It booked a decent number of locals, though most were clustered at the beginning of each day (I heard Femdot, Supa Bwe, and the Cool Kids while I was waiting outside the gates Saturday). Summer Smash combined an eclectic bill of rappers with acts on the fringe of hip-hop, such as electronic trap DJ and producer Carnage. His latest single, last week’s “Still,” includes a shout-out to Fredo Santana (Kream broke the news of Fredo’s death last year), and he got the crowd to shout “RIP Fredo.” Harlem hero Cam’ron maintained a cool, in-the-pocket energy while breezing through his early-2000s hits, though he was on the wrong stage at the wrong time and most of the audience didn’t seem to care-the majority of the fans at Summer Smash were probably in diapers when Cam’ron broke out, if they were even born. Houston’s Maxo Kream, who delivered one of the best sets at last year’s Summer Smash, masterfully raced through his unbreakable street raps. It helped that I stuck with acts I knew wouldn’t disappoint. I never thought I’d live long enough to see a crowd that was too young for Cam’ron. And more often than not, what was in front of me was enough fun to neutralize my FOMO. I already knew I couldn’t see everything, but rather than get hung up on whether I’d miss City Girls (I did, in fact, miss City Girls), I decided to focus more on what was in front of me. The Summer Smash is the largest rap festival in the city, and I was at least mildly curious about 75 percent of the lineup. Once I gave up on trying to follow my own timetable-which happened Saturday afternoon, around the time north-side phenom Polo G failed to show-a lot of my frustration went with it. Somehow the haywire schedule worked to the Summer Smash’s advantage, though. I’m not even going to get into the no-shows and last-minute changes, except to say that I feel bad for the Boogie Wit da Hoodie fans posted up at the second stage and cheering for him to come out, with no way of learning that he’d already performed on the main stage. On Friday, the fest announced the 34 acts appearing on its third stage (including rising Houston rapper TisaKorean and Chicago radio legend DJ Pharris), though I didn’t find its set times in the app till Sunday. The schedule was only available via app, and it didn’t match the information posted on the grounds via screens embedded in a giant lemonade carton in the middle of the field (which only showed schedules for the two main stages).

Megan Thee Stallion performed in the slot originally scheduled for A Boogie Wit da Hoodie, which worked out great for everybody except the people trying to see her actual set. This year’s Summer Smash, though, hosted more than 70 acts on three stages, so it was harder to stop worrying about what you might miss and just go with the flow. It also worked well at the first Summer Smash in August 2018, which was also in Douglas Park but had just one stage and one day of music. Lyrical Lemonade did better at translating this feel to its big summertime event when it was called the Summer Bash and happened at the Portage Theater. In an intimate club with a receptive audience, this disorganization can be charming, and I’ve discovered more than one artist by getting ambushed by their set.

You know the kind of gig I’m talking about: you go intending to catch one specific rapper, only to see three or four others first who weren’t even on the bill (after an hour-long DJ set or two, of course). The fest had the seat-of-the-pants feel you sometimes get from rap shows at nightclubs, and once I relaxed into it, I enjoyed it. Almost everyone who was supposed to perform still did, albeit frequently with shortened sets-rap festivals have a definite advantage when it comes to turnaround time between acts, since so few people use live instrumentation. Saturday’s sets had been so sloppily scheduled that all three stages were sometimes simultaneously dark for 15 minutes or more, and Sunday’s weather essentially forced the organizers to get their act together. IDK’s fans chanted, “Fuck that shit,” but the subsequent four-hour delay-nearly half a day’s programming-wasn’t the disaster for the Summer Smash that it might’ve been for any other outdoor fest. The Douglas Park festival had barely started its second day-it was around 2 PM, and Maryland rapper IDK had just removed the Reagan mask he’d worn for his grand entrance-when a voice cut through on the PA telling the crowd that the music would stop till the weather cleared up. In a strange way it was a blessing when Sunday afternoon’s severe thunderstorms put the Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash on hold.

Lyrical lemonade cans