Monday of Bumbershoot: I would have been completely happy with two days, but no – Seattle handed me a third to enjoy. All the music, the rain, the moshing, and everything else that came with the biggest gathering of music in Seattle over Labor Day weekend could not have been the same without the thousands of people there to enjoy it all. 
Monday started quite differently than the previous two days. I couldn’t find parking anywhere, but determined as I was, I drove around a 12-block radius for 20 minutes searching for parking before I found a lot for $15 at 2:15. Just in time to make it to Say Hi.
Say Hi (formerly Say Hi To Your Mom), was one of the main bands I put on my checklist when the lineup was first released months ago only after hearing all of 2009’s “Oohs and Aahs.” Soon after arriving home from Bumbershoot, I searched for all of their music. Eric Elbogen, the brainchild of all that is Say Hi, made it clear at one point that he wasn’t used to touring with the current lineup, but it didn’t show nearly as much as I would have guessed. At one point he asked the bassist, I think his name was Andy, to ask him something.
“Why did you change your name?” Andy asked.
“A question that doesn’t put me on the spot?”
“Oh, well now you’re kind of putting me on the spot.” 
“Two gigs with you and you’ve already screwed up.”
They were very musically in tune, playing off each other’s vibe, with the help of the energetic drummer. They weren’t nearly as united as say, Cold War Kids from Sunday, but individually, they all supplied their own energy for the crowd to feed off of. I especially liked the short comments between songs briefly explaining what the songs were about.
“This one’s about vampires,” Elbogen said, prefacing “Sweet Sweet Heartkiller” from 2006’s Impeccable Blahs. That’s the best part about Say Hi’s live performance, deciphering the great lyrics, while keeping a low-key danceable beat underneath. It’s just the right about of energy for 2:30 p.m. in the afternoon.
After a 45 minute search for a few friends I wasn’t aware were going to show up, I trotted back to the Broad Street Stage, past the Purrrfect Pals booth with their adorable kittens, to see Mirah. She – again – was on my original checklist of performers to see. I know I said in previous articles that I dig concerts where I can dance. Mirah is one of those exceptions. The way you’re supposed to listen to her music is the exact opposite of someone like Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head. You’re just supposed to experience it, organically, with the violin, the clarinet, the sitar-looking thing, and Mirah’s beautiful vocal instrument. It’s almost magical how someone with such a seemingly small voice can captivate such a large and muddy lawn. I missed maybe the first ten minutes of her set, so I don’t know if she played “La Familia,” which is kind of disappointing, but for the most part, Mirah’s set was really low-key. The one exception was her last song, “The Garden,” which she explained as the song the Portland High School drill team used in one of their 
competitions.
“Because they wanted to win!” And everyone cheered.
Mirah and her band of strings and woodwinds were a very nice change from the energy-draining past two days, and a good chill session before Franz Ferdinand on the main stage that night.
Speaking of Franz Ferdinand, my sister and I got in line pretty early for the main stage, listening to Janelle Monae on the Fisher Green while we waited. From what I heard, she was pretty wicked, and according to multiple recommendations from different people, apparently I missed out not catching her full set. But I was waiting for Franz Ferdinand.
I’ll admit it – I tend to be a fangirl when it comes to my favorite bands – Franz Ferdinand being one of them. I saw them almost five years ago at the “Deck the Hall Ball” put on by Seattle’s Original Alternative radio station 107.7 The End. They were a part of a great lineup all those years ago – including Keane, the Shins, Snow Patrol, The Killers, and Modest Mouse, ironically, since Modest Mouse was playing on the main stage right after Franz. But when I left there, Franz Ferdinand was the band that blew we away. And five years later, I was ready to be blown away yet again.
I was, quite literally.
After waiting in the mosh pit for 15 minutes or so, Alex, Nick, Bob and Paul walked on stage and the entire stadium squealed with delight. They started off the night with “No You Girls,” their current hit, then going directly into an older song, “Dark of the Matinee” (which just so happens to be my favorite of theirs). It was a perfect mix of the old and new stuff. Alex introduced the rest of the band for us to cheer for individually, and they matched the energy with their musicianship. Not only did they pump us up, they sounded great. As the set went on, the crowd got closer and closer together, to the point where the security guards all sprayed us with hoses to get people to chill out. It didn’t work very well, because halfway through the set, after mega hits “Take Me Out” and “Ulysses,” Alex and the gang broke out into “This Fire,” another of their hits from the first record. This got the crowd jumping all together; I couldn’t even get a good photo of anything. I was too into it. Then as people got tired of jumping, I felt a sharp thwack on the back of my head and then could barely make out a floating body above my head as I grabbed my throbbing skull, and tried to dodge the rest of the crowd surfers making their way towards the stage. Immediately, I wanted to get out of the mosh pit, but this was Franz Ferdinand – the one band I had come to see. So I toughed it out for awhile. I shunned the pain and danced along with everyone else, but then it got too crazy for my head to take. I had to get out of there. 
And let me tell you – I was heartbroken that I had to leave the mosh pit. I wanted to stay there for the rest of the set, as Alex traipsed around the stage, singing the undeniably infectious lyrics with his seductive Scottish drawl. But I found my way out of the sweaty mosh pit and cooled down for a bit and had some water, and found my friends, as I’d been the only one to venture into the mosh pit. But even far away from the stage, Franz Ferdinand shined across the entire stadium. It was mesmerizing. Especially in the finale, when they played a drawn out version of “Lucid Dreams,” which already includes a long, electronic outro, but this live version made the wide-open area I was dancing in feel like a rave – and I’ve never even been to a rave.
But, it also could have been the contact high.
Whether you were in the line of fire in the mosh pit or secluded out in the middle of the stadium, away from the mayhem, Franz Ferdinand lived up to my expectations, then surpassed them. They were so good, I didn’t even care that I couldn’t stay for Modest Mouse (my sister’s 17, and she still had school in the morning, and I was driving her home).
Now that was the way to end Bumbershoot.
