Yeah, it's a 3-day festival, and I skipped day 1. But there were too few bands to see on Friday, and none in a row. So I started today.
I wanted to see Dragging an Ox Through Water, but they played several hours before anyone else I wanted to see, so I didn't get over there for it. I did try to see my ex's performance of As You Like It in the park, but when you've got a park sandwiched between every single downtown bus going north, and every single downtown bus going south, it makes it hard to hear enough follow the play (plus the police sirens, and the guys who think the noise their motorcycles make is an adequate replacement for manhood...). Once enjoying the play is off the table, the social implications of being there around all those people who know him, and know me only through him, got to be a bit much. Which is worse, someone studiously avoiding you because all they know is that their friend dumped you and they don't know what to say, or someone making an effort to talk to you despite that all they know is that their friend dumped you, and they still don't know what to say? Rather than dealing with the worst of both of those, I bailed, and caught part of AristeiA. Pretty, ambie-indie without much for vox, some edgier moments.
I went home for a bit before coming back for Point Juncture, WA. Stunning as always, though the reverb under the bridge emphasized some elements (trumpet, vibraphone) and messed up others (vocals were flat and lost, guitars were harsh and trebly). I've seen part of a Per Se set once (PDX Pop Now! '06, actually), and they're much the same. Lovely, ultra-twee 2-girl vox, often without accompaniment beyond hand-claps, though sometimes with two guitars and drums. They're really very good. I can't handle a whole set of something that sweet. So after a while I took off down the street to the bar (called...those of you that speak any french will enjoy this...La Merde). Came back in time to see the last five minutes of Ethan Rose...who finished five minutes early. Eh...experimental, according to the festival press.
Speaking of experimental, two minutes into Starfucker's set (basically Sexton Blake has gotten prolific enough to spill into a second band), I was wondering why I had come back. By 3 minutes, they'd launched into a spectacular, perfect, loud and crashing indie-pop-rock song. By 3 1/2 minutes, "...was that it?" Super-short little gems separated by swirling noise. Two guys with drumsticks, two dancers, the rest electro. Dancers? Really? This is a band that doesn't need the visual distractions, but could benefit from seeing the guys on stage paying attention to the synth sounds. Next was The Maybe Happening. They're tighter and better every time I see them, without losing any of their trademark wildness. Guitar, drums, and lead violins, and it's fun every single time to see Nathan bouncing around, trying to dance to his tiny solo while he plays his violin like a lead guitar. Add to that image the sounds of indie-pop, Isaac Brock vocals and rhythms, rawk-god guitar, and circus music. Got it? No? Just go see 'em. They were followed by Swim Swam Swum. Power-trio setup. Unfortunately, I was poisoned by the description of this band. Sure, once you tell me that, I hear The Promise Ring, the only band ever called emo (back when it was "emocore") that I loved, and for good reason. But they also had a great Modest Mouse quality, melodically screaming vocals over guitars that veered effortlessly from jewel-toned to distortion. They were like the best of indie/college radio circa 1999, but without sounding dated (of course, this stuff still sounds amazing to me in my CD player). And so tight and put-together, I wonder where this band came from that I haven't seen them or heard of them yet.
After that, there wasn't anything that appealed to me for another 3 hours. I headed off to La Merde again, but I just got tired waiting. It's reportedly one of the last Snuggle Ups shows, andd I've missed it. Damn, I'm getting too old. But it's also the downfall of an all-ages venue that's dry, I have to head out to get a beer, and I'm unlikely to come back. I came back once, but twice is too much.
More tomorrow.
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