^{Bruce Pavitt and Jonathan Poneman raising the Sub Pop flag (photo by Kelly O)}

So, blah, blah, blah, Sub Pop is 20 or some such nonsense. And they throw a motherfucker of a birthday party.

Last night things kicked off with a little to-do at the top of the Space Needle, which, as of yesterday was painted to look from above like a 7” record and was flying the Sub Pop flag. That is what world domination looks like. To say nothing of going out of business. Or hanging on the flippety flop.

Everyone was there, walking in circles, ricocheting from one bar to buffet table to another. I saw half of the Shins (the good half), so there’s obviously no hard feelings about them releasing their next record on their own label. I saw Spener Moody, so apparently the infamously hard feelings between Murder City and Sub Pop have softened at least for the occasion.

Maybe a half dozen people asked me if we were rotating, even though we were on the observation deck below the rotating restaurant. Someone told me it took them a minute and a half to walk around the outdoor observation ring. After a few drinks, it did kind of feel like we were rotating.

Anyway, it was a hell of a kick-off. Happy birthday, Sub Pop.