Falling Slowly With the Frames

Posted Sep. 5, 2007 at 6:30 pm by Hannah Levin

This week in my column, I told the story of the young woman who was pulled up on stage to accompany Frames frontman Glen Hansard during his encore Monday night. In the age of Youtube, it's not surprising that somebody Memorexed the moment, and I'm very grateful they did.

I just watched the clip, and even though it's understandably shaky (and took an oddly long time to load), it's just about one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. Just watching her shake her head with amazement towards the end nearly brought me to tears (again). And thank goodness the girl had the pipes to back up her promises. Way to go, Joy (thanks to Crankleft for the footage):

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Bumbershoot Day Three: Rapping up with Lupe and Wu-Tang

Posted Sep. 4, 2007 at 12:19 pm by Travis Ritter

Photo By Marcella D. Volpintesta. Click the photo for a slideshow of Wu-Tang's set. 

Wu-Tang Clan was definitely the talk of Bumbershoot yesterday, with 40-50 Wu-Tang (and related Clan member) shirts spotted, and overhearing just as many conversations and people spitting Wu verses in passing. I knew their headlining slot at Memorial Stadium was going to be a ceremonious ending to a very long, diverse, and enjoyable weekend of music, so I made it my final destination. No Steve Earle or Ted Leo this year.

Even though I was near the back of Memorial Stadium when up-and-coming Chicago MC Lupe Fiasco first came on stage, the super clean, all-white outfit he was wearing made him easy to spot as he traipsed all over the stage like a ghost from the future.

"We're going to party 'til the Seattle Police Department shut us down," he said to the swelling crowd of teenagers before him, who were sneaking puffs off joints and sips of alcohol out of Camelbak backpacks. 

Backed by fellow Chicago MC Jemini, the Grammy-nominated rapper worked the crowd like a seasoned vet, mixing a bulk of his hit-or-miss 2006 debut, Lupe Fiasco's Food and Liquor and some new material that he calls some "future 2027 shit." In between, he hyped the crowd with hand pumps, "come live" call-and-responses, and "Fuck Bush" statements ("with a cherry on top and the Space Needle up his ass"). Naturally, the crowd's response was unanimously enthusiastic. He reworked his breakthrough skateboard single, "Kick, Push" with a beat change on every verse, and "I Gotcha" and a noticeable political/war agenda on his new songs ("American Terrorist"?). He was a relentless performer, much better live than on record, warming up the crowd to what they were really were there for: Wu-Tang Clan.

A few minutes after Lupe ended, a friend and I predicted how late after Wu would come out after their scheduled 9:30 start. I said 9:52. I got my numbers mixed up. At 9:25, Wu emerged, sans Ghostface Killah and maybe a couple others (from where I was standing, I had trouble telling Method Man and Inspectah Deck apart.) Locking in the crowd with "Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nothin' Ta F' Wit," and "Da Mystery of Chessboxin'", they followed with a cut off GZA's Liquid Swords, and a Cappadonna joint, before returning to "C.R.E.A.M.", and "Method Man," appeasing the mass of people who know Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) verse-for-verse, word-for-word (myself included).

Throughout much of the set, the music was unfortunately undermined by too much bass or too much treble, and too many microphones, and "Bells of War," one of my favorite tracks on Wu-Tang Forever, suffered because of that.

At Wu's request, the stage lights were shut off, and a sea of lighters and cell phones were cast into the air in tribute of their fallen soldier, Ol' Dirty Bastard. Wu ceremoniously dropped "Shimmy Shimmy Ya," and it truly felt like a moment of worship. "O.D.B.! G.O.D.!"

Afterward, the music became clearer, leading into "Triumph," a Method Man acapella of "Shame on a Nigga" and (I think) "Uzi-Pinky Rings." Method Man worked the crowd like the world's best hype man and strategic marketer at the same time, getting the entire stadium to scream as loud as they could for more music, as well as a new Wu-Tang album.

"Five more, shit, ten more! We'll go all night."

Unfortunately, time was up. As a track from their forthcoming 8 Diagrams album played, the members slowly dispersed, while Method Man gave shout outs to Seattle, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and repeated "Hotel 1000" like a woman-trapping mantra.

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Don't Knock The Rok

Posted Sep. 4, 2007 at 7:33 am by Brian J Barr

Photo by Marcella D. Volpintesta. Click the photo for a slideshow of the set. 

Roky Erickson's Bumbershoot performance was one of the strangest and most amazing things I've ever seen. Knowing the condition he was in only a couple years ago (he's lived most of his life an unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic) made the show that much more engaging. Strolling out on stage in a big, loud Hawaiian shirt, frizzy gray hair hanging down his shoulders, and a childlike glaze over his face, he held up his arms so his rhythm guitarist could strap a guitar over his shoulders. Then the band tore into Roky's "horror rock" classic "It's A Cold Night for Alligators". Given that I put his 70s work on the same playing field as the Stooges Fun House, it was an ideal opener. The band was tight, a group of middle-aged Austinites who've been playing with Roky since the 80s. Their sound gave the songs a more 12-bar Texas blues boogie feel than Roky's original band, the Aliens. As I told my wife and friends, if the songs weren't about two-headed dogs, bloody hammers, and satan, and sung by a really whacked-out looking guy, you might pass them off as another Stevie Ray Vaughan-lite band. But this is exactly what made their set so intriguing.

Roky himself seemed to be in full control. Aside from a slight rasp during high notes and a natural deepening of the voice (comes with age), he still sounds as fresh as he did in the 70s. He ran through a set that included "Don't Shake Me Lucifer", "Two-Headed Dog", "Bloody Hammer", Starry Eyes", and, of course, the 13th Floor Elevators' "You're Gonna Miss Me". This particular song really got the gray-hairs in the crowd boogying. Between songs, all Roky could do was raise his hand, grin like a Dr Suess character and say "Thank you!" I don't know whether this is all they're allowing him to say, or all he is able to say, but it was both awkward and endearing. They closed with a really beautiful "I Walked with a Zombie". Most in the audience probably knew Roky's backstory, given that it was made up of local luminaries like Mark Arm, Peter Buck, Scott Giampino, a handful of El Chupacabra regulars, and a lot of record geek types. This lent a triumphant feel to the set, especially when his lead guitarist quipped "It's the year of Roky Erickson" and the audience responded with resounding applause.

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Bumbershoot: Day Three

Posted Sep. 4, 2007 at 6:15 am by Aja Pecknold

Fleet Foxes (I'm lucky to call frontman Robin Pecknold my brother) kicked off the day in the festival's equivalent of the eye of the storm, the plush, air-conditioned KEXP Music Lounge and played a beautiful set chock full of new material, that even I hadn't been privy to yet. Highlights included the guys nailing the many part harmonies of "White Winter Hymnal" and Brother Pecknold showcased his golden pipes solo with "Oliver James", a minimalistic melodic folk tale. A longer set later in the day at EMP's (always eerily corporate) Sky Church stage gave them a chance to supplement the newer jams with some they've played out in the past like "My Love."

Chicago's Andrew Bird was up next in the lounge (for his second set of the festival), who I've never had the chance to play, not did I know much about going in. He was incredible, starting off with a sound check that would have been worth the ticket price (well, maybe not the $35 ticket price, but easily $15 or $20) alone. Using a violin and pedals to loop many different parts, he was like a full orchestra one man show. For the main course, he ran through a range of material from his own, where he seemed to magically morph his violin into everything from ukelele to guitar and even a flute to a cover of friends, The Handsome Family's "The Giant of Illinois" which sounded much better even than the original. A couple songs into the set, he kicked off his shows, likely to allow a greater sensitivity for the pedals, to reveal a set of pretty nice striped socks.

Light in the Attic's The Blakes will have no problem garnering a rabid fan base with their forthcoming full-length release on the local label. These guys were made for rock and roll, in the most classic sense, and their showing at Bumbershoot did nothing but solidify that. Dressed all in vests, the guys sweat their way through rock jammers that included crowd favorite "Pistol Grip" and lyrical content like "If you're not with another man, then I'd like to be with you tonight." Later in the day, as their frontman strutted past a group of young fans who called out "You rock!" as he walked by, he turned, pointed at the kids and said "No. You rock!" before heading backstage to watch the Frames.

Barsuk husband and wife duo Viva Voce (Portland's Kevin and Anita Robinson) have a tough time putting on a bad show- Anita alone can hold the interest of the crowd with her serious shredding skills, and today was no exception. Dressed in a flowing summer dress, she wailed on her whammy bar while Kevin posted up behind the drum kit, looking on in admiration as they ran through much of the material on their latest release Get Yr Blood Sucked Out like pros. Kevin gave a shout-out to Easy Street, calling them out despite the fact that the stage's main sponsor was national chain FYE. How punk rock.

Sonic Boom Record's Siberian ran through a clean sounding, energetic set of good old fashioned anthemic indie rock replete with squealing tween girls in the front row, snapping pictures on their camera phones and arguing over their favorites. Frontman Fin could likely hold his own in a karaoke showdown with Thom York if he needed to.

I was giddy over the chance to catch Roky Erickson's set, as I'd just seen (like many others) You're Gonna Miss Me, the documentary that chronicles his struggles as a schitzophrenic, going from putting out records with the 13th Floor Elevators to putting together a band with child killers and rapists in a loony bin to living with his mother and about a thousand electronic devices that are always on. The crowd clearly loved him, and shouted their sentiments at the stage between each song. I only caught the end, but from what I saw, the guy clearly hasn't lost it. "Two Headed Dog" and others came through like the rock gems they are, executed with Erickson's bluesy yowls.

The auditorium wasn't quite as overflowing with hipsters as I'd imagined it would be for Miranda July's powerpoint presentation (no joke) on her website/book Learning to Love You More, a group of over 60 assignments that people can do themselves and then submit, but those that were perhaps getting a prime spot for the Wu missed a sweet performance. Suffering from jet lag (she'd been in Ireland the day before) and sporting an awesome, what must be a perm induced, afro July took the crowd through several assignments to demonstrate the idea. During an assignment called Heal Yourself, she even passed out to the crowd, note cards with the steps to follow to cure heartache, (Step 1: If you were living together, get a new bed. If you can't afford a new bed then sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag until you get rid of the old mattress) which she said did work for her during a recent break up. She encouraged even those in what may seem like solid unions to take a card and "keep it in you wallet, because really, you never know."

Enter the Wu: the floor at Memorial Stadium was packed solid when the Clan took the stage, opening with "Wu Tang Clan Ain't Nothing to Fuck Wit" and, as they showed over the course of their raucous set, they still aren't. A tribute to their fallen comrade O.D.B had the crowd chanting so loud, I could hear it all the way home as I headed up the hill, tired and happy after riding the beast that proved to be one of the best years Bumbershoot I've had yet. Now, back to bed.

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PHOTOS: Wu-Tang Clan/Lupe Fiasco

Posted Sep. 4, 2007 at 1:37 am by Michael Alan Goldberg

Full reviews and more photos are coming soon, but for now, here's a few shots I snapped during last night's Wu-Tang Clan and Lupe Fiasco sets:

 

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Monday Evening at Bumbershoot: From 33 1/3 to the 13th Floor

Posted Sep. 4, 2007 at 1:17 am by Travis Ritter

As if Bumbershoot was synced in with the oft-temperamental weather we get around here, rain and rumbling thunder followed Wu-Tang Clan's enthusiastic closing set at Memorial Stadium. In a way, the rains officially signified the end to the Bumbershoot weekend, and summer for a lot of folks. All weekend, the weather was pleasant, and the a lot of the music and programming aimed to represent that (except maybe Book of Black Earth). As much as I'm relieved it's over, I'm still buzzing with the many sights and sounds I managed to take in under 36 hours.

Writers, particularly music writers, have to remember that music is still the primary foundation of their trade, and sometimes analytical words and hyperbole spoil the music's message or meaning. Not the case with the 33 1/3 books, all written by some of today's notable music critics about a particular album they have a connection to, in the style of memoir or fiction or however else they please. While Los Angeles Times' Ann Powers moderated the reading, Yeti editor Mike McGonigal captured the feelings of when he first saw My Bloody Valentine live, and what he heard on their benchmark, Loveless. Kate Schatz's book on PJ Harvey's Rid of Me is one of fiction, a story based on two characters in song, Michaelangelo Matos discussed his fascination and personal history to Prince's Sign 'o the Times, and Eric Weisbard involved memory for piecing together his thoughts on Use Your Illusion I and II, what he predicted, and what he discovered in the process. All great books on their own, they're best when read, not spoken.

At EMP, Fleet Foxes played (for the second time today), and a lot of Seattle music industry peeps were in the crowd to hear 'em stretch out their earlier, shorter set at the Bumbershoot Music Lounge in a much larger, and louder venue. The transition was easily adaptable, and even though it was the second time I heard a bunch of these songs, I'd still give them another 56 or 253 listens before I become entirely sick of them.

The geezers came out for former 13th Floor Elevator frontman, Roky Erikson, and Roky gave the geezers what they really, really like: the blues. 12 bar blues, Texas boogie, sadness in celebration. What I've long known about Erikson's tragic past - the electro-shock therapy, the schizophrenia - no longer appears to be the case. It is like Erikson has taken his long absence from music, and reinvented himself as that cool misunderstood guy and the new blues savior. Who would've thought?!

Final recap of Lupe Fiasco and Wu-Tang Clan in the morning. For now, it's time to rest.

 

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Monday at Bumbershoot: Viva Voce

Posted Sep. 3, 2007 at 7:27 pm by Chris Kornelis

Click the photo for a slideshow of the set. All photos by Marcella D. Volpintesta. 

Another great set from Viva Voce.

This has been my Voce summer. After seeing them at Sasquatch! I started to get it, and every time I see/hear them, I'm more impress.

Here's a track from their set today on the Broad Street stage.

 

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Monday Morning Bumbershoot: The Blakes, John Legend, Ohmega Watts

Posted Sep. 3, 2007 at 7:04 pm by Chris Kornelis

Photos by Marcella D. Volpintesta. Click the photo for a slideshow of The Blakes' set. 

Listen to the Blakes, live at Bumbershoot.

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Notes by Travis Ritter 

Arrived to the grounds shortly after noon, in time to catch twenty minutes of Fleet Foxes' broadcasting live on KEXP. These days, with the possibility of being heard all around the world, I only hope that someone heard what we did, something that was golden rich with purity and truth. Songwriter Robin Pecknold has a voice of pure honey, a bold cure-all that naturally occurs. Fleet Foxes are one of those bands should have everything that Neil Young, Coldplay, and David Crosby have achieved – the respect of such impeccable song craft that moves and touches you. I've heard that they're in the talks with a record label, and are recording their forthcoming debut with NW indie mastermind, Phil Ek. Their new material is really, really good. I can't wait to hear more when they play at 6:15 at the Sky Church.

Over to Yeti at the Literary Arts Stage, where I had one of the most endearing and sentimental experiences as a writer. Yeti is the Portland based zine published by Mike McGonigal and the time used during their block was as diverse as its pages content. I walked in while a woman, whose name I missed (playwright Stacey Levine, maybe?) She read an eloquent, yet troubling and conflicted account of a woman frustrated by her grandmother. Next up was Spencer Moody, Triumph of Lethargy member, who came out with a child-size acoustic guitar and played an somber, Arab Strap-ish song alongside nimble guitarist Tennessee Rose and then noticeably shaking while reading two pieces of short fiction. Afterward, an afro-sporting, soon-to-be fourth-grader named Joshua Lindenmayer came out and sat down next to Moody to do an interview. Throughout the awkward, obviously first interview Joshua has ever done, he fiddled with the mic and shuffled his chair all around and asked things like “What band are you in?” “What's your favorite band name?” “If you had an island, what would you name it?” and “What is your favorite question I have asked you today?” in between a lot of “umm's” before turning the asking Moody to interview him. This kind of stuff isn't scripted. I remember my first interview vividly, and I think I will remember this kid's for a long time too.

Caught Joss Stone just as her backing band was wrapping up their James Brown-inspired instrumental soul build-up, and she emerged as the first performer at Memorial Stadium today. The place was noticeably more crowded than Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's opening slot yesterday, but Stone worked the crowd like a baby-faced professional, totally in tune with her seasoned seven-piece band and three back-up singers, strutting and working the stage with a soulful, even sexy swagger.

Had to leave to catch Portland hip hop MC/DJ Ohmega Watts, who brought the golden age of hip hop out of hibernation for the people- a block party lemonade and grill feeling set with a lot of typical hip hop posturing and respect-seeking unity. Nothing new, but still right for the mind and attitude of the weekend.

Bounced to the Blakes, whose simple, catchy sound had all the right ingredients to be the next big thing (as much as I hate that phrase) and the reception to their first ever Bumbershoot performance was huge. Autograph sessions afterward? Awesome!

Cooled down with Night Canopy in the desolate north west quadrant of Seattle Center. Amy Blaschke reminds me both of Dusty Springfield and Stevie Nicks. By the time she played solo to close off her set, I was already under her spell.

Coming up: 33 1/3 reading, Fleet Foxes, Roky Erickson, Lupe Fiasco and Wu-Tang Clan.

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Photos: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Posted Sep. 3, 2007 at 12:55 pm by Michael Alan Goldberg

Renee's BRMC photos are fantastic — check out last night's mainstage slideshow for those. Thought I would toss in a couple of my BRMC B&W shots for good measure...

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Photos: Stars of Track and Field

Posted Sep. 3, 2007 at 11:01 am by Michael Alan Goldberg

Some photos I shot of the Portland, Oregon trio Stars of Track and Field at Bumbershoot on Sunday:

 

Continue reading "Photos: Stars of Track and Field"

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