Sweden Day Eight

With aching feet, we arose yesterday for the final day of Way Out West. We arrived around noon, just after the gates opened for the day.



I posed for a photo at the entrance, next to the VIP/Press line.



We headed for the VIP/Press area for a few minutes, and snapped some photos before too many people arrived.





After that, Twin Shadow was first on our schedule. We had some time before their set, so we watched the sound check from a nearby beer garden.





We sat with some of the other photographers waiting for pit access, and chatted for a while. One was from LA and had been living in Stockholm for the past few years. Twin Shadow was good, if a little tired from playing all night in Norway the night before. I was glad to finally see them.

Next came The Tallest Man on Earth, whom I really liked. We caught a Swedish singer over on the smallest stage, then Noah and the Whale followed. I liked them very much as well. They had cute Beatles-esque suits and played a cover of a Robyn song.





After this block of music, we grabbed two falafels for lunch.



We headed back to VIP to wait for Madeleine, and were joined by Anna and Dennis as well.





Dennis and I chatted about what we like so much about each other's countries. We both said food. I said the food here tastes like it's made of food. He said he loves our hamburgers. Different strokes. I ordered beer and wine in Swedish, and the bartender said "nice try." My Swedish is hit or miss I guess. Other bartenders have told me it's great, but maybe they just thought I was cute for trying.

Once we left the press area, it was time for Wiz Khalifa.



Though he was great, we couldn't stay long. Pulp was next, and they are the band I flew thousands of miles to see. I was determined to get as close to the front as possible, so we had to go early. I shot some photos of the eager crowd:





And I waited. Though the rest of the day flew by, time slowed down as Pulp's set approached. They started right on time, and Jarvis Cocker told many jokes during the performance. The first three songs were from later albums and were pretty calm, so I got a few decent photos.





As you can see, I was very close to the stage. Maybe five or six people back in a sea of 20,000. This is where my story turns ugly. (Mom, don't panic. I'm fine.) Once those first few songs were done, Jarvis said "we're about to play a dance song that used to be about the future, and now it's about the past." I knew it would be "Disco 2000," as did the rest of the massive crowd. As the opening notes played, a crush of people began dancing furiously, singing along and jumping on top of each other. It was chaos. Many people were clamoring to get out, and couldn't. They were trapped dozens of people deep in this madness. My heart started racing and as exited as I was to be there, a scrolling marquee began running in my head. "Breathe slow, stay calm, stay upright, survive," it said. I protected my face and my bag, and moved with the crowd until the song ended. It's been a long, long time since I was so terrified at a show. Fortunately the calm returned. Pulp ended with "Common People," as is expected, and I was ready to get out of there and go find Bobby. However, as I tried to leave, every single person began rushing toward the stage. I couldn't understand why. Sure, Kanye was up next, but that wasn't for two hours. There was no way out, it seemed, but I needed to escape. I couldn't get trapped by this mob. This is when the roller derby instincts kicked in. I exploded through the rushing masses, clawing and hip-checking to freedom. High on adrenaline, I ran past the last few people to find Bobby, who was standing at our agreed-upon meeting place. I think I had a pretty serious look of terror on my face, because he seemed a bit worried when he saw me. Still, I made it, and I got my stupid front row spot for a band that hasn't played together in 15 years. Lesson learned. Don't do that again.

We rested in the swanky press center (which Bobby discovered earlier in the day), and I guzzled water while we waited for Kanye to go on.



He closed out the festival, and we trudged back to our hotel. It was quite an adventure, let me tell you.

Sweden Day Seven

Well, yesterday was, without a doubt, the most incredible day of my whole life. Sure I'm tired and sore, but who cares? As I keep telling Bobby, when will we ever have this opportunity again? We press on. I'm proud to say we made it to every single act we wanted to yesterday, except for the two club performances. There were some minor hiccups at the beginning. They wouldn't let us in with our water bottles, so I had to go back through security and check them for the day for 40kr (about 6 bucks). Bobby got bad information about the photo pit for Ed Sharpe, but we got some pictures from a distance. They were great, but we had to head over to a different stage at the halfway point to catch Christian Kjellvander. Here I am waiting for his set to begin. I was in the front, so I got to be on the Jumbotron. Whee!



Leaving early became the theme of the day. Mr. Kjellvander and his band were enthralling, and Bobby liked them too. However, he had to leave early to line up for the Avett Brothers photo pit. The Avett Brothers were unbelievable, but we had to leave after three songs in order to rest a few minutes before Janelle Monae. Of course, she was amazing too. Once her set ended, we got our first real break. We ate some mediocre festival food (I was drawn in by the sign) and drank wine in the swanky VIP/Press area.



We found Anna and Dennis, and later, Madeleine.



After about an hour, the madness began again. Fleet Foxes were next on the schedule, and Bobby disappeared into the photo pit. I was tired, so I decided to avoid the crowd and enjoy their performance from the Jumbotron while sitting on the ground.



Bobby came to join me and review his photos:



Shortly after he arrived, two ladies from Ed Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes sat next to us. We left them alone, but a fan came and asked for one of their autographs. He had neither pen nor paper, so I tore a sheet from my notebook and handed it over. The guy seemed grateful.



Robyn followed Fleet Foxes. The thing with Robyn is that in the US, she might sell out a 500 to 700 person venue. Here in Sweden, she sells out sports arenas. Once I got into this crowd, there was no getting out. For that reason, hers is the only set I saw from start to finish. You're looking at a sea of thousands of people, all singing along to "Dancing on My Own." It was quite something.



I was pretty near the front, and as close as I felt comfortable. Any nearer to the stage and I worried I'd be crushed to death by screaming fans, so I kept a reasonable distance. Obviously Bobby's photos will be much better than this. He actually scored the best spot for Robyn, so the shots are fantastic.



Once Robyn's set ended, I made my way through the mob to find Bobby at our arranged meeting place. We went to the smallest stage to see IAMAMIWHOAMI, but were underwhelmed to say the least. Headed back to the VIP area and found Anna and Madeleine, who were waiting for Dennis so they could go see Prince. We left without them to get a good spot, and saw this:



It basically says "No cameras are allowed at Prince. Respect that." We knew already, of course, and it was kind of nice to watch a show together. If the crowd at Robyn was bad, the one for Prince was 100 times worse. We were jam-packed with nearly every festival attendee. After a few songs, we moved back quite a bit, but there was no relief to be found. I'm sorry to say we only lasted an hour at Prince, though I hear he played for several. Later, he showed up at a club at 3:00am for one of his famed after-shows. I gotta hand it to him, the guy is twice my age and has more stamina than I do. Then again, he didn't spend 12 hours covering concerts and traipsing all over a giant park. We dragged our weary bodies back to the hotel and collapsed.

Today's agenda: Twin Shadow, The Tallest Man on Earth, Jayhawks, Noah and the Whale, Wiz Khalifa, Pulp, and Kanye West. We might not make it to everything, but I can tell you I will fight my way to the front of the crowd for Pulp, and will wear out my voice singing along with the Common People.

Sweden Day Six

I'm sitting in my hotel and getting ready to go to day two of Way Out West. It's sunny and lovely outside, and we had a very nice breakfast in the lobby. Last night, we tried to get into Storan to see Destroyer. However, the queue was massive and the place isn't very big. Anna texted that she and Dennis were at Trädgår´n to see Warpaint. and The Radio Department. Since it's a much larger venue, we decided to try for that instead. After another long line, we were some of the last people to get in. The place was packed, but I found Anna near the stage. Bobby chose a photo spot, and our festival coverage began. Anna shared her wine with me, and later bought me a glass. I met some of Dennis' friends when he came back from the bar. Anna and I also split a cactus lime cider, and Bobby got some photos of us dancing between the two bands. This isn't a great photo of me due to earplugs and bad angle, but whatever:



One awesome thing about concerts in Sweden: they don't turn on the house lights and shoo people out when the band stops playing. Instead, the DJs begin and a dance party erupts among the stragglers. We've got some great crowd photos to include in last night's set. On the way home, we found another WOW poster, and I decided to show it some love.



On the schedule today: Ed Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, Christian Kjellvander, Janelle Monae, Fleet Foxes, Robyn, IAMAMIWHOAMI, Prince, Little Dragon, and Zola Jesus. Ambitious schedule with 12+ hours of live music. If there's a heaven, I'm in it.

Great week / terrible week

Wednesday night, I went with Bobby's cousin Charity to see Leonard Cohen at the Rose Garden. I knew several other people who were floating around in the venue, but didn't see any of them. Leonard Cohen played for nearly four hours. He ran onto the stage, and skipped merrily back and forth from the backstage area. He sang on his knees. He thanked us profusely for attending, and performed all of my favorite songs. At this point, I am unaccustomed to attending shows without furiously scribbling in my notebook the entire time. I got to be a civilian observer for this one, though, and sat silently captivated on the edge of my seat. For some reason, there were a pair of ox-like meatheads seated behind me. They talked loudly during several songs, and made some comment about Liberace during "Chelsea Hotel #2." I turned around to give them the stink-eye, and they finally relented. I'll not have my Leonard Cohen experience, for which I paid $50 to sit in the nosebleed section, sullied by a pair of troglodytes. Obnoxious patrons aside, it was an incredible performance that defies description. This may have been my favorite part. The video isn't from the night I attended, but it's the same delivery.



Thursday turned out terribly stressful, and I got rained on when walking back to work from the food carts, so I spent the day looking like a drowned rat. Kelly and I were supposed to hang out after work, and the torrential downpour made us decide to get out of the Pearl and go somewhere on the Eastside. We were driving down a flooded Hoyt Street when the drainage system overloaded and sent a manhole cover floating down the block. Kelly's front tire went into the exposed drain, but she drove out of it. The rear tire slipped in, though, and got the car stuck. She told me to drive while she pushed the car out of the hole, and we were able to free it. However, the front tire had blown. We abandoned the car and walked down to Low Brow to wait out the rain until her tow truck arrived.

Kelly's insurance called her away to deal with her car, and I didn't want to be the pathetic person hanging out alone in a bar. The rain had let up, and I posted something on Facebook about being stranded downtown. As I was getting on the bus to go home, I got a text from Jonathan, who lives in the neighborhood and promised me a ride home if I wanted to go hang out. Despite having paid for the bus, I climbed back off and walked over to his building. We sat at Yur's for a while until Conor finished work, then went to pick him up on our way back to my house where wine and Rock Band awaited. Bobby made me dinner, and I ended up spilling red wine on my last clean pair of pants while gesturing wildly to retell the tale of the car and the sewer. Went upstairs to change before playing some Rock Band with the gentlemen. Bobby, the sneak, caught a video of me trying (and failing) to play the drum part for the first time, but is kind enough to keep the video to himself.

Friday I wore a skirt to work out of necessity. No time to tackle my massive laundry pile all week. Was supposed to cover The Head and the Heart at Doug Fir, and was to be accompanied by Bobby, Conor, and Jonathan. However, the show was canceled at the last minute and we ended up at Ron Toms. Ron Toms was packed full of people, many of whom were attending an ugly christmas sweater party, and we decided to head over to Dots for the remainder of the evening. Dots was strangely dead for 11:00 on a Friday night, and therefore much more conducive to chatting about all manner of things: John Waters; my bad luck with Darren Aaronofsky films; and jokes about serving beers to bears in bars in Billings, Montana. A much-needed mellow end to the week. Not to mention, Sephora emailed me to tell me my Urban Decay Woodstock eyeshadow was back in stock, so that's on its way to me now.

Today, I have nothing on the schedule except Ladies Rock Camp karaoke around 9:00. It'll be nice to see those folks again. Tomorrow: breakfast and putting a dent in my stack of remaining holiday card addressees. Here's hoping for a less stressful upcoming week. Oh and I finally got to do my laundry. Clean pants for days.

My brief visit to Rock and Roll Heaven

Pictured below is the single greatest moment of my musical life. As Lorien can attest, I held it together pretty well, and we had a nice, brief conversation before I stepped aside to let her autograph other fans' objects. I waited until I was safely in the Doug Fir parking lot before I started shaking and crying and being completely incoherent. Most awesomely awesome concert experience of all time!



Oh yeah, she signed my record too, which was nice because I had been carrying it all night.



I'll post a link to my official review when it's ready. I doubt I'll be getting much sleep tonight.

Concert reviews and other quick notes

My review of last week's Corin Tucker Band performance is up on Melophobe! You can find it here! Comments welcome.

Crucifying my favorite singer didn't exactly feel good, but I couldn't be anything but honest. Hopefully this is just a brief misstep and she'll give us something better later. More shows on the horizon, including at least three in October, so keep your eye on the Melophobe homepage!

After signing up for several more shows, I said to Bobby, "this is my new roller derby." He replied, "No, it's not. This is an intellectual pursuit." He's got me there. Nonetheless, it's set to consume a good chunk of my free time, which is good because I needed a new activity.

Why do good things never wanna stay?

Bobby and I are on self-imposed lockdown this weekend after spending the last several months busy all the time. Though I don't do this very often, it's nice to have the occasional weekend of sitting in the house and recovering. Also I decided my previous blog layout was way too cluttered, so I've toned it down quite a bit. Comments welcome.

I've got a forthcoming review of last week's Corin Tucker Band show working its way through the Melophobe pipeline, and will provide a link when it gets posted. In the meantime, I'm feeling nostalgic and thought I'd share a few of my favorite Sleater-Kinney songs from a bygone era. Give them a listen.

First up, Good Things, from 1996's Call the Doctor. The quintessential breakup song, I only saw them play it live twice in the eight shows I attended. The last time they played, Corin dedicated it to Lance for carrying her amp for the last 10 years. Cute. This is a video from that performance.



Next, Modern Girl. I have such a distinct memory of the first time I heard this song. I'd just bought The Woods and was listening to it on my way home from work one day in May 2005. I was driving down River Street in Santa Cruz when this song came on. It's so emotional and sarcastic, and was exactly what I needed at that point in my life. I must have hit the repeat button 20 times. Something about Carrie describing her life as "a picture of a sunny day" resonated with me, because she meant it looked nice and all, but everything was fake. I typically prefer the tracks that feature Corin on lead vocals, but I love this song.



This one is from Dig Me Out, which is the first S-K album I ever owned. I just bought it one day because it looked interesting and I knew they were on the Kill Rock Stars label. They immediately became my favorite band. This song is my favorite track from the album, and I can't really place why. It's so catchy!



There are rumors that a reunion is coming, and I will be first in line when that happens.

Procrastinating

I'm supposed to be writing a sample review of something music-related for this music journalism blog thingy to prove I know what I'm doing, and I can't seem to find the motivation to do it. I wanted to review the latest Liz Phair album, but it is so astonishingly terrible I can't even listen to it. I'm not going to any concerts in the near future and I can't think about any other musicians I'm more qualified to write about than Liz Phair. Well, there's Corin Tucker, but her new album isn't going to be released until October. Anyhow, the new Liz Phair album features her rapping (!!!!) and generally sounding like a sad cougar. As compared to classic early 90s Liz Phair, which is flawless. The following song is from her Girlysound recordings, and I am moderately obsessed with it at the moment.



Bobby has gone off to Trek in the Park, and I politely declined to join him. Having the house to myself is supposed to motivate me to finish writing this review, but it's actually motivating me to do my laundry and watch something asinine on television while Bobby isn't home to roll his eyes at me.