Bumbershoot 2007 pt. 2

Somehow, not quite sure how, I forgot a major piece of The Shins experience: your new BFF. Yes, I used BFF (believe me, it's relevant). About halfway through the concert you are nudged by an adolescent blonde chick who "just wants to get by to get to where my friends are up there". You laugh borderline-hysterically in her face and say, "Honey, where do you expect to go?" Looking passed you and realizing you're right, she decides she's content where she is. Just when you think that was easy enough, she starts in. Before you know it, she is talking your ear off, incessantly, about how The Shins are just "like, soooo cool" and "like, I can't believe I'm actually seeing them". "Oh, and did you know they're like from Portland, which is like where I live…" God help you. You are suddenly looking for ways to get this girl to her friends. What were you thinking? There's gotta be a way to get her up there! Short of screaming, "Yo, Bitch! I'm not here to talk, I'm here to listen TO THE SHINS so shut the fuck up", you try your best to let her know you are all full up on friends today. In an honest effort to be diplomatic, you succumb to the head nods and uh-huhs and forced smiles. It's really sad when people don't recognize the I-Don't-Give-A-Flying-Fuck language.

From the Shins, you gather up the pieces of the beginnings of a splitting headache (possible causes being your BFF and multiple blows to the head by Sketchers, Vans, and Candies) and stand in line like cattle to exit the Memorial Stadium. All the while, you are thinking "Memorial, huh? Memorial to what? My willingness to ever attend an all-ages event again?" Hmmm… you'll have to google that one later.

Finally free of the juvenile masses, you make your way to the lesser of the 3 stages you will frequent all weekend. From afar you listen to the rock-out cuts of The Lashes and read in your free copy of Seattle Sound all about the tragic event that put The Lashes' lead in a wheelchair (ah, touching…). Sensing the wrap up, you gather your posse and start heading toward the goal. Your mission: to get as close to the stage for Menomena as possible. 10 minutes later, you find yourself close enough and once again amongst the preteens, though not quite as bad as hours before. Some annoying fourteen year old girl in a plaid shift dress is standing next to you, looking for ways to push with her friend to the front. "Oh my God, The Shins were soooo cool! I mean, I was sooo close, I coulda touched James. Oh my God, can you imagine, if I like reached out and grabbed him? The were sooo good. I like can't believe Jake crowdsurfed." Feeling the need to possibly vomit, and having learned a valuable lesson from The Shins BFF incident, you casually slide to the left and wait for her to push by. She takes the bait and off she goes. Thank God.

Back to the good stuff. Having never seen this Portland-based band in concert before, you are intrigued by the set up… at the sight of it, you have a feeling this concert is going to kick some major ass (lets cross our fingers and hope its some adolescent ass, right out of the damn festival). They have dual drumsets. And risers for what appear to be a choir. Hmmmm…. You're checking out the band – because that's what all concert whores do (oh come on now, even the innocent concert divas do it too). Yes, you see they all have what you kindly refer to as the "M-Ex" factor. Ask any girl about this, and though she probably will have never heard of M-Ex she'll most likely know what you're talking about when you explain it to her. M-Ex is the term used to describe the attraction phenomena that happens to 95% of all musicians. Give a guy a guitar and put him on stage (or on a beach, or in front of a sunset, or hell even in your bedroom) and the man becomes fucking gorgeous. Breath-takingly scrumptious. Hold-me-the-fuck-back hot. And, yes the men of Menomena are all subjects of the M-Ex factor. Less than 6 bars into the first track you are practically salivating to the sound of their voices.

Putting on by far a better show than The Shins, you are sad to hear them say this is their last song. For the last 70 mins, though you never forgot it was there, your headache seemed somewhat bearable and from there it will only get worse and turn into the worst migraine of your life. No doubt contributing to it, what ensues next is an all out Junior High reunion with all of the The Shins culprits and their late-coming friends. Aqueduct, while probably one of the most pleasant performers you've ever seen (the man can smile almost as much as you and that's a near-record), provides the strangest battleground for pre-teen moshing. Again, who does that? You can't help but zero in on one particular adolescent girl – she is all over the place. Wait a minute, isn't that the girl who wouldn't shut the hell up at Menomena? Yes, yes, it is the annoying plaid dress girl. Aw, Jesus. Where is her mother? Why is she here? Seriously, go away. Unfortunately, you have no idea that this is not the last you will see of her. Little do you know, she will show up not only again at 2 of the 3 concerts you check out on Monday, but also at the Spoon concert later in the week at the Showbox (at which time you seriously consider tripping her and stripsearching her for wires and stalking devices).

While Menomena blew pretty much everyone out of the water on Saturday, the last band on your Bumbershoot-Must-See-List takes the cake for the whole holiday weekend. The Frames, straight out of Ireland and hypnotizing the audience with their lovely Irish accents, put on the best damn show of the festival. I guess that's what five double-platinum records prepares ya for. Not only did they entertain you with chatter about things such as an intro to a song about "taking a ride with a handsome man", they did the Bumbershoot-unthinkable: they played an encore. And for added amazement, admiration, and complete awe, what does the lead singer do? He invites an audience member (who was clearly not at all expecting it), to sing with him on-stage. Ho-ly-hell. She sounds fucking amazing. Nevermind that her voice is slightly shaky (your's would be all over the charts if it were you up there), she's on key and harmonizes perfectly with the stunning young Irishman. There isn't a goosebump-free body in the audience. And, its enough for you to search out and buy Frames tickets for November later in the week.

And, so with that, feeling fully satisfied and pretty-much exhausted, you walk out the gate and say farewell to Bumbershoot 2007. Will you do the 3-day chaotic run again? Probably not. But, are you glad you did it this one time? Definitely. Afterall, even thought it was crawling with pre-teen glory, it was also pretty amazing, crazy even… you know, like a 1992 Jane's Addiction concert….

Bumbershoot 2007 pt.1

The Shins, Menomena, Aqueduct, Devotchka, Andrew Bird, The Lashes, The Frames – with a lineup that includes all of those and more, could it possibly be a bad weekend for an indie music-loving concert whore? Hmmmm… well, bad might not be the right word. Surprising, maybe. Disappointing, quite possibly. Why you ask? Let me paint you a picture….

You're standing in a crowd of 40- & 50-somethings all doing their baby-boomer jig to Crowded House, a band they so fondly remember from their 20's. The band that brought them Don't Dream Its Over (you know the song, "Hey now, hey now, don't dream its over…" It's the one you can't help but sing to because you remember it playing on the bus ride to gradeschool). And you don't really mind the music, or even the generation gap. You don't even really mind that the sun is beating down on you from one direction only, ensuring a lovely one-sided sunburn. All of this is completely bearable in anticipation of The Shins. They are set to play next, and you are plotting your move to rush to the front as soon as mom and pop and their friends get out of the way after this last song. Oh wait, it seems that the parents haven't gotten the memo: you don't get an encore at Bumbershoot. Hello! We're on a strict timeline! Get the fuck out of the way. As soon as they figure it out, you grab your friends and start weaving, gently pushing if necessary (think of it like a bar and your posse is on the other side – you don't feel bad then, do you?).

Successfully you find yourself about 10 feet from the stage, right in the middle. Oh you can envision James Mercer now – its gonna be fucking awesome. Content with your spot, you start to take in your surroundings. Suddenly you are aware that not only have the soon-to-be geriatrics left the premises, but that they have been replaced by their pre-teen children? WHERE ARE MY PEOPLE?!?! You look around frantically and all you see is a sea of Jr. High and High School kids. Trying not to panic at the adolescence surrounding you, you take a deep breath and remember that in just a few minutes you will be within a few feet of some pretty damn good musicians.

Just when you think you might be too old for this shit and feeling a bit hypocritical as you are now the old geezers in the crowd, out emerges Mr. Mercer with his equally impressive bandmates. In a few short bars, they have the crowd's full attention, energy writhing up through all of your veins. And its great for about 3 songs. Then, just when you've almost forgot about Jr. next to you, you see it out of the corner of your eye… a crowd surfer. WHO CROWD SURFS AT A SHINS CONCERT? Of course, it's a 14 year old, who else would it be? Rolling your eyes, turn you attention back to the Kevin Spacey – Dave Matthews lookalike. Unfortunately only a small percentage of people in this audience shares your opinion of crowd surfing. That one dumbass 14 year old has started a trend. And we know how fast trends spread in the teeny-bopper scene. Like fucking wildfire. Over the next hour, you pass at least 15 kids over your head, and that's just the ones that were coming down your path.

James Mercer at one point remarks on the fly, "Its getting crazy out there; looks like a 1992 Jane's Addiction concert." What's so great about that comment? The immediate head turns among the preteen crowd indicating they all have no idea who the fuck Jane's Addiction is, let alone remember anything that happened in the year 1992. Afterall, half of them weren't even born yet. Nice one, James, nice one! Thanks for that little shout out to us "older kids".

.....to be continued....