Saturday of Weekend One squeezed many more fans into Zilker than the day prior. Some fighting expectedly treacherous lines around peak 5pm entry times, the Chronicle writers found much to love. Here are some highlights from ACL Fest day two.

Adrian Quesada Invites Impassioned Vocalists of Boleros Psicodélicos photo by David Brendan Hall

Though everyone laughed at the concept 10 years ago, said Austin’s Grammy-winning producer/musician Adrian Quesada onstage, the idea behind Boleros Psicodélicos was of the heartbreak songs you hear at a bar, drawing your sorrows in shots of liquor. He paused before adding, “but maybe the shot is dosed with something” to audience laughs. Quesada realized the project of Sixties and Seventies-inspired baladas – so dramatic they’d fit perfectly in a telenovela or French New Wave film – with more than a dozen vocalists, an impressive eight of whom performed Saturday. Standouts among the incredible singers, Angélica Garcia and Natalia Clavier, sang respective cuts “Idolo” and “Esclavo Y Amo” in front of a band complete with string section, brass, and idiophone. In a midday heat to sizzle the rivets on your jeans against the skin, it was the heat of passion engulfing the Honda stage. “Te odio tanto que yo misma me espanto por mi forma de odiar,” sang Tita, a Guatemalan vocalist on the record. That is: “I hate you so much that I scare myself for my form of hating you.” Ouch. – Christina Garcia

Warning: Do not tolerate Shine Blockas (or, those who would block Big Boi’s shine). If you ever attend one of the legendary Daddy Fat Sax’s solo performances, come prepared to shut down any dude (and it’s always a dude) who takes on a mission to complain that it’s no longer 1998. For instance, the middle-aged guy who pulled up to the Honda stage right before showtime, ranting about how he would have “been here on time” if a certain other member of the Georgia-launched duo Outkast had been performing as well. Let André 3000 play his flute. Instead, Luscious Left Foot was joined onstage by a different Dungeon Family member – one he clearly, y’know, actually hangs out with offstage. Indeed, the hypeman assistance of longtime collaborator Sleepy Brown was a clear boon on Boi’s still-sharp steamroller flow. Songs that might have otherwise been stampeded through with perfunctory solo skill instead became vessels for the clear love these two ATLiens continue to share. Most bromantic moment: when Brown popped off some goofy dance moves for “So Fresh, So Clean,” and Big Boi cried out, “Yass bitch! Yass!” – Julian Towers

Sweat, sex, and rock & roll: a formula that, when done right, never fails. The Past Lives do it to perfection. The local sextet, led by the charisma-oozing bombast of Quentin Arispe, hyped the Tito’s tent into a frenzy with an intoxicating mix of dirty Eighties-styled hard rock, skeezy R&B ballads, and funk-bleeding breakdowns. Flanked throughout the performance by two backup dancers, Arispe’s choreography struck a provocative contrast to the heavier moments that jammed the set’s opening run, yet synched perfectly as the band later leaned into an irreverently-suave sass of strutting grooves and slinky moves. A James Brown bump and breakdown of Aretha’s “Respect” led into notable Past Lives single “I Am the Gun,” before closing out with “Friends” torquing mini-operatic drama. “We don’t do things nice and easy, ‘round here we do things nice and rough,” Arispe seduced before cranking a nasty turn on “Proud Mary” that blew out into full hair-flipping, high-kicking energy. By the end of the set, half the band was shirtless and dripping with sweat. Likely the audience, too. – Doug Freeman

Cimafunk doesn’t just put on a performance, or a set of songs. Cuba’s incendiary device ignites sound, moves mass – physically, psychically, communally, spiritually. Inside ACL’s trademark Tito’s tent at 2pm, the Afro-Latin octet united every particle. Decibels in that singular space – host to countless past burning-down-the-house October moments: Charles Bradley, Shuggie Otis, the Relatives, Bombino, Kinky, Eek-A-Mouse – seemed low, but the roar of the house after the first number shook the air. In white square sunglasses, skinny and grinning, the bandleader shook, rattled, and rolled – bumping, gliding, knocking his knees together – while loosing trills, hoots, shouts, his voice a percussive trigger on the group’s Gatling-gun funk. Bass solo, big beats, and bounce fever alighting the audience, everyone in the band sang and ultimately dozens of fans ended the 45-minute set onstage. Lifeforce emission. – Raoul Hernandez

Mark 4:30pm on the second day of ACL, and I’ve posted myself and my lawn chair at the petite BMI stage to await the arrival of formerly Disney-affiliated sister pop duo Aly & AJ – assuming arriving that early would solidify a decent viewing. As the crowd grew, my slide further from the stage became inevitable, before deserting my precious chair altogether. Come 5:15pm and the Michalka sisters, in matching all-denim Carhartt shirts and carpenter pants, took the stage to a dense crowd with some on shoulders and many on tiptoes. With half their set coming from latest verbose 2021 LP, a touch of the beat gets you up on your feet gets you out and into the sun, the ACL first-timers and backing band closed with a more rock-coded edition of highly-popular 2007 “Potential Breakup Song” – but not before promising they’d be back soon. To ACL Fest: Put some respect on millennial pop and find a bigger stage next time. — Alyssa Quiles

There could've been no better sunset guide than Philadelphia psych-rockers the War On Drugs. When the band launched into its 75-minute set, the light was just beginning to fade. By the end, after witnessing the seven-piece backlit by a brilliant light show, you were left to wonder how it got dark all of a sudden – how over an hour had gone by, and the band had only run through 10 songs. The group’s expansive textural sound, honed over five records, translated perfectly over Zilker Park. Individual songs were beside the point: Each bled into the next in the most delightful way, creating a time warp with few pauses for any kind of reflection. Frontman Adam Granduciel blistered through guitar solos, punctuated by subtle-but-impactful saxophone from Jon Natchez. Jams extended to the outer reaches of the park, transporting us out of festival grounds, at least for a while. – Abby Johnston

Alongside classic neon-clad brand installations like the Hulu Motel (which seems like a missed opportunity for an alliterative Hulu Hotel), this year, a geodesic structure labeled “DomeRx” sits next to the Barton Springs stage. With tired legs from hiking through the Lil Nas X crowd, I opted to watch Houstonian Tobe Nwigwe’s neighboring-stage set projected on the mid-sized dome interior. Maybe it was the harshly-mic’d booming bass from the live edition just yards away, but I should have picked a less-raucous performer, or maybe something called “Solar Journey” on the dome set times. For Nwigwe, the dome-cam live streamed from the vantage point of a photo-pit security guard turned around, eyeballs right at stage level. Like living life in 0.5 selfie perspective, the zoom-less single shot left a lot to be desired in terms of 7pm lighting and facial details. Still, some 10 people lightly clapped after the first few songs, like we were on an airplane. After reading more about Californian dome originator Darren Romanelli, my live-music-focused expectations were perhaps off-base – he seems all about the patchworked bean bag chairs made from repurposed quilts, which do offer a rare soft Zilker seat. After one dome-incomer followed the attendant’s instructions to cozy up and share bean bags a little too well, I emerged to the much-more-vibrant in-person mint hues of Nwigwe’s mass performers in tulle and choir robes. Dusty outside far outweighed the low-lit livestream. – Rachel Rascoe

When P!nk is flying over you – zipping back and forth unexpectedly fast, flipping upside down, and singing all along – it feels like seeing a superhero in real life. These are the final three exhilarating minutes of her performance, but the festival set would have satisfied with or without wire-flying aerial moves. Opening her mainstage headlining slot, it barely even mattered that she totally blanked out halfway through the third verse of 2001 hit “Get the Party Started.” The blip only clarified that the legacy pop artist, otherwise known as Alecia Moore, wasn’t using backing tracks – all of the ensuing 90 minutes bursting through her and an extraordinary backing vocal trio. Fundamentally, P!nk’s set breaks down into three sections: a run of hits (including the best early 2000s radio song with an weirdly in-the-know opiate reference, “Just Like a Pill”); an extensive helping of covers including “Bohemian Rhapsody” (as she actually performed with Queen last week at the American memorial concert for Taylor Hawkins) alongside an acoustic version of “Me and Bobby McGee;” and a highly-choreographed pop finale. Throughout, her ace five-piece backing band impressed as P!nk maintained lovey mom vibes – twice threatening to “tackle and cuddle” adoring fans. Her banter also kept an air of spontaneity, as she shared real-time findings of a lost earring and a huge cockroach onstage. Without the hype of a contemporary pop star, or the golden catalog of a heritage act, P!nk transcended as an all-around festival crowd pleaser. – Kevin Curtin

Check out more Austin Chronicle coverage from ACL Fest 2022.

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ACL Fest 2022, Adrian Quesada, Big Boi, The Past Lives, Cimafunk, Aly & AJ, The War on Drugs, Tobe Nwigwe, Pink, P!nk, Lil Nas X, ACL Festival 2022

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