Yetrigar!

As soon as we were on-site, we were off to Yeti stage to see Throw Me The Statue. I couldn't plan for a better introduction: there's something invigorating about new bands with a lone album under their belt. Throw Me delivered a great set of strong energetic pop music, and they pack so many melodic hooks I think the world will be hearing more from them in the future. After the set we went to check out the grounds and hook up with Glenn & Ezra before returning to Yeti to catch the last half of Joshua Morrison - someone I wanted to check out per recommendation. The music was good, I loved the cello - but some of the more sombre music is hard to absorb in the festival environment. It's definitely worth checking out some more.

Then came our first conflict: Vince Mira and the Ray Kay Trio versus The National. I think both acts topped Jen's or my 'must-see' lists, and it sounded a little too convenient when we heard some rumblings that The National had cancelled. Glenn and I figured we'd give Vince Mira a couple songs before hitting the big stage and confirming The National news, but we never made it.

I'm calling out Vince Mira as as the big highlight and hit surprise for the three day festival. No building up to a crescendo here; it's just the way it unfolded: broad daylight, three hours in, music I'm pretty familiar with and wouldn't usually listen to on my own. This kid (sixteen years old!) has a voice a thousand times bigger than his diminutive stature. He can deliver a dead-on Johnny Cash and the Trio do a remarkable job executing the familiar songs with rockabilly energy...but Mira's voice has a richness & more distinctive bass than Cash ever had. Glenn & I kept putting off taking off - I felt like I was in the presence of something truly special, and at the end of each song I was eagerly anticipating the next one and getting to hear that voice again. There's also that feeling of shared awe that, if you're lucky, you occasionally get to experience in the anonymity of the festival atmosphere: you're not the only one getting converted today. Please, go see him. You'll thank yourself for catching this guy in your own backyard: he plays the Can-Can every Tuesday.

The New Pornographers took us to the big stage for the first time. I've seen them before, I love their music and I love that Neko Case is more prominent than when I last saw them touring behind their album Electric...that said, it was a strange though energetic comedown from the previous act. They did manage to close with a memorable, ass-kicking cover of ELO's Don't Bring Me Down. M.I.A. played the big stage next; I wasn't feeling the tech-revved hip-hop (though, when do I ever) - especially from where we were sitting. Most of us took off for Okkervil River, getting news along the way that The National did indeed show up, and would play a later set at the small stage. News about how the M.I.A. set would get chaotic with a hundred people dancing onstage wouldn't reach us until next day (unless I'm one of those hundred people - and I doubt I would've been - I still don't feel like I missed out).

The end of the day was tightening up. I didn't pay much attention to Okkervil, prefering to become an annoyance about getting to The National a.s.a.p. How many suicide letters have I written with Alligator on repeat? The answer is five (only 2 extant). I'm very sentimental about this band.

Though excited about seeing them on the small stage, it wasn't much more novel than seeing them at the Showbox. It was a bit of a letdown. I wanted them to be overwhelmingly loud, to blow me away, but their output was muffled in the wind. The others headed to see the Breeders before the end of their set, but I still wasn't about to move. The next hour would find me on my own...I caught the last 15 minutes of the Modest Mouse set (catching "Spitting Venom" might be highlight number three for day one), and took a chance on an accidental hookup with the folken at the Breeders.

Exchanged texts brought us together for R.E.M. By the way? The best spot is dead center just beyond the inner circle of the main stage. A nice mix of freedom and perfect sound. Of the 6 times I've seen R.E.M. live, I'll put this at number two (because you never forget your first time). Michael Stipe was in usual form, but Jen and I agreed he looks better, more fashion savvy...and healthier...than ever. The set lived up to the new album's material - high tempo and high energy - even the onset of rain couldn't mar the set. Harbor Coat live? Sweet! The frenzy of the set was broken up by two songs: Drive (who would complain?) and a very memorable Let Me In that had all the band members circling Peter Buck at piano. Another magic turned by live shows: songs that make me go 'meh' will forever have a new significance. I'm also happy to report that this is the first time I've seen R.E.M. live and didn't hear the alterna-tonk of It's the End of the World...and didn't miss it one bit.


I've seen "Awesome", it seems, a dozen times. Strange to see them outdoorsy like. "SN's afro" was usurped by the able Reggie Watts, who happened to be a few yards behind us. If you haven't seen this band yet, by all means: do it. You will be charmed by Dave's interpretive dancing and Evan's dead-on John Linell (of They Might Be Giants). Unlike previous shows, I didn't get to press palms with the band - sad, since I feel like we're skunk brothers by now.

Saturday was going to be an exhausting day. Jen & I didn't get much sleep the previous night (more on that when I wrap this up) and I was going to find any opportunity I could to nap in the grass. We caught Truckasauras next on the small stage, a band made for late night dancing playing a mid-afternoon set. They aknowledged it. The music was pretty good, despite the uphill setting...a band I'll check out locally when the next opportunity arises. We caught a bit of What Made Milwaukee Famous on the medium-sized stage before settling in at the main stage for Cold War Kids. This was high-ground sunning time.

I liked Cold War Kids. It sounded like serious music. I'm a serious guy. I can visualize walking into the record store and buying their album. NOT the best tanning music, but hey.

Tegan & Sara: 2 songs and I was set. I can only take so much much sun. Jen and I had gone street-level for the set, and I was increasingly distracted by how much UV was hitting the left side of my face. If only I could rotate the entire gorge 90 degrees counter-clockwise. I found a grassy depression between the big and the medium stages where I could catch up on my text messages and just lay and not do anything for a little while. We were eventaully rejoined with Glen for The Presidents of the United States of America - for a couple of songs, anyhow. From there it was off to Mates of State. I enjoyed their set at the middle stage, though the smell of human feces began to hang all about. Jen got to hear her favorite song, though we didn't stay for the entire set. Or did we. It's possible we did. Saturday was definitely the most muddle-headed of the three days.

Glenn led us to Michael Franti & Spearhead - ok, he led us to a beer garden close to it. I like to think Glenn and I bonded at this moment. I got a kick when he talked about looking forward to seeing Michael Franti & Spearhead, and Jen told him who we were listening to. Sigh. Reggae-inspired music and the fans who don't know they're listening to them.

For the second night in a row, I went AWOL. I was amped to see Malkmus; Jen and the others wanted to see DCFC. I've already seen the Cab at a previous Sasquatch, so I headed for the mid-stage and caught the end of The Kooks' set. It was a fun set. They have that Kinks meets punk, British invasion sound - makes you want to go home and spin the Mt. Rushmore soundtrack. This was also a rare occasion when I showed up very early for the band I wanted to see and was able to get very close by the time Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks came on.

I've been on a Pavement/Malkmus kick for about a year now. I've seen them once before - the muscle twitch that initiated the kick - and it was great to see them after being thoroughly informed. I was packed amongst a tight, weed-smoking crowd...and it was impossible avoiding the contact high. It was a great, loose set. It was my only Sasquatch moment where it came to me and watching someone play guitar, and the set ended with wishing I was home so I could strap on my own.

The Cure: we met up again. I commented on how I've never seen the Gorge packed to capacity. Jen tells me - "It's the Cure - you didn't get the memo?" Regardless. We made it through half the set and beat a retreat.

What happened to The Choir Practice? Sure, it's day three and exhaustion is setting in...but we thought we were only twenty minutes late for their set. Seems we missed the whole thing. If that wasn't awkward, we hung at the small stage to catch Whalebones as well. They are touring to support an E.P. Is that why they only played 3 songs? (though we both appreciated when they asked if anyone present was staying at Ghetty's Cove. They're going to get points for that).

O.K. The Hives. We set up shop at the Main Stage, and this band was fucking incredible. Infectious energy, and a lead singer that knows how to play the crowd. Master of ceremonies indeed. Makes me want to rescind anything I've said since 2003 about bands that dare to keep the "The" in their title.

Everyone has seen Built To Spill, right? Well, I hadn't. I can't let go how I quit my job in 2002, and how constant listening to Perfect From Now On weighed heavily in my decision. I saw them for about ten minutes at Bumbershoot that year, and it was horrible! Michelle and I had snuck into Key Arena and the sound bouncing about the place was forbidding. Even when they lit into Freebird.

Cool of Jen to endure some alterna-guitar rock with me. It was an okay show. I wanted more volume, more vocal. This finished the triumverate of my must-sees, and I walked away with some mixed feelings. I was happy they didn't do a bunch of covers, which they are prone to do. I was especially happy they served up Traces from their last album and Distopian Dream Girl from their archives. It might be a simple case of only getting to see them when the window of worship has passed.

After BTS, I took another nap. Jen stayed at the Main Stage for Rodrigo Y Gabriela, followed by the Flight of the Conchords. I was able to catch half of the former, all of the latter. Both were impressive sets. Now, I don't want to give the impression that I was narcoleptic through the last few days. I think I can only stand in a spot for so much time! While I was away (the same grassy knoll), I was meditating. So much different. On this particular occasion, I was meditating on a young couple who scurried behind a cargo container that held thousands of bottled water goods. They disappeared for a moment, between the container and the fenced off winery...then reappeared to grab a recycling bin and drag it out of site behind the container. Well, someone is getting laid, or a blowjob, or whatever. I was then interrupted by a drunk who could not handle the angular degree of the slope on which I rest.

Jen & I met up after the Conchords to see Jamie Lidell. Finally, I dance. Everyone danced. He did his motown, Stevie Wonder thing, he did his beatbox thing, he did his DJ thing. Considering how behind on time things were running at this point, no one expected an encore. He did one anyways. Another high recommendation, go get his album or go get him live.

Finally: The Flaming Lips. My feet hurt.

No, really: The Flaming Lips. The "U.F.O. Show". The headliners of all headliners. And wasn't this the first show Jen and I caught back in September? It was. It was remarkably the same show, but with more nudity and more flying saucers. There is no such thing as being underwhelmed by the Lips. I'll leave it at that.

And my greatful thanks to Jen for driving as far as Ellensburg. Even though I really never nap.