Don Project

There are one hundred or so lucky people in this city wandering around right now smiling. They are thinking back to their Saturday night and recalling things like s'mores, hot dogs, PBR, a bonfire, music, and a fantastic show. These smiling people were part of the first annual Jansport Bonfire Session.

The line began on the south side of Pike between 10th and 11th early in the morning. I spoke with the group that was first in line and they told me they had been waiting since 9:15 a.m. for their chance to get on a bus and ride to a secret location to enjoy more free stuff than you can shake a sharpened marshmallow roasting stick at. When they arrived, they told me that it was completely worth it.

The buses pulled in to Bear Creek Studio out in Woodinville at about 7:00 p.m. and offloaded the lucky hundred into the woods behind the studio. Bear Creek is a special place for me, since it's where my band put down our only studio recording. More generally, you might recognize former visitors like Soundgarden, Built to Spill, Lionel Richie, Foo Fighters, Harvey Danger and a ridiculous list of amazing bands who all recorded there. Visiting the studio before the crowd got there was an awesome treat.

It wouldn't be the only treat of the evening, as Jansport provided a wide array of food and drink for the lucky showgoers. I had a wonderful falafel sandwich from Hallava Falafel and cooked myself a S'more for dessert. Others washed down free hot dogs with free PBR and followed it up with watermelon slices. The crowd wandered between the two bonfires eating, drinking, and playing beanbag horseshoes to DJ Case0ne performing impeccable mashups of '80s and '90s hits. My guide for the evening remarked that each song was "exactly what I want to hear at that moment."

Through some hidden signal the mass of people around the bonfire near the food started to drift up to the bonfire near the stage. In other words, just like any good party, it began in the kitchen. A cool early fall evening had started to set in and the anticipation was building like the ashes drifting down from the fires. The owner of Bear Creek set some more logs on the fire, a group of enthusiastic folks attempted to form a human pyramid, and all of the sudden local indie/folk group The Cave Singers were on stage and ready.

As the audience moved closer to the band, soft brushes on a snare drum started what would prove to be a magical night of music. For example, I have never been to a show that smelled so good. With wood smoke and damp grass perfume mixing in the less polluted air, the crowd clapped along and cheered for harmonicas while the band played.

A few songs into the set, after battling a wicked ground loop buzz, Pete Quirk, the singer, quipped, "I can assuredly say that I will remember this forever." The sound out in the woods was perfect (after the buzz was solved) and the songs fit the feeling of the evening so genuinely that it felt like the night had been created just for the hundred of us lucky enough to be first in line. The Cave Singers craft deceptively simple songs and Quirk's bluegrass-tinged vocals call out for the forest and a fire. They pull at some deep, shared memory and make us overjoyed that we are all alive.

After their set, the crowd moved to the big bonfire and danced around to more DJ work while the band rested for the second set of the evening. An impromptu conga line circled the fire and people roasted a few more marshmallows until the band joined the audience near the fire.

Without the amplification of electric instruments and without the light of LED's or incandescents, they played a couple songs for us. The crowd was as quiet as the trees while the band crafted magic in those moments. It's impossible to describe without sounding more melodramatic than I already have, but that fireside set might be the highlight of my 2010. Sitting there with a stomach full of delicious falafel and s'mores, next to a warm fire, listening to heartfelt and honest music as someone blew bubbles that carried into the night, I felt more content than I have in a long time. As I'm still wandering around and smiling, I can assuredly say that I will remember that forever.

Last weekend I went to two birthday parties. Both sets of party-goers eventually found a ring of stones, filled it with wood, and set the wood on fire. A party is just not complete unless something is on fire, I guess.

Jansport, the backpack folks, are sponsoring a show this Saturday, August 28th, that will undoubtedly be quite a party, since they are planning a fire and free stuff is involved. This party will feature local indie/hillbilly sensation The Cave Singers and the 100 people that can correctly find the secret location where the bus will pick them up. Tickets are free, treats are free, and beer is free. I assume this leaves out the underage crowd.

Hints are located on The Bonfire Sessions Blog and don't appear to be too hard to figure out, so get there early. (Supposedly, the location of the bus stop will be revealed tomorrow, via the blog, as well as Jansport's Facebook and Twitter.) Then we'll all head out on a bus to a secret location, sit by a fire, sing some songs and enjoy the last days of summer. Hopefully there will be marshmallows.

While everyone was out Friday night gushing over the Carissa's Wierd reunion, a small crowd at the Mars Bar was treated to an entirely different philosophy of music. Instead of low whispers and layers of sound, Treasure State brings clear, sparse songs to the musical world. And in doing so, they provide a counter-argument to the current trend of "more is better."

Surprisingly, Treasure State has been around for about ten years. They have two records out, one of which is available from Woodson Lateral, a great local label. A traditional three piece, Mercer, Leffler, and Rathman perform anything but traditional music. You might recognize the last name of the guitarist, Mercer, as the last name of the singer of The Shins since the two are, in fact, brothers. Robert, of Treasure State, has a similar vocal register as James but sings less poppy melodies and is a little rougher around the edges. Treasure State songs often slowly build in intensity and encompass a wide range of emotions. The songs are much like the state the band is named after--Montana, that is--with wide expanses of open space punctuated by soaring melodies and clear tones. Live, the trio stretch these open spaces even further and prolong the tension, making the melodies that much more rewarding.

Treasure State sound remarkably like no other Seattle band I can think of. To find a sound similar to Treasure State, I believe you'd have to head back to late '90s Illinois and listen to an American Football record. They share that same penchant for arpeggiated melodies, the slightly wandering vocal lines, the technical rhythms and nontraditional song structures. Yet, even American Football fills more space than Treasure State.

The most remarkable feature of their set on Friday was the floor of the stage. As hard as I looked, I did not see a guitar effects pedal anywhere. Even the set list was almost comically small.  Treasure State keep it simple and their stripped-down approach to music is, I hope, inspirational to those that think music requires recruiting heavily from your local orchestra. There's something about the space between an open hi-hat and a snare, between a low bass line and a plainly sung lyric, between the quietest strum of a high guitar string and the crash of the whole band in unison that will forever be more powerful than as many musicians as you can cram in a room.

It's my hope that Treasure State will get in the habit of playing more than once per year and perhaps even promoting their show. We could use a reminder that there is beauty in the simple things.

I know, I know, you're too cool to dance. I am, too, buddy. I might even be the King of Not Cutting Loose. But every once in a while we should throw down our crowns for a bit and gather together for a bit of enjoyment.

Last week, I was on Spring Break. I spent most of it hiding from the intermittent rain and playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. By the end of the week, I had probably gained about fifty pounds and heard entirely too many preteen voices berate me for my lackluster gaming skills using creative homophobic and racist terms. I needed to get out of the house and hang out with some adults.  The venerable Sunset Tavern provided me with just that opportunity on Friday night.

Velella Velella bring local indie flavor to the dance party. Let's face it, Seattleites are awesome at playing instruments. So great, in fact, that we get bored of playing one and instead learn to play several. The five multi-instrumentalists of Velella Velella play a clavinet, flute, bass, guitar, Wurlitzer electric piano, a keyboard or two, a drum machine track, synthesizers, tambourines, cymbals, and other various percussion while one or more of them belts out some party tunes. The various instrumentations and contrasting male and female vocals make the band sound slightly different on every song, just like listening to DJ set allows you to experience different tracks.

In general, their sound is reminiscent of funk and soul, but they have brought those classic tones to a modern electronic era. It's something that everyone can get into, but not so familiar that it becomes stale. It's an exciting recycling and remixing of the best dance eras that gets people smiling and having fun.

Velella Velella brought so much fun to the Sunset last Friday that even the venue itself seemed to be sweating though the air temperature outside was still chilly.  Inside, it was Spring Break while the outside remained Normal Day Job. In the end, Velella Velella succumbed to the crowd's desire for one more song and the very last word of their set--the word that should end everyone's Spring Break--was "party."

The folks in Velella Velella have been around quite some time, participating in a wide array of projects. They are split between Seattle and Portland, so play infrequently, but they did announce that they are working on a new record that they plan to release soon. If you need a little something to shake up your next cool guy party, pick up that record.

I think I heard somewhere that good writing usually divulges some dark, personal secrets. I can't claim to be a good writer, but here are two secrets I shouldn't tell anyone.

1. In 4th or 5th grade, my mom walked in on my friend Mike and me. We were in front of the mirrors in the living room, playing air guitar and singing. The tape playing was Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet.

2. I like Dashboard Confessional.

There, I said it. Now that these horrible secrets are out in the open, we can have an honest conversation about what happened last night at Key Arena. According to the three young girls that sat next to me, what happened was "awesome."

Dashboard Confessional opened the show to an arena about half-full. Whenever I mentioned this lineup, my friends thought the combination of bands was strange. Perhaps it was some sort of attempt by Bon Jovi to attract a younger crowd. Judging by the reaction of the audience, they weren't there to see Chris Carrabba sing about his ex-girlfriends. A couple ladies in the front were up and dancing, but in general, all I saw were people sitting and politely clapping or the red cushion of an empty seat.

I don't think Dashboard Confessional songs work very well as arena rock songs. In fact, I don't think they work as rock songs at all, and Carrabba should stick to playing them as acoustic singer/songwriter jams in small venues. His demeanor on stage appears to agree with me. Carrabba looked uncomfortable in the middle of the big arena and even said, "Thanks to Bon Jovi for inviting us out, that was very kind." Hopefully they will find some self-confidence as the tour continues.

Bon Jovi took the stage dramatically to a recording of their song "This is Our House"--a song that could easily be the theme to a hockey team entering the ice. This began their two-and-a-half-hour marathon set which included three encore songs. Here is the massive and all-encompassing set list.

This is Our House (recording)
Blood on Blood
We Weren't Born to Follow
You Give Love a Bad Name
Born to Be My Baby
Roulette
Shot Through the Heart
When We Were Beautiful
Lost Highway
Superman Tonight
We Got it Going On
It's My Life
Homebound Train
Hallelujah (cover of Leonard Cohen song)
Bed of Roses
Something for the Pain
Hey God
Work for the Working Man
Bad Medicine
Who Says You Can't Go Home?
Love's The Only Rule

encore:
Thorn in My Side
Wanted Dead or Alive
Livin' on a Prayer

Despite my distant seat and the tens of thousands of other people there, this show felt surprisingly intimate. Jon Bon Jovi appears to be a personable and genuine guy and his between song banter was not as much typical rock deity filler, but actual conversations with the 20,000 or so people in attendance.

Yet, judging again by audience reaction, people are glad they played a healthy selection of old songs. They yelled the loudest for songs off Slippery When Wet. Bon Jovi acknowledged this himself, wryly: "Believe it or not, there were records before Slippery When Wet." They did play at least one song from most of their albums (except 7800° Fahrenheit and Bounce, their two least successful albums), but it was clear by the number of girls screaming that the crowd favorite was their best selling album.

Through the anthemic rock endings, costume changes, and thousands of watts of lights and projections, Bon Jovi followed the arena rock pattern of shock and awe. They played old favorites and introduced new material. In short, they did exactly what was expected of them. I would have appreciated some pyrotechnics, but those seem to be out of fashion in big rock shows these days. Despite the lack of explosions, I talked with a few people after the show and they all seemed to have enjoyed their experience. A couple were wondering about Bon Jovi's ability to hit the high notes in "Livin' on a Prayer" after a couple hours of rocking, but in general, I heard no negative reviews.

So, if you enjoy massive rock shows, I think Bon Jovi is a safe bet. Much safer than playing air guitar and singing in your living room. Sorry Mom.

Bon Jovi and Dashboard Confessional play their second show at Key Arena tonight, and it looks like seats are still available. Tickets range from $33 for an upper level seat to $500 for a VIP experience. The show starts at 7:30 p.m.

Do not be afraid to admit it--I know you're as excited as I am for this.

Eighties rock legends Bon Jovi are resurfacing once again with their recently-released album The Circle, and the North American tour kicks off here in Seattle tonight. Even if you didn't grow up in the '80s, surely you know that Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora were inducted to the Songwriters Hall of Fame last year and The Circle has spent some time at #1 on the Billboard charts. This alone should be enough motivation to get you down to Key Arena to see what rock from the '80s is really all about.

For the kids who were born after Bon Jovi's second round of popularity (the "It's My Life" era), Dashboard Confessional will be opening both shows. Chris Carrabba and crew also have a new album (Alter the Ending, released on the same day as The Circle), and I daresay that it might get some of the older folks in the crowd to become fans.

The tour will be in town for two nights and it looks like lower level seats may still be available for both nights. Tickets are available from Ticketmaster and range from $33 for an upper level seat to $500 for a VIP experience. Shows start at 7:30 p.m.

If you can't make it to the show, you can also watch the first couple songs live via webcast on Ustream at 8:30 p.m. Look for the hand permanently formed into a "rock on" sign--that will be me.

"It's pretty brave to have a festival in February. I like it." - Lisa Molinaro of Talkdemonic

While "pretty brave," the Cumulus Music Festival is also pretty genius. February in Seattle is the perfect atmosphere for an experimental music festival centered around expansive instrumental rock bands. Twelve such bands from Portland, Seattle, and Davis, California played over the last three days at Mars Bar and The Funhouse. Crowds were relatively small but enthusiastic, increasing as the festival went on.

I took a moment between sets at The Funhouse to discuss with founders Mark Schlipper and Levi Fuller how the festival was going. They were very pleased with how the bands sounded and how everyone was enjoying themselves. There was a question as to whether the festival would happen this year or not, as third founder Kenny Day was in Alabama, so they were feeling like it all came together very well, especially given short notice.

This was my second year at the Cumulus Festival and I enjoyed the lineups this year just as much as last. This year seemed more organized into different themes each day where last year had a little slice of everything each night. However, this year was still widely varied and quite good.

On Thursday, it was tough to pick a favorite. I missed Paintings for Animals' experimental electronica, unfortunately. The Luna Moth was magnificently unrelenting with their crescendos and repetitious songs. Joy Wants Eternity was epic, melodic, had a beautiful mkII Rhodes sound augmenting the guitar, and was the crowd favorite. Yet, something about Scriptures (formerly This is a Process of a Still Life) made them stand out for me.

Scriptures were a little faster and a little more country than the others that night. Pedal steel, alternative percussion, and a keyboard augmented the standard guitars and drums. They seemed to craft songs about wide spaces in middle America. Formerly from Missoula, they obviously have experience with these landscapes. With deeply layered melodies and interspersed marginally chaotic parts, they create the perfect soundtrack for driving across Montana. I, for one, am glad they made that drive and relocated to our fair city.

Friday night was great. Hosting the festival was seminal Seattle punk venue, The Funhouse. Seeing melodic instrumental bands at a venue that I've seen many punk bands at was a playful change. Schlipper and Fuller mentioned that they'd scheduled all the loudest bands for Friday where possible. It suited the Funhouse well.

Though The Ever Changing Sky, Elders, and This Blinding Light were pretty fantastic, my favorite of Friday was AristeiA, from Portland. Perhaps, because I had seen all those punk shows at the Funhouse, AristeiA fit the best with my musical tastes. A little like a hardcore band finding its melodic roots, AristeiA played with emotion and power. They were exciting to watch and were clearly into what they do. Their beards were well suited to their rocking Pelican-esque tunes, just a little bit edgy but keeping them from rocking out too much lest they get too warm. It was a great set and I'm looking forward to their next visit.

Saturday night started slow back at Mars Bar. As the night progressed, more people filled in the small space and the temperature rose. We created our own little shelter from the cool February rain outside. The bands on Saturday were more experimental, playing with strange instruments (viola? sampler?) and banks of effects (no guitarist had less than eight pedals, it seemed). The largest crowd of the festival loved it all.

I enjoyed the guitar experimentation of Bill Horist, the surf-jazz-rock-smoke machine mashup of Diminished Men, and the tight musicianship of Talkdemonic, but the standout for me was Bronze Fawn. Full disclosure: I've been a fan of Bronze Fawn since pretty much the beginning--before that, even--since Vermilion led to Joules led to Bronze Fawn, I suppose. Their sound is perfectly complimented by a live video editor. I probably could have stopped that sentence just before "ly complimented" because their sound is perfect. Occasional high melodies over a fuzzed-out bass line with delay and reverb everywhere on top of the clean, yet forceful rhythm of the drums. Their songs make you think of arctic adventurers or the paths of whales. Yet not just about the things that happen, something deeper than that. Like what whales think about or what someone walking to the North Pole would really experience. A meta-adventure, if you will. Their new record is a little less on the melodic side, but just as ambitious and amazing. If you haven't picked it up or seen them live, do so now.

Cumulus Festival, you rule. Thank you for bringing us a slew of bands we've never thought to go see, thank you for expanding our concept of rock music, and thank you for being so brave. See you next year.

Seattle is the perfect place for instrumental rock music. We have talented musicians and long stretches of dreary gray skies to inspire epic songs. Luckily, the folks organizing the Cumulus Music Festival have already thought of this and set up three days of varied instrumental bands to showcase their experimental magic.

The bands playing this festival run through a wide range of (mostly) instrumental music. If you're in the mood for those gray skies mentioned earlier, the dark and haunting melodies of Diminished Men or The Ever Changing Sky might satisfy you. If you're a little angry that summer isn't all year round, the emotional stirrings of Bronze Fawn or AristeiA might suit you. Looking to stand around with your jaw hanging open for 30 minutes at some ridiculous musicianship that you can't quite comprehend? Bill Horist or Paintings for Animals have you covered.

I guarantee this festival will bring you something that you have not seen on a rock stage before. Whether it be poignant video presentations to go with the music, a strange combination of instruments or a fifteen minute crescendo, this three-night festival will be out of the ordinary.

To check out some of the bands before you attend, you can download the official preview.

• The Cumulus Music Festival begins 8 p.m. tomorrow, February 11th, at Mars Bar. It continues at the Funhouse on the 12th and finishes up back at Mars Bar on Saturday. All shows are 21+ and $8.

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Back in November, I attended a wonderful short film festival called Couch Fest. Tomorrow, they will be holding a 90-minute screening of their best films at Northwest Film Forum.

The premise of Couch Fest is pretty simple: a few brave souls open up their homes to a slew of random strangers and show a series of short films. They vote for their favorites and sit next to each other in awkward silence or sharing timid conversations. Every hour, the strangers leave and a new batch strolls in.

For socially chilly Seattle, the festival is quite a departure from the stereotypical norm. Even this native Washingtonian found himself chatting with strangers about the short animation that just blew our minds or the awesome one-minute film of a lion roaring. For some reason, sharing a couch in a stranger's house (or garage) with a bunch of other strangers makes us a little less estranged.

To get a taste of how awesome this festival is (minus the couches), stop by the Northwest Film Forum at 1515 12th Ave, this Sunday at 3 p.m. Admission is free.

An image from Chris Cab's Birthday last year @ El Corazon, care of watermelon4linz, via Flickr.

There comes a time in everyone's life where they have to set aside all of their attempts at being cool. At times, you just have to give in to the things you like without worrying about who is watching or what you look like.  Saturday night's show at El Corazon was one of those times.

There's a hierarchy of perceived musicianship that I would like to share with you now. This is, of course, completely my opinion and pretty arbitrary and general. Here it is, from most musical to least musical:

1. people that compose classical music
2. people that play classical music
3. people that play and/or compose jazz tunes
4. popular musicians who write their own songs
5. popular musicians who don't write their own songs
6. cover bands
7. Milli Vanilli  (or any other lip-sync acts)
8. karaoke singers

Saturday night, a bunch of popular musicians who write their own songs sunk two levels and became cover bands. A couple hundred people willfully enjoyed the spectacle of six bands from the past being recreated by musicians of the present. The lineup was Fake Face to Face, Fake Screeching Weasel, Fake Cock Sparrer, Fake Guns n' Roses, Fake Minor Threat, Fake Black Flag, and Fake Botch. My personal favorites were Fake Screeching Weasel and Fake Minor Threat.

Screeching Weasel is a political punk band specializing in silly songs about Nicaragua or suburbia. Their heyday was the early '90s, when they signed with Lookout! Records. On Saturday, two gentlemen from recently disbanded Kane Hodder and two of their compatriots from Smokejumper comprised Fake Screeching Weasel. They played the silly political punk songs faster than seemingly possible. The crowd responded by singing along to the classic punk rock "woah oh oh ohs" on classics like "Hey Suburbia." Though no mosh pit broke out, the audience was clearly enjoying themselves.

The highlight of the evening, in my opinion, was Fake Minor Threat. Even though I was just entering kindergarten when Minor Threat broke up, they have been an important part of my musical psyche since I discovered punk. The cover set felt a lot like 1982. Prominent hardcore musicians did a fantastic job of recreating the spirit of the founders of straightedge hardcore. It was fantastic to wave my fist in the air and sing "Out of step with the world!" with all the other old straightedge folks. There's nothing like a little circle pit to get the 30+ year old hardcore crowd going.

Honorable mention goes to the guitarist from Fake Guns n' Roses for doing an amazing job of accurately replicating Slash's lead guitar parts. Chris Cab himself mentioned on his Facebook page that it was better than any Gn'R show in the last 15 years.

Overall, the night was about forgetting to be cool and just having fun. It was a night for reliving the best times of our lives. It was a night to remember. It was everything a birthday party should be. And happily enough, I understand that this will be happening again next year.