Post submitted yesterday morning but published this morning due to editorial resources being dedicated to yesterday's murders. —Eds
Sasquatch App had some pretty hideous artwork happening
The Sasquatch App was really helpful for schedules, band bios, maps, and info, but you had to look up what you wanted to see pretty quickly because after 30 seconds it would promptly crash. Also, the cartoony artwork for the app and adorning the sides of every stage is kind of terrible.
Hospitality is a K Records band from Brooklyn that I found out about from impatiently skipping around the Sasquatch festival website's media player of bands playing the festival. I was so pleasantly surprised by their song "Friends of Friends," that I made it a point to check them out. They were fun and charming live, plus the wind was blowing so hard during their set on the Bigfoot Stage and it reminded me of the music video for Blur's "Song #2."
Two shirtless dudes in the audience at Hey Marseilles had the singer's name painted onto their chests, and were yelling and pointing during their pretty orchestral pop set. I'm hoping that band will be getting more fanatical hockey-style fans in the future.
Hey Marseilles Noon Set: Seems a good a time as any to pop your shirt off and paint your chest
Table wars and mind-games were raging by day three in the Media Room. There was a lot of Beard Rock at this festival, which I avoided as much as I could so no one has to hear me complain about it. There was even an act called Beardyman, but I don't think it was an actual NW Beard Rock band. Later on, one of my friends referred to the genre as "Dilf Rock."
NW Beardrock, or Dilf Rock
I don't care much for M. Ward, so it was not a great place to have some pot food kick in. I tried to make a joke about it to Emily—"More like Zzzz Ward"—but she was also pretty stoned and asked me if I was speaking English. Alternately, Thee Satisfaction is a fantastic place to have pot food kick in.
The wind was also going crazy during Wild Flag's set, and that band had the most high-kicks during guitar solos I've ever seen...it made me wonder if they ever kick each other over on accident. They ended with Carrie Brownstein putting down her guitar and singing a delightful Patti Smith cover.
"We are happy to be here in this wind-tunnel White Snake video."
In the back of the Yeti Stage, I saw a girl crack the last beer from backstage and smugly congratulate herself with, "Looks like you're gonna have to deal with the canned Margaritas, 'Hey Rosetta!'"
Seeing Jack White on Saturday was the highlight for me. Speaking of killer aesthetics, even Jack White's guitar techs had bowler hats and tailored suits on as they set up amps. The last time I saw him perform was over a decade ago, in Southern California when I was a teenager and had randomly snuck into a smallish White Stripes show. I've been a huge Jack White fan ever since.
For his solo project, he is alternately touring with both an all female and an all male backing band, and switching off which band he plays with. On Saturday, the Edward Scissorhands-coiffed Jack opted for the all male backing band. I'm not sure how you would feel if you dont have a 10-plus-year love for Jack White's music, but I most certainly found myself in the front, embarrassingly scream-yelling lyrics to the handful of White Stripes songs he played along with the teenage fan boy next to me.
Emecks, the Jungle Cat from Don't Talk To The Cops
We ended up waking up late to find that our stomachs had been eaten away and destroyed by three days of subsisting only on sugar-free Red Bulls, marijuana treats, and canned margaritas. We limped through the 3 pm crowds to see Don't Talk to the Cops playing the Maine Stage. They killed it as usual, even under the hot sun, but unfortunately the combination of serotonin depletion, dehydration, taurine, and caffeine causes a full body hangover that forced us to retreat back to Seattle before Beck plays. THE END.