WILCO at Bumbershoot

Hit-And-Run...
On Some Of This Year’s Bumbershoot Bands
By DUNCAN STRAUSS

Bumbershoot--a.k.a.The Seattle Arts Festival, held each Labor Day Weekend on the 74-acre grounds of the Seattle Center-- seemed observably, immediately different in this 32nd edition. Even a semi-experienced Bumbershooter would’ve been struck by the cost- cutting measures evident at this year’s fest, from the fewer (and, with a few exceptions, lesser) musical acts, to having to shell out a buck for the previously free schedule as one stepped through the entrance gates.

Still, it’s hard to be too critical when the organizers are clearly implementing such measures in an effort to preserve an event that’s been around for more than three decades, and now seems to be tottering on the brink of extinction, suffering from chronic financial strain.

And, really, God bless ‘em for keeping this lumbering beast alive. Even in its reduced state, Bumbershoot remains a marvelous, unusual and just plain fun four-day festival. It’s a sprawling extravaganza that offers the festival-goer a smorgasbord of splendid choices from short films, to noted authors reading their work, to an array of visual art exhibits, to attractions and activities designed to keep kids engaged and happy, to a staggering compendium of culinary delights, to an equally varied assemblage of vendors selling uniformly high-quality jewelry, clothing and other merchandise.

But me--I mainly come for the music. Like Wilco, which on the heels of its recent masterpiece Yankee Hotel Foxtrot--and I Am Trying To Break Your Heart, the documentary that captured the epic struggle of making and releasing that disc--I was quite eager to see, even though the band had previously struck me as a dull live act. Not this time. Maybe it was the added energy and confidence that infused singer-songwriter Jeff Tweedy and his mates in the wake of
Foxtrot’‘s multi-tiered triumph. Maybe they just play differently--with added vigor--since Jay Bennett left the band. Whatever, Wilco was enchanting and, at times, downright riveting.

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The Minus 5 with guest John Wesley Harding "...Very much in the spirit of a [Young Fresh] Fellows show, it was loose, spirited and terrific-- "virtuoso garage-rock" ain’t necessarily an oxymoron--and laced with humor...

If the strength and quality of Wilco’s set was a pleasant surprise, it was also preceded by a huge added bonus: the opening set by The Minus 5, the Seattle-based group led by Scott McCaughey when he’s not otherwise fronting his longtime band The Young Fresh Fellows or serving as R.E.M.’s super sideman. While the Minus 5 membership over the years has been rather fluid, this year’s model included The Posies’ Ken Stringfellow and R.E.M’s Peter Buck--plus, for a few tunes, yet another transplanted Seattle stalwart, John Wesley Harding. Very much in the spirit of a Fellows show, it was loose, spirited and terrific--”virtuoso garage-rock” ain’t necessarily an oxymoron--and laced with humor (McCaughey introduced some songs as featured on the forthcoming CD, Down With Wilco) and generating tremendous feel-good energy that was intensely infectious.

At times during the Minus 5’s set, there were as many as six or seven musicians onstage, and it sounded like there were that many involved at certain points during Dave Edmunds’s performance-- impressive, since he was playing solo. But, boy, did he kick up a wonderful racket, blasting through Rockpile rockers, solo hits (like Elvis Costello’s “Girls Talk”), and--in an absolute revelation to our squad of longtime Edmunds fans, and probably others in the audience--a passel of astonishing finger-pickin’ instrumentals, from “Here Comes The Sun” to “Classical Gas” to “Sukiyaka”(!) to a Mozart piece (!!!) All these years later, Edmunds looked great, sang great, played great--was better than ever.

The flip side--as they used to say when the 45 was king--of this transcendent outing with a veteran rocker was the man Edmunds was sharing the bill with: Dave Davies. Hey, in my book anyone that pivotal to the sound and impact of The Kinks deserves tremendous respect and the benefit of any doubt. Which is precisely why I stayed for 20 minutes of Davies’ set when I wanted to bail after five. He & his band projected the worst traits of arena rock, while performing tuneless & downright awful rawk, and doing so at excruciating volume--the whole enterprise was drenched with the stench of desperation. Sad, really.

Photo: Steven Crozier

Antibalas   "...Antibalas has a great deal of potential and room to grow. This is a band that’s already terrific to see, but truly one to watch."

An impressive antidote to feeling sad, no matter the source, was the big set by the big band Antibalas. That’s how I first knew ‘em, but I guess, technically, their name is Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra. Similarly, when I first heard ‘em (or, actually, played ‘em-- on a KDVS radio show) back in June, I didn’t have have the whole scoop about this band. Listening to Antibalas’ rich, jazzy Afrobeat, I figured this outfit was a direct offshoot of Fela Kuti’s ensemble, not unlike Tony Allen’s Psycho On Da Bus. Among the things I learned at Bumbershoot: Antibalas ain’t from Africa--they’re from Brooklyn! Still the Orchestra has 14 members, a true Rainbow coalition, and they turned in a hot, percolating set that would’ve done Fela proud. Antibalas is young, and will benefit greatly from some seasoning. The collective might also be too democratic: perhaps there’s someone in charge behind the scenes, but on stage they’re a touch amorphous, still finding their way--but seem more anchored and effective when the band is fronted by singer-percussionist Duke Amayo, versus the more frequent mode of Amayo hunched over his percussion post mid-stage and all the musicians engaged in inspired and sympathetic playing, yet a bit rudderless (to extend--or mix?--my maritime metaphors) sans frontman. Antibalas has a great deal of potential and room to grow. This is a band that’s already terrific to see, but truly one to watch.

The Northwest Court Stage typically presents a nifty grab bag of artists performing solo-acoustic, which in recent years has meant everything from a rare appearance by reclusive legend Roy Harper to an enchanting excursion by Austin singer-songwriter savant Daniel Johnston. This year was no exception, starting with ex- Throwing Muses leader Kristin Hersh. Always something of a possessed presence onstage, she was nothing less than captivating as she cobbled together a characteristically intense set culled from her solo stuff and the Muses catalog, from the past--and the future. Turns out there is a brand new, as yet-untitled Throwing Muses disc on the way, and selections from it sounded delightfully dark and propulsive and trenchant. Same goes for the whole set.

John Dee Graham "...Equally adept at turning out tender ballads and more vigorous numbers, Graham presented a honed and potent point of view..."

Photo: Steven Crozier

Also at The Northwest Court, and extending the tradition, or at least our tradition, of making a cool discovery at Bumbershoot: Jon Dee Graham. All we knew beforehand was that he was a singer- songwriter from Austin, but, to me, that was sufficient to take a shot. And I’m damn glad we did. Graham, who once played with the True Believers and did sideman stints in Kelly Willis’ and John Doe’s bands, noteworthy both for the company he keeps and that he’s logged a gazillion shows--he’s comfortable (and witty) on stage, and this guy can play. And sing. And write. Equally adept at turning out tender ballads and more vigorous numbers, Graham presented a honed and potent point of view, even as the POV shifted from, say, incurable romantic to world-weary observer and well beyond. He’s got a rich, husky voice that sometimes dips to a guttural growl--it’s a testament to his singing and songwriting that when he played “Down In The Hole,” you’d be excused for thinking it was another feisty Graham original, not a Tom Waits cover. At another point, he delivered a similarly stellar rendition of the Mexican love song “Volver” in nearly-perfecto Spanish. Graham definitely has the goods--all of them. We ended up buying him a Pepsi after his set, and he also seems like a very nice man. But even if he seemed like a dick, I’d still probably go out of my way to urge you to buy Graham’s latest CD, Hooray For The Moon, and to catch him live. Hell, why shouldn’t he be your next exciting discovery?

Sonic Youth is a little long in the tooth for any music fan of any vintage to discover, yet 20-odd years later, they played with such well-oiled spunk (Bumbershoot was the last show of a summer-long tour), and with a new line-up--all the original members are still aboard, they just decided to add multi-instrumentalist and studio hotshot Jim O’Rourke--that it practically felt like an exciting new discovery. Emphasizing material from the excellent, recent Murray Street and mixing in selections from Daydream Nation and others, it was a bracing blast, though characterized my minimal noise this time around. Just a bunch of swell songs, no matter who was handling lead vocals. A total treat.

Other Bumbershoot acts it was a treat to see included the melodic hip-hop of Oldominion, the still-swinging & still-sly Dan Hicks & The Hot Licks, the always-reliable funk-meister Maceo Parker (joined for the encore by Ani DeFranco), the peppy folk- punk dispensed by the 25-year-old incarnation of The Mekons, among others--not counting others we failed to see, either because the show was sold out, or scheduled opposite a slightly more enticing show. But, with any luck, there’s always next year.

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Minus 5	Wilco	Wilco

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