I'm still coming down from Bumbershoot weekend, too tired to go to sleep even given the healing powers of the post-festival drink Josh and I just had. Working the festival is a lot of fun, but it's also work--in three days I saw part of the sets for approximately 40 bands, crossing and re-crossing Seattle Center at top speed, all with a terrible head cold. I hurt all over. It's not all backstages and cute boys.
The first day was super crowded with things to see all starting 15 minutes after each other, and after that we could have slowed down, but concentrating on a festival is like drugs, and once you get used to it you start itching to see more things. The first three songs of a band isn't really enough to know how you're going to settle in together, but there's time for that later. I didn't see anything that I wish I hadn't seen except for a few minutes of some multi-cultural dance-rap effort, although I will tell you for free that I am not much of an Old 97's fan. There was much that I am glad to have seen, new bands I'm excited to pay attention to, old bands I'm glad to have stopped listening to years ago. A group of teenagers even mistook me for the lead singer for Paramore, which is actually pretty insulting.
This was not a relaxing Labor Day weekend, but it was worth it.