BY JOE WARMINSKY / PHOTOS BY TIFFANY YOON

The sun was setting, the air was relatively cool for a June day, and the crowd was engulfed in a persistent weed haze as Roots bandleader Questlove climbed the drum riser to run the sound-check for Public Enemy's performance at the 2009 Roots Family Picnic. Questo's prodigious, oval-shaped afro -- with a pick jutting out from one side -- was wondrously backlit by the evening glow, serving as a gentle reminder that P.E. was coming onstage to make some black-power music. But that point might've been lost on many of the younger members of the majority-white audience that had gathered on Philadelphia's no-frills Festival Pier. To hip-hop fans who were in diapers in the 1980s, P.E.'s racial rhetoric might seem outmoded, but the group's rebel sound is obviously ageless.

P.E. was in the house to perform its most rebellious record, 1988's It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back, backed by not only Questlove on drums, but also members of the horn-heavy Brooklyn Afrobeat band Antibalas and a handful of DJs and hype men (including the Roots' Black Thought). The musicians' goal wasn't a nerdy, note-for-note recreation of the record, which is deliberately shrill; instead, the songs were done out-of-sequence and with a dense, funky, thunderous mix. In that sense, the model track for the day's sound probably was the bottom-heavy "Caught, Can I Get A Witness," not the metallic "She Watch Channel Zero" or the midrange masterpiece "Bring The Noise" (both of which sounded huge, nonetheless). A little more nerdiness would've been nice, but not necessary. Chuck D's rhymes cut right through the noise, even if the horns didn't.

Professor Griff was there; Terminator X wasn't, but P.E. performed "Terminator X To The Edge of Panic" anyway. Flavor Flav, meanwhile, seemed enthused just to be doing what made him famous in the first place, even if he seemed to fake his way through some of "Cold Lampin' With Flavor." After P.E. capped its set with 1989's "Fight The Power" - which didn't appear on Nation Of Millions but served as the bridge to 1990's Fear Of A Black Planet -- Flav hogged the stage. He half-ranted about how the show was instantly legendary for him ... and then dragged out rapper Beanie Sigel, who addressed the crowd briefly and reluctantly. If anything, Flav's moment was more about being a loose cannon than a total clown. Afterward, the crowd smelled more like cigarettes than weed.

Although the Roots themselves bookended the bill and invited hip-hop up-and-comers such as 'burb wonder Asher Roth and the Kanye West-approved Kid Cudi (both of whom appeared in the air-conditioned side tent), the curators brought in plenty of rock, too, making the show feel like Bonnaroo East at times. (Last year's Picnic had Deerhoof.)

In the afternoon, Santigold's alt-pop shifted the show into another gear, even if her set lagged a little at the end. Noting that she rarely tours with a full backing band, she did "Lights Out," the New Wave-y song that got famous last year via a beer commercial. It was tight. The Black Keys' dinnertime performance, conversely, was a loose, ingratiating example of how to play blues-rock while the sun is still out. The Ohio duo's garagey quasi-hit "10 A.M. Automatic," for instance, was a warm, stretchy, almost-funky thing.

After Public Enemy's onslaught was finished, TV On The Radio powered through a set that leaned heavily on last year's lovingly crafted Dear Science. The P.A. system was TVOTR's undoing, however. About two-thirds of the New Yorkers' songs rumbled with the same level of bombast as P.E.'s performance; for a band that lately has embraced R&B nuance, it was unfortunate. Frontman Tunde Adebimpe exuded plenty of energy and joyousness, but his vocals -- and the Antibalas horns, onstage yet again -- were devoured by the mix. A handful of songs at the end (including "Crying") finally got the clarity and detail that they deserved.

[Photos credit: Tiffany Yoon/Courtesy Of Phawker.Com]