McCarren Park spoiled me. The pool parties are always easy to navigate- with plenty of room to spread out and enjoy a top notch show on a summer day.  This all hit me as I waited in line for nearly an hour to make my way into the Santogold show at Central Park Summerstage on Sunday.

The line stretched nearly four blocks on the (literally) steaming pavement leading up to the Rumsey Playfield stage- barely moving until well after 3 p.m. While watching the swarms of sweating neon-clad hipsters provided marginal entertainment, the heat coupled with the annoyance of waiting made me wish I had chosen the McCarren Park show instead.

Convinced there was no chance at actually getting into the venue, Leo, our photographer/show-going partner in crime, began documenting the monumental line- so we would have something to show for our journey from Brooklyn to Manhattan.  But, as soon as he started snapping photos, the line began to move.  So, after an hour of waiting (on the hottest day of the year), we finally began moving towards the gate five yards at a time.

By 3:30, we were safely inside- ushered by dozens of yelling, sweating security guards noisily herding the crowds onto the astroturf.  Just as we walked in, Mz Streamz took the stage- shaking her ass, whether or not her mic was turned on.  By the second song, the DJs had the music, mics, and dancers going at full tilt.  Feeding off of her (and her dancers' enegry), the crowd perked up and began what would be an all day dance extravaganza.

And, the dancing continued through the seemingly never-ending DJ sets.  I'm not going to bore you with reviews of each DJ, because, well, to me, they didn't seem much different.

To be entirely honest, I thought Diplo and A-Trak were joking when they announced they'd each play for an hour.  About an hour in, the crowd's buzz and energy started to fade.

When I made my way over to the concession stand for yet another drink, I noticed that the crowd had switched from beer to water- having completely dehydrated themselves through the hours of dancing.  I also noticed a loud screeching sound coming from the corner behind the stand, which is when I got my first look at Santogold.  Yup, that's right. She didn't show until 5:45.

She popped out of her black SUV-entourage in tow- and made her way to the backstage area an hour before the stage was set to close.  I swear the teenage girls who began the screeching thought she was John Lennon.  They screamed.  They cried.  They frantically took pictures.

About twenty minutes later, Santogold took the stage, and she was incredible.  In all fairness, the heat, the anticipation, the crowds might have all been worth her abbreviated set.  Her voice is stronger than her albums indicate, and she just might be the coolest woman on the planet.  If she was opening for anyone other than Coldplay, I'd suggest catching her whenever you possibly can on her summer tour, but I'm not sure if Chris Martin is worth it.  Aw, hell. Buy the ticket, and when she's done, head to your nearest club.  Santogold, if nothing else, will get your ass shaking.

And, if you haven't heard the new Santogold and M.I.A remix, head over to Stereogum for a listen.