In Memoriam

On our way out we stopped at the Wild Horses Monument, which overlooks I-90 near Ellensburg. The path was rather steep up to the steel horses, and on the way down I probably slid more than walked.

Saturday

I'm excited if and when I get to hear Fleet Foxes in a confined space. As with several other acts, they were dwarfed by the space, and the chatty, hyped-up guys behind us made it difficult to get in the right mood.

Dengue Fever and Beirut were both pleasant surprises, though I liked Beirut a lot more. For some reason they've always seemed a bit too self-consciously outre to me, but they sounded awesome. I've probably been subjected to one or both of the albums somewhere, a coffeeshop perhaps, because most of the songs sounded familiar even though I've never actively pursued them.

Joshua Morrison was a nice break from standing and listening.

Vince Mira's performance has already been noted by Douglas Wolk in his write-up for Pitchfork, and probably many other places, but it really may have been the highlight of the festival to watch everyone (with probably pretty low expectations) absolutely swarm the stage before the end of his first song. Musically it was pretty much what you'd expect from Johnny Cash covers, but the novelty of a powerful bass vocalist always stands out.

David Bazan is kind of the opposite of the Flaming Lips, which is really significant only because both of them made or attempted to make pointed political statements regarding Iraq. Whereas the Flaming Lips seem a bit ridiculous doing so in the midst of their technicolor circus, you can almost feel the concern and pain in Bazan's voice when he discusses US politics, empty displays of religion, or whatever other social/cultural topics he might broach.

MIA was another casualty of the vastness. Her sensory assault would probably be overwhelming in a good way in a dark room, but almost ignorable in front of the Columbia River gorge.

I'm glad to've seen Modest Mouse and not been disappointed, but I didn't really find their set all that memorable.

We checked out early during REM's set, partly because of rain, and partly due to only mediocre levels of interest on either of our parts.


Sunday

The Maldives sounded just fine and I wouldn't be displeased to see them opening sometime.

Truckasaurus brought the party, as they probably always do, but that wasn't a terribly common theme at Sasquatch. Electronics were generally scarce, as was dancing. The visuals weren't visible due to the sunlight ("We've never played this early before!") but these guys were perhaps the most enthusiastic performers of any I saw all weekend ("You guys are awesome! Look how many of you there are!").

J Tillman, Cold War Kids, The Cops and The Blakes all sounded okay, but I'm hard-pressed to recall any really exciting moments from any of their sets.

Neither of us were really in the mood for Mates of State, we discovered, so we caught most of Sera Cahoone's set, which was as strong as I'd remembered from a couple years back at the Capitol Hill Block Party, where they covered REO Speedwagon. Here they ended with "Delta Dawn," attributed to Tanya Tucker, though All Music Guide reveals that Tucker first heard Bette Midler sing it on The Tonight Show. Indeed, in addition to those two, Charlie McCoy, Loretta Lynn, Kittie Wells, Waylon Jennings, Bob Luman, The Statler Brothers, and Jody Miller all recorded it in 1972. Anyhow, it made for the best harmonies and maybe the best moment of the weekend.

The Kooks impressed with their stage presence, before Stephen Malkmus, Janet Weiss and the rest of The Jicks came on to jam the night away. At least until the sound got cut off around 10:30. We missed the Cure because, well, there's only so much that ought to be squeezed into one weekend.

Memorial Day

Yeasayer did their Talking Heads update on the main stage, which was maybe a little too much for them to handle.

Thao and The Get Down Stay Down were only on the Wookie stage, but even there they didn't sound quite big enough to really capture my attention. Kevin said he thought they didn't quite sound as good as they do on record, which I haven't heard much, so I'll take his word for it.

The Hives are another band I'm glad to have seen, even though I haven't paid them the closest attention recently. Pelle Almqvist could teach a lot of indie rockers a thing or two with his polished (and hilariously overblown) stage banter. At the same time, maybe no band takes themselves less seriously, as evidenced when, though I can't now remember why, the band froze mid-song eliciting greater and greater reactions from the crowd as they hit five, fifteen, twenty-five seconds of statuesque inactivity. There's almost no way I'd have laid down actual dollars to see these guys, so for me at least they were a really good part of the lineup.

Built to Spill could probably roll out of bed, strap on their gear, and launch into a terrific set without even thinking about it. I've never been able to hear them the same way on record, but live they just never disappoint.

Rodrigo y Gabriela and Flight of the Conchords both seemed to me to be pretty major novelty acts. Acoustic guitar wizardry is interesting to look at, but if virtuoso performing doesn't enthrall me with my eyes closed, I'm really disinclined to care.

Jamie Lidell sounded better experimenting with his equipment than he did at the beginning with just the full band.

The Flaming Lips are a curiosity. Really more of a circus than a rock show, it's hard to focus on the music, although I've never been a huge fan. Still, everything you've heard is probably true, and they do create an absolutely unforgettable stage experiences.

I also caught snatches of The Mars Volta and Delta Spirit. We packed up and left at 5 this morning to get back just in time for work, managing to catch an awe-inspiring sunrise as well. There'd been some guy on our walk back the night before yelling "Sasquatch!" and trying to get people to cheer. At that point he seemed mildly annoying. The next morning, however, I reversed my thinking when we spotted him perched on one of the irrigators in the campground, yelling the same thing at the rising sun. He is obviously awesome.

I got a few pictures, but even they don't really portray the scale of the gorge. It's effectively a fourth stage, one you can watch even while you're supposedly paying attention to one of the bands. On Sunday we were obsessed with watching the rain that seemed to be approaching for miles, only to see it move on across the river.

And the tent didn't leak!