Portable Confessional Units
Eugene Mirman
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Have you ever confessed? If you grew up Catholic, chances are you did at least a few times a year. Maybe you told the priest you had impure thoughts, and he told you to say 12 Hail Marys and 10 Our Fathers. That made it all better, right? No more impure thoughts. Well...maybe not, but it must've felt good to at least get that off your shoulders, huh? These Portable Confessional Units are designed to do just that, but without the creepy priest eyeballing you. They're open every day of the festival. But let's face it—it's Sunday, and it's what Jesus would want. Northwest Rooms. 11 a.m.–8 p.m.
We could go on and on about how good-looking the Watson Twins are in person, but we run the risk of turning them into another Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley—the kind of roots-pop beauties that both indie rockers and their dads can agree on. Fact is, like Lewis (whom they backed up on her solo effort, Rabbit Fur Coat), they sing sugary country and folk songs that call to mind a more metropolitan Loretta Lynn. They are actually twins, so sit back and be amazed by the power of genetics when those two start harmonizing. Sound Transit Stage. 2:15–3:15 p.m.
Somebody once tried to argue with us that Eugene Mirman was only funny 80 percent of the time. The rest of the time, his jokes make him fall flat on his face. For us, however, nothing compares to watching a comedian recover from a lame joke, and Mirman is one of the best at it. So we think he's funny all the time. He's a complete nerd, so his comedy is spiced with exaggerations of sci-fi voices and awkward jokes about waking up naked in front of elementary schools. Performing with Fred Armisen and Brent Weinbach. Intiman Theatre. 4–5 p.m.
Book of Black Earth
Book of Black Earth are the blackest of the black metal. Though they state it was the ashes of Teen Cthulhu from which they rose, their motherland is clearly the same stark landscape from which Norwegian and Swedish bands of the same ilk came. They may not be burning churches, but these metal Vikings are no softies; their sound is as hard as the hammers crushing skulls depicted on their band T-shirts. Tipper Gore would likely crap her pants after hearing tracks like "May Your God Deny You" or "Occult Machinery" live—though those who stay aren't much safer. Bring a change of pants. EMP Sky Church. 6:30–7:30 p.m.
We once saw Michael Ian Black on the subway in New York, but it took awhile to place him. He was long gone by the time we figured it out—it was that guy from I Love the... (whatevers) on VH1! Well, at the Charlotte Martin Theatre this weekend, it's likely not one goddamn person will have trouble placing his face. At this point, M.I.B.'s career has resonated with outcasts and frat boys alike, with his television shows The State and Stella, the life-altering cinematic genius of Wet Hot American Summer (a film by which many gauge compatibility levels—we're quite sure there's a study somewhere to back up that claim), and much, much more. Yes, like the name of his McSweeney's online column states, at this point, "Michael Ian Black is a Very Famous Celebrity." Charlotte Martin Theatre. 7:30–8:30 p.m.
By now, he's the freak-folk poster child, whatever that means. But his long hair, beard, beads, and headbands have often overshadowed his music. If you are of the "seen-him-but-ain't-heard-him" camp, he sings hippie-ish song-sketches about life's little pleasures. His voice is warbly and cracked like Billie Holiday's on Lady in Satin, but not nearly as devastated. He's a weirdo, for sure, but an oddly compelling one. He hasn't played Seattle in quite a while, but since his most recent performance, his music has become a barista favorite. Sound Transit Stage. 9:30–10:45 p.m.
