I’ve learned that there’s a certain kind of organized chaos that comes with Bumbershoot, and for something that’s been deeply rooted here in Seattle for over 50 years, it makes sense.
Let me start by saying: the “Seattle Freeze” isn’t really a thing. Everyone, from the security guy’s banter as we got patted down and checked with metal detectors, to the bartenders handling lines 30+ deep at any given time, were open, ready to connect, and there to have a good time just like anyone else at the festival.
My first real stop (after grabbing a white wine) was Die Spitz, an all-female punk band out of Austin, Texas that I’d previously seen at a Viagra Boys concert here in Seattle. Despite a slightly late start, the crowd was packed, which only seemed to build the anticipation. They opened with “I Hate When Girls Die,” and it was one of those sets where, if you didn’t know them before showing up, you were hooked by the end.
From there, it became less about following a schedule and more about seeing where the day took me and my new friends. At one point, a girl none of us knew joined the group, pupils the size of dinner plates.
“They’ve always been like this, I promise,” she said.
Walking past puppeteers, wrestling rings, and kids sitting under trees reading books and eating candy, you get a little bit of everything – a glimpse into the different communities that make Seattle, Seattle. I was there to see music, but Bumbershoot was a reminder that the city’s art scene goes way beyond the stage: weird, creative, calm, and a little chaotic, depending on where you were in the moment.
Peaches was probably the most memorable of the performances. There was music, sexuality, humor, performance art, and, at one point, a giant inflatable that’s better left to photographic evidence than my description. As a Myspace girl who was obsessed with the song “Fuck the Pain Away” back in high school, this was an experience I didn’t know I needed. It was weird in all the best ways, provocative, and it 100 percent belonged at Bumbershoot.
Bikini Kill was easily my favorite set. Luckily, I came with bold friends who were confident enough to get us right up front, dancing in the pit, completely swept up in the energy of the crowd. By the time Kathleen Hanna tore into “Rebel Girl” to close things out, the whole pit lost it, everyone screaming the words back at her, packed in so tight you could barely get your arms up to clap along. Loud, sweaty, chaotic and exactly what we all needed to let go of the real world for a while and just live in the moment.
Between sets, there was wine and dumplings under the Space Needle, aimless wandering through vendors and artists, and no shortage of options for what to do or see next.
Then, as night came, so did the show a lot of us had been waiting for: Turnstile. As we made our way over, the crowd kept growing until, from where we were standing, you couldn’t even see the stage. But you could feel the energy from any point in the crowd as we tried to get as close to the front as possible
When they finally opened with “BIRDS,” we all erupted, dancing, jumping around and screaming along like we belonged in the band. They tore through the set, mosh pits opening up all around us and crowd surfers going overhead during “BLACKOUT,” even sneaking in a cover of “I Wanna Be Adored” before closing the night out with “T.L.C.” It was the kind of euphoric chaos that could only happen in a city that knows how to throw a festival like this.
By the time we made it back out into the night, ears still ringing from “Rebel Girl” and every word we’d screamed back at Turnstile, all I could think was how much I love this city.
