Sleater-Kinney -- Key Arena
It was incredibly strange to see Sleater-Kinney on a big stage in a packed sports arena and they shared with the audience how strangely they felt before they played. They threw out a bunch of big cowboy hats to the crowd and kept three for themselves in order to feel a little less lonely and detached from the crowd in a big bad sports arena. This sharing of the hats was an excellent way to remind the crowd that it's okay for a formally smaller independent band to have a major following. Once Sleater-Kinney began to play their songs, it didn't matter where they were, the crowd went wild and you felt as though you were in a small club somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. They are a rockin' girl band who deserves a bigger audience, and their show at Bumbershoot is clearly a sign of things to come.  -Danny Murphy

Ladysmith Black Mambazo -- Mainstage
I enjoyed seeing these South African singers perform on the mainstage. Their voices were very soothing and the traditional Zulu dancing that went along with their songs made the show complete. I always feel fortunate to see South African singers and dancers perform in the United States, even after the fall of apartheid. Mambazo shared their music and culture with a huge stadium audience with a lot of grace and class. Their hypnotizing voices take you away from the West and make your mind travel to Africa where you can imagine the world through their eyes. Ladysmith Black Mambazo know how to make you more aware of their culture through their music while they spread their good charisma around the audience. They put on a great show that fits well with a stadium crowd or a small crowd. They are very worth seeing and very inspiring.  -Danny Murphy

Ani DiFranco -- Mainstage
Although I don't know much about Ani DIFranco and you won't normally find me at too many folk shows, I can certainly respect her music and her performance at Bumbershoot. Any woman that literally worked her way up from playing on the streets of New York to a big stadium with thousands of people fighting to get closer to the stage deserves applause. For those of you who haven't seen Ani play you must know that she is an incredible performer live. While she may be small in stature, she is a ball of fire on the stage. She is a musician that has more integrity and drive then just about anyone. Nobody else could self-promote their way into territory that is usually reserved for major label musicians supported by a bazillion dollars and a bunch of executives. Not only has she worked her way into major shows, you can go to your local Sam Goody, Wherehouse (or Target for that matter) and pick up one of her albums. On top of that, she hasn't let this kind of success get in the way of what she wants to do; she makes music she wants to make, in the way she wants to make it. Now how punk rock is that? She is a woman who built her own castle, and even if you are not into her music, she commands your respect. I know she has mine.

Botch -- Bumberclub
The Bumberclub seemed to be the venue of choice today, and things started off with the hardcore wha-thunk of Tacoma's Botch. No stage lights, no frills, just an intensity that buzzed well before the amps were fired up. Unleashing their sonic assault on a welcoming audience, Botch were so wrapped up in their own intensity that, at points, the sound of the guitarist slamming his foot against the stage floor could be heard over the band's unrelentingly loud sound; monitors jumped and bounced and it seemed as if he were intent on breaking a hole through the floorboards.  -Craig Young

Juno -- Bumberclub
Back at the Bumberclub, Juno were taking the stage to give the best performance of the day--probably the weekend, for that matter. Back in the ring after a several month hiatus and with Death Cab for Cutie's Nick Harmer filling in on bass duties (bassist Travis Saunders left the band recently), Juno took home the gold with a set that was, hands down, one of the best performances I've seen anyone give...ever. It began with frontman Arlie Carstens commenting at length on the recent veto of the AADO (All-Ages Dance Ordinance) by Seattle Mayor Paul Schell. The ordinance was a carefully crafted and long thought-out response to the current Teen Dance Ordinance (one of the more draconian laws dealing with the mixing of youths and adults at Seattle dances and rock shows I've read about, if you can believe that) and was passed in favor by a city council vote of 7-1. The eighteen months of hard work by all sides of the issue were thrown out the window when Schell, ignoring the overwhelming voice of the people, vetoed the ordinance. Carstens was rightfully angry with Schell and went on at length to explain to the audience what had happened and what they can do, performing an excellent job of passionately informing rather than angrily complaining. He summed up his speech by pointing out that the show was being broadcast over the Internet and enticing the audience to yell, "Fuck you, Paul Schell!"

Nicely done...and this was before Juno had even played a note. With their music lying in a beauty somewhere between the lyrical despair of Cross My Heart and the musical intensity of Fugazi, Juno measured up to the introductory speech with an impassioned set of emo-inflected bliss, culling songs from last year's simply sublime full-length debut, This is the Way It Goes and Goes and Goes, and intersplicing them with several new tracks. The set closed with a powerful version of "January Arms" which found Arlie slumping to his knees on the stage floor at its close, sweat pouring down his face, eyes squeezed shut in intense self-examination, guitar clutched tightly on his lap. Even after the house lights came up he still sat there, slowly pulling himself together, slowly, carefully climbing out of wherever he had taken himself during the course of Juno's set. Amazing...  -Craig Young

Motörhead -- Mainstage
Once again back into the unforgiving mob of people crowding every available slice of open space and back over to the Mainstage for Lemmy and Co., warts and all. Funny thing is, it really wasn't necessary to be at the venue to hear Motörhead. You could hear their set from anywhere inside the Seattle Center. In fact, you could hear their set from anywhere inside Seattle! Motörhead were so fiercely loud that I had to abandon the Mainstage for more distant climes on the venue grounds. And even from there I could hear Lemmy complaining: "You'd think with all the bass gear up here I could hear myself play!" and "Pisses me off that you can't drink in a tittie bar [in Seattle]!" I swear that man does indeed have amplifiers that go up to "11" if not well past. They covered the Sex Pistols' "God Save the Queen" and before the blood started clotting in my ears (thus providing some form of ear protection) I caught bits of the classic "Ace of Spades."  -Craig Young

Death Cab for Cutie -- Bumberclub
The line for these local wonderkids stretched halfway around the Bumberclub and the heat inside reminded of the stagnant, fetid air of New York's subways, which I'd recently left. In the beer garden at the very back of the Bumberclub, Death Cab for Cutie's music wafted and bounced off the concrete walls, sounding like AM radio being mercilessly suffocated with a pillow. Or maybe that's how they really sound...  -Craig Young

Quasi -- Bumberclub
Retracing my steps back to the Bumberclub for the umpteenth time I notice the grooves I'm wearing into the concrete. Quasi are onstage and once again the place is packed with anxious fans. Quasi, of course, are the former husband/wife team of Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney) and Sam Coomes (ex-Heatmiser). They've long been championed here locally, and watching them crank out fuzz-covered pop ditties from the rear of the stage I'd hoped to catch a bit of the Quasi bug. Janet's rhythmic pounding against Coomes' organ assault (at times so enthralled with it that he would buck about and lift the organ off its stand with his knees) was both fun to watch and listen to, but all said and done, I just couldn't get it to "click" for me as a whole, and when I feel this way against a crowd that is obviously enthralled with every turn of note, I wonder what it is exactly that I'm missing. More questions for the Lost and Found department.  -Craig Young

Tony Levin -- Bumbrella Stage
Outside under the heat of the afternoon sun, Tony Levin and friends were showcasing the prog rock chops. As much as I wholly admire Levin's musicianship and unique style as a bassist, this stuff bored me to tears and I had to leave before some kid saw this aging punker break down and weep for mercy.

So it was off for a stop at the burrito stand next to the Northwest Airlines Blues Stage for the annual tradition of putting my faith and health--mostly my health--into the hands of a food vendor in the hopes that what they would concoct for me would sate my hunger without knocking me down with E. coli, hepatitis, fly shit, spittle, nose drippings, or any one of a number of lovely condiments that you gamble will not come with your $5 burrito. As always, it's a champ. Standing on the edge of the lawn forming the perimeter of the Blues Stage, I make sure the aging bikers are still holding camp. They are, reassuring me that all is still good with Bumbershoot.  -Craig Young

I once was a keen admirer of Harper until a few years ago when I was at a waterfront concert of his. My girlfriend and I had somehow become a magnet for all the dyslexic, rhythmless dancers in the crowd. In front of us was a plump, older lady doing the "hippie twirl"; to one side a man with a mullet cut doing the "making ice cream" dance; on the other a younger lady wearing corduroys under a working dress and wearing a bandana doing that "Stevie Wonder head bob" thing. Soon enough more would follow and it was then that I realized what fate the hippies had in store for Ben Harper--he was to be theirs. Sure enough, several years later Harper has found himself an unfailing following of hippie children. And sadly, his music seems to have become watered down to fit that easygoing Dave Mathews style. His recent works just don't seem to match up to the power of his first two releases, and even with an amazing backing band (including the indomitable bass powerhouse Juan Nelson), I just wasn't falling for it. But who am I to complain? Here I was, having somehow found my way into the private beer garden watching thousands of kids hang on every note, every lyric, every breath of Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals. Everybody else was enjoying it--fair enough--I will to, promising myself to check the Lost and Found department on the way out.  -Craig Young

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