Perry's stage field had the same effect as a club at peak time: throngs of sweaty bodies in close proximity to one another doing, well... Let's just say what happens at Perry's stage stays at Perry's stage.
The hit parade continued with, among other anthems, "Don't Stop Dancing," featuring longtime Kaskade collabo vocalist Haley, to which a girl directly behind me squeals, "I love this song." So clearly, when Kaskade's behind the decks, super fans and general revelers get what they came for. And tonight that turned out to be Chicago's own version of Electric Daisy Carnival, something Lollapalooza will undoubtedly delve further into in the years to come.