Pitchfork weekend was a true test of what the human body can endure—high-volume bands, constant exposure to direct sunlight, sweat, dirt, torrential downpours, mud, hordes of zombielike live-music junkies, gallons of Heineken Light—I’m honestly a little surprised I survived. By Sunday afternoon, the power nap I’d joked about in my itinerary accidentally became a reality. Fortunately I was conscious for Thee Oh Sees’ amazing 2:50 PM Blue-stage set—if you followed the Reader‘s interactive Pitchfork coverage, you might remember that pretty much everyone lost their shit for that. I knew that no matter how wiped out I was, it’d be silly of me to miss them playing again that night at the Bottle. By the time I arrived at the club, though, the last thing I wanted to hear was more bands, especially bands I didn’t already know—but openers the Mallard blew me away. They turned out to be one of the weekend’s surprise highlights.