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>"/>
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.