Sasquatch ::: photo by Josh Lovseth
“Coming down the mountainnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!” screamed Perry Ferrell into my headphones as I finished off a pre-Sasquatch Sunday morning run in Ellensberg, Wa. In many ways Mr. Ferrell was right, the rest of the Sound on the Sound team and I were halfway done with the Sasquatch Music Festival. Even though we could see the finish line we still had a long way to go. I anticipated being lifeless from two days of partying exhausted from journalist due diligence, yet the old man still had some fight left in him. I woke up feeling sore every morning on the motel floor, but once I got that $1.57 lukewarm cup of McDonald’s coffee in my Red Bull infested stomach, the resulting chemical reaction would carry me throughout the majority of my Gorge days. Science, how does that work?
Typhoon ::: photo by Abbey Simmons
First on the agenda was Portland’s Typhoon on the Big Foot Stage. I was unfamiliar with them, but Josh, Abbey and Tyler were looking forward to their set all weekend. They scurried to the front of the stage accordingly. I sat next to the security guardrail back where the sound guy was fiddling with knobs. From where I was sitting I was having trouble hearing the bass and occasionally one of the other many elements that constitutes Typhoon. In case you’re wondering, Typhoon has two drummers, a fire dancer, a horn section, Robin Williams as “Mork,” a guy playing tambourine and a keyboard-like instrument, a cellist, two guitars, two violins and a bassist. I think I might be leaving someone out, inefficient Blackberry notes.
Typhoon Horns ::: photo by Josh Lovseth
Abbey made an astute observation before Sasquatch began. She noticed that quite a few of the festivals acts featured some type of horn. This could only mean one thing, the Sasquatch planners are stealing from the blueprint that made the earliest incarnations of The Warped Tour so successful. All they are missing is an appearance by Hatebreed and they are on the right track. I’m not going to complain though, I much prefer an appearance by a musical mob from Portland than gruntcore from the east coast.
The highlight of Typhoon’s set were the last two songs. They played a new song second to last and it was superb. They finally made efficient use of the fact that they have two drummers, and for some reason I could finally hear all the nuances of the multi-instrumentalist that I had missed in prior songs. Even though this new song isn’t on the latest Typhoon release A New Kind of House, it will probably lead to me purchasing the aforementioned release (available on Tender Loving Empire Records).
I went from the soaring crescendos of Typhoon on the Big Foot Stage to the pits of Boy George hell (The Drums) on the Sasquatch Main Stage. The 80′s were a great decade to be born in, it was a great decade to have a serious crack problem and it was a great decade to be Ronald Reagen. For the most part the 80′s were a terrible decade for music. Why people prefer to recreate this particular decade (the 60′s are a close second) out of all the others is beyond me. I was so incensed that I had to unleash the following tweet:
Can’t wait until everyone who was born in the 80s is dead (me included) that way future generations don’t have to listen to this shit.
I should have at least 10,000 followers on Twitter. People, stop it. The 80′s are done. What if I said, “Yeah, I only read newspapers from the 80′s. It was an era of enlightenment. When Germany knocks down that wall, I might consider making that a tourist destination.” Would you take me seriously? I don’t want to see light blue jean jackets. I don’t want to see hand-knit cardigans with a horse head embroidered on the back. I don’t want to see you wearing white jeans, with a white jean jacket and white Reeboks (“Hipster Ku Klux Kamouflage”). Why do you have to turn the secondhand clothes section at Ross into Abercrombie circa 1998? People pretend to say, “Oh, image is nothing. It’s all about the music.” Then those same people go and take band photos inside the ribcage of a Diplodocus skeleton while wearing hunting apparel from 1920′s South Africa. The sights of The Drums would be mostly ignored if I would’ve enjoyed the sounds.
Wheedle’s Groove ::: photo by Josh Lovseth
Trying my best to forget a decade that was extremely kind to Eddie Murphy, I went back over to the Big Foot Stage to hear the last few songs by Wheedle’s Groove. The Groove was bringing it and the kids were responding. Then I became witness to a weird dynamic and quite possibly an old wives tale. Between songs, one of the female singers from Wheedle’s Groove was talking about how “Jesus Christ Pose” was actually written by her. Did anyone else hear this? Can you corroborate? I checked on the internet (for approximately five minutes) and saw nothing that would lead me to believe her. Maybe it was a joke. When she said it I was thinking, “No way did she write those guitar parts lyrics.” Anyway, whenever I see musicians glorifying God in this day and age, I let out an amused chuckle. The laughter is not a fit of belittlement but rather a curious giggle, I want to see how uncomfortable the audience might become (I want to see you squirm). People want to have their cake and eat it to. You can talk about politics in songs (you better be liberal conservative someone that thinks for themselves) but you can’t talk about religion other “taboo” topics without people questioning your intentions or claiming prostelytization.
Read more about Phil’s final days at his first Sasquatch! (more…)