So many annual events in Madison feel so...Madison-y, you know?

The Willy Street Fair, of course, almost to a fault. Brat Fest, too -- that meaty gorge keeps breaking new records and guts. The Wisconsin Film Festival, the Orton Park Festival. Even the fledgling Forward Music Fest is on its way to feeling like a representative ecosystem of our town.

But Freakfest? Not so much. Walking around State Street Saturday night at the fourth annual city-sanctioned party, I felt like an outsider in my own town.

It hit me as I walked into the convenience store at the corner of Gilman and State. A security mercenary stood guard by the candy rack but the doors were flung wide open as if to say "Come pillage us!" A college-aged guy standing in line announced his intention to buy Nyquil as a chaser.

A block away, the street was getting crunchy with discarded sampler cups of Amp Energy, Freakfest's main sponsor. At least two locally-owned restaurants sell tasty pizza by the slice on State Street, yet a Papa John's food cart got prominent street intersection placement.

At the secondary music stage at Gilman, former Madisonians Locksley played a fun headlining set at midnight for maybe 200 or 300 people, tops. (The last time this group of West High grads performed in Madison, they played the 900-plus-capacity Barrymore Theatre. They're kind of a big deal.) Meanwhile, the masses elbowed their way up to the Capitol to see Third Eye Blind, a band last popular when the majority of the crowd was in fourth grade. Once up there, the crowd crush was awful -- so thick and sloshy that enjoying any music was near impossible.

Yes, Freakfest is a watered-down, tame version of its formerly wild self, as Emily Mills suggested last week in Isthmus. On one level, this is fine: for the cost of an entrance fee and relatively minimal corporatization, we get safety, security and decent -- though by no means exciting -- entertainment. Most importantly: no broken windows, no riots and no pepper spray.

But let's not kid ourselves: this is not a party for all Madisonians. It's as college as it gets and as devoid of personality as a store-bought Halloween costume.

It doesn't need to be so bland. The seeds of what could be are already there. Like last year, Frank Productions booked good local bands (The Nod in particular won me over Saturday with their sped-up, punky cover of Marcy Playground's "Sex and Candy"). And many people made costume-gawking entertaining by putting a little thought and creativity into their outfits (my favorites were T-Pain, a human Tetris game, and Northwest pilots "trying to find Minneapolis").

Despite these positive elements, Freakfest doesn't hold much draw for people older than 22. The organizers don't seem to be putting a lot of thought into making it inclusive or uniquely Madison. Instead, it still feels like a college initiation rite -- and a pre-packaged one at that.

By way of comparison, The Frequency felt as Madison as it gets on Saturday night (albeit a tiny sampling). Close to 1 a.m., a crowd of Madison show regulars filled up the club to hear local post-punk band The United Sons of Toil pay tribute to Joy Division, with add-on Chris Vance emulating Ian Curtis' coarse voice. Dubbing themselves "Leaders of Men," the foursome played a great set of Joy Division's harsher songs, Vance jerking and worming his body to the music.

A group of nuns in the crowd nodded and mouthed along the lyrics. One mock-threatened the band with a paint stirrer, and another encouraged, "Channel it, Chris, channel it!"

Now that felt more like home.

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