Friday, September 07, 2007

MusicFest NW Thursday

Tonight started this year's MFNW. Thursday is the light day for shows, so there were really only five venues to choose from. Based on the published schedule, I had a nice, comparatively low-key night planned with four great bands. I headed out to the Crystal Ballroom at about ten minutes past nine, and wasn't all that surprised to find out that they were just letting the last few people in. After all, Viva Voce opening for Spoon should sell out the Crystal. Based on the schedule I had, Viva Voce should be about ten minutes into their set...uh...except for the horn section. And the straightforward, eight-bar or twelve-bar standard R&B riffs. And that voice. What's with this opening-band-at-the-state-fair sound? As I was standing in line at the bar, trying to figure it out, I saw set times posted. I looked at the set times. I looked at the schedule I'd stashed in my back pocket. I looked again. And again. The...uh...oh, hell, it was such a generic name I've forgotten it...Joe Brown Experience? Something like that. That's what was on the posted set time list. That's what I was listening to. (Apparently schedules published later than the one I had matched the schedule on the set lists...but wait, it turns out this error benefited me a bit in the end.) It sucked so bad. Even a good band in this genre would have been a mild improvement, a band where the horn section sounded like they'd met each other before, and had some idea they were on the same stage. Every moment it sounded like they were about to launch into Mustang Sally. Like watching The Commitments without the hard-luck stories or the accents. I was seriously discouraged. I was ready to go home. But I started down the stairs, detoured through Lola's room, and went back up to the balcony and bought a beer. The way the schedule was set up now, Spoon overlapped with Aqueduct at the Doug Fir, rather than there being a nice hour cushion in between. But if I didn't stick around to see Viva Voce, then I didn't have anything to do until midnight, and I've gotten old enough that trying to start something at midnight (this blog excepted, of course) is rather unlikely to happen. So I stayed. Things didn't improve until the band stopped. Yay!

Next up, finally, Viva Voce. I was excited to see them, but also worried...this is the biggest venue by at least a factor of five. Would this capacity crowd, and people getting turned away, happen all over town, making my $40 wristband essentially worthless? I sat through the first few songs of the set mostly worried and ruminating. But they had this fuzz-guitar, pretty-vocals, pounding drums combo that is most likely to drag me out of my funk, and I got really into it. They played a couple songs I know, which also helped. They covered some early-'80's solo-girl-rawk song (probably not Pat Benetar, but that was my best guess), and it was awesome. This was the third time I'd seen them, and each time was different. The first time was balls-to-the-wall rock, and it was great (except that there's a bass there that isn't there...Anita plays guitar, Kevin plays drums...no one plays bass). The second time was mid-day outdoor playful acoustic-rock. And the this time started out all marvelous down-tempo fuzz-rock, and got better from there. Except that they didn't finish with their cover of Alan Parsons Project's Eye In The Sky.

Over to the Doug Fir. Walking up to the ID-taking door guy, and there are a few people milling around. I clearly haven't arrived too late to a full venue--whew!--but there's a short line. I look up toward the ID guy, and there's a familiar t-shirt between me and him. Huh...that's unusual. Someone else has that shirt that...oh...yeah, that was a pretty one-of-a-kind buy...so that means... This happens in a few milliseconds, and my stomach plummets to my feet. I have to walk around my ex-boyfriend, my rather recent ex-boyfriend, the one I've been arguing with recently, just to get to the ID guy. After a minute or two of awkwardness and chit-chat-while-staring-at-my-feet, I turn around with relief, hand over my ID, and get a wrist stamp. I knew he'd be there, but I didn't think he'd be guarding the damn door. May the record reflect that the spot at the end of the bar isn't adequately hidden, and if you try to hide there, the person you're hiding from will sit in the little seating well right next to it. I recommend talking to the guy next to you. It will help.

I was there way too early. After worrying that it would be packed, it turns out there was almost no one there. The band that started up, The New Trust, was described in the fest guide as "Dark Rock." Uh...that'll do, I guess. They had a few moments, mostly hidden, of indie-pop brilliance before the rawk guitars and metal drums crashed back in. But those moments were few and far between, and got less and less prominent as the set went on. Twice, I was jarred out of my reading of the Mercury and/or conversation with the guy next to me when the song broke into a melodic La La La La La. But I was relieved when they ended. They sounded like one of those nu-rock-slash-emo-punk bands that I won't listen to long enough to have enough knowledge to compare this band to.

After suffering through that, and wondering what would become of my night, Aqueduct took the stage. The place is starting to look packed, and despite the dismal previous band, it might have been worth it to show up early. Finally, something that works out to be worth it! So, how is it that a band that cute and sappy (even though they still seriously rock out on stage), a band that I last saw with the ex, a band that writes almost exclusively love songs and lost-love songs, could make me feel so good right now? Even the ex glaring at me from across the bar when he went for a beer couldn't dampen it. Oh, thank god. If that's all I got out of the $40 for the wristband, it would be way too expensive, but I'd consider that I might have gotten enough out of it to justify the expense.

The Shaky Hands followed. This is a band that constantly pulls me both ways. They play such bouncy, folky punk songs, with the punk all Modest-Mouse-influenced, but the punk is so diluted, and the folk makes you think of hippies, and then there are bongos...and you worry you're at a hippie show. But then every song is so tight, and the tight pop puts me in mind of The Talking Heads. Whew...I've fixed it. It's not hippie music. And then I start to wonder again...but the guitar becomes increasingly strident, and suddenly he's channeling Lou Reed in the Velvet Underground days, and all is right with the world...until that other riff starts. So pretty, so poppy...so hippie. But never once did this band, whose debut disc I really enjoy despite the potential hippie-ness, devolve into an extended jam, or some sort of Devendra Banhardt freak-out (despite the shaky, more-than-vibratoed buzz of the lead singer). They were just pop songs, even if the lead singer was barefoot. Aware of the multiple impressions, he joked that he wasn't a hippie despite the dirtiness, need for a haircut (obviously he hadn't seen Aqueduct), and bare feet. "I'm a new-wave hippie. I enjoy mashups of the Grateful Dead and Devo." Probably close to the truth.

And then I was worn out and went home. Tonight was a light night, and I only saw 3 of 4 bands. How will I manage the heavy schedules of Friday and Saturday? Will I manage six shows between 8 pm and 2 am each night? Stay tuned for As The Festival Turns....