Instead of Bumpershoot...
I went to Tumbleweed with my girlfreind and her bunny this year:
And Chloe, our furry minion:
Tumbleweed is this awesome folk music festival in the tri-cities. It's free. And free of crazy people, and flame throwing buskers, and bong circles that bumpershoot afforded my youth.
Well maybe I'm getting old or something, but it was pleasantly calm. The only thing I wish is that taarka was there. I had heard that they had been at one of these tumbleweed festivals after bumbpershoot had turned them down.
I think the biggest difference between Tumbleweed and Bumpershoot was that these artists weren't trying to be the best at anything. They were just trying to poor them selves out on stage. it was the kind of honesty and performance that you get at a poetry slam. None of them were untouchable magicians, jimi hendrixesque performers for the mythical catalogue of rock fame, they were all real people. Grandparents and parents just singing about things that happen to you in life. Sometimes they weren't singing at all, and then they just played their instruments as best they could.
Some of them were incredible guitarists using loop peddles to sound like a whole band. That was pretty impressive to watch this guy assemble such an intricate song with four beat clips of him playing the guitar. He captured a full drum kit with slaps and taps of the case and extremeties of the fret board, gleaning a hollow sounding but driving beat. Then he started a simple bass line and a strumming guitar chord proggression so that he could begin soloing with the slide feeding off of his female vocal accomplice. But this guy was just a stressed out college age kind of musician. He seemed to fear that a mistake was immenent but when small spasms of the fretting hand drew the song off course he just kept trodding along.
There were no fireworks. No mosh pits. no waving of arms and lighting of lighters. Initially this sounds bad, but then you realize that everyone for 50 feet around you are in absolute awe of really quite regular human beings articulating their dreams and fears into fluid music. Afterward they were still available to chat about music, pollitics, or just what gave them the blues to begin with.
When we weren't listening to the bands, we were snacking and being harassed by children to see the bunny.
And when she got anoyed with them, and all of the canine attention she hid between us:
Eventually we just moved too much for her so Ed offered his shoulder/chest.
all in all it was a good time had by all. Maybe we'll do this next year, maybe I'll help a band perform there. who knows.
And Chloe, our furry minion:
Tumbleweed is this awesome folk music festival in the tri-cities. It's free. And free of crazy people, and flame throwing buskers, and bong circles that bumpershoot afforded my youth.
Well maybe I'm getting old or something, but it was pleasantly calm. The only thing I wish is that taarka was there. I had heard that they had been at one of these tumbleweed festivals after bumbpershoot had turned them down.
I think the biggest difference between Tumbleweed and Bumpershoot was that these artists weren't trying to be the best at anything. They were just trying to poor them selves out on stage. it was the kind of honesty and performance that you get at a poetry slam. None of them were untouchable magicians, jimi hendrixesque performers for the mythical catalogue of rock fame, they were all real people. Grandparents and parents just singing about things that happen to you in life. Sometimes they weren't singing at all, and then they just played their instruments as best they could.
Some of them were incredible guitarists using loop peddles to sound like a whole band. That was pretty impressive to watch this guy assemble such an intricate song with four beat clips of him playing the guitar. He captured a full drum kit with slaps and taps of the case and extremeties of the fret board, gleaning a hollow sounding but driving beat. Then he started a simple bass line and a strumming guitar chord proggression so that he could begin soloing with the slide feeding off of his female vocal accomplice. But this guy was just a stressed out college age kind of musician. He seemed to fear that a mistake was immenent but when small spasms of the fretting hand drew the song off course he just kept trodding along.
There were no fireworks. No mosh pits. no waving of arms and lighting of lighters. Initially this sounds bad, but then you realize that everyone for 50 feet around you are in absolute awe of really quite regular human beings articulating their dreams and fears into fluid music. Afterward they were still available to chat about music, pollitics, or just what gave them the blues to begin with.
When we weren't listening to the bands, we were snacking and being harassed by children to see the bunny.
And when she got anoyed with them, and all of the canine attention she hid between us:
Eventually we just moved too much for her so Ed offered his shoulder/chest.
all in all it was a good time had by all. Maybe we'll do this next year, maybe I'll help a band perform there. who knows.