“Plane issues” was the reason given at ACL Weekend 1 as Kendrick Lamar arrived damagingly late for his Friday headlining set, then blitzed through as many songs as he could in half an hour before his mic was cut. (Maybe in some other forum, we could all assess how trite and generic the use of the word “issues” in this context has become over about the last 25 or 30 years.) Of course, Kendrick (top photo) had some making up to do last night for Weekend 2. And make up he did — at least for anyone who was there for both Fridays, but also for ACL and Austin as a whole.

While some might periodically come for that throne Lamar angrily claims in “King Kunta,” his full 70-minute headlining set on Friday was a resounding reminder that after a career of more than a decade, nobody today is a better, more well-rounded creator and ambassador of hip-hop. All Lamar needed to wow what seemed like an even-more-massive-than-usual Zilker Park crowd was essentially himself (head shrouded in darkness under a cap and towel), his flow of otherworldly dexterity and a handful of identical-looking, artistically awkward-moving backup dancers all seemingly dressed and coiffed as younger Kendrick.

No highlight — and there were plenty — was better than “Money Trees,” that classic good kid, m.A.A.D. city track onto which Lamar embellished a symphonic-sounding, grand bent, with one of the dancers scooting around the stage on a skateboard. All the essential Kendrick was on the set list — “Swimming Pools (Drank),” “m.A.A.D. city,” “Alright” and more — the crowd was overwhelmingly happy, and last week seemed forgotten, other than one point when Kendrick appeared to acknowledge it. Hey, platinum records and Pulitzers don’t necessarily make your plane issue-proof. Stars: They’re just like us.

Other notes from a very solid Day 1:

• Speaking of massive crowds, one of the stunners of the day was just how big a crowd Ethel Cain drew for her mid-afternoon set. Less of a stunner, but still a bit of a surprise: how much of an engaging and traditional showwoman Cain is, given the moody, no-wavey dream alternative she trades in. Some performers in the ballpark of Cain’s genre don’t concern themselves with connecting with a crowd. But in a rather amazing set, Cain did so literally and spiritually, heading into the crowd multiple times and providing the most touching moment of the day when she did so for the rousing “American Teenager.” She sang into the face of an adoring, roughly early-20s man who knew all the words, captured on the video board. With “American Teenager” still going, the board cut to Cain returning to the stage, then back to the dude, who was full-on crying after the religious experience, with a friend consoling him. An everyday presence look-wise on the stage (black T-shirt and jeans), but with talent you don’t find every day, Cain proved to be something special as a performer.
• Lil Yachty’s adventurousness in releasing a psych-rock record earlier this year is commendable. But it was the music he made his name on — the “bubblegum trap” and the aggressive party-ready hip-hop — that resonated much more than his newer work, which consumed most of the second half of his set. “From the D to the A” and the catchy “iSpy” (both feature appearances for Yachty on tracks by other artists) were representative of the more danceable, jumpable moments that made the set sing. The full-band turn for the psych rock stuff off Let’s Start Here had its moments, but the results were more mixed. Still, Yachty’s set was a thumbs up overall, with his focused intensity and mischievous smile providing the fun his best music is known for.
• We Don’t Ride Llamas, local metal-rooted siblings with eclectic leanings, were a pounding early highlight, playing in the nasty 1:40 p.m. heat. Mixing in a slew of new, socially conscious songs with a delightful cover of the “Daria” theme song and their punk-minded opener “The Flies,” WDRL presented themselves democratically, with each Mitchell sibling except guitarist Chase taking turns on emceeing duties and describing the societal inspiration behind several songs. Vocalist Max has the fire and acid that the band’s dark, disaffected bent demands, and drummer Blake hits the snare with relentless force, giving a metal feel to even most of the songs that aren’t metal. The band got cut short a song, but it didn’t work out as badly as you might have thought: the unintentional closer was “Two-Inch Grave,” a new song dedicated to the 246 lives lost and the horrors of Winter Storm Uri in 2021. For those of us who lived through it, the righteously angry offering — complete with a reference to Ted Cruz hitting the road to Cancun — was a most cathartic outlet for feelings that will always linger. Uri was terrible. A young band, We Don’t Ride Llamas have already shown they can turn “terrible” into an eye-opening firestorm.