Sasquatch Report: “Not Only Blind But Deaf”

First of all, we could describe it all, the minutiae, the ecstasy -- but streaming video is also fun. MSN Video was at Sasquatch, filming for future on-demand streaming starting Thursday, June 1. (We understand teasers and highlights are up now.) They have artist interviews and a blog from Sean Nelson (whom our friend thinks lives upstairs from him, after seeing him appear with the Decemberists -- "He's in a band?" he asked. "Man, he makes a racket stomping around up there. He's got a piano, too.") You can create your own playlist or just sit back and Sasquatch.

We heard Big Japan, and would listen to them again. Right now the soulful, plangent Rocky Volotato is serenading us from the Yeti stage. He's like Bruce Springsteen and Janis Joplin's musical lovechild -- authentic, crazy, stirring.

At the mainstage this afternoon, Nada Surf opened with a popular song and the rest of the set was only slightly less winning. The Polar Vervets sang about someone who looked good on the dance floor, and how their neighborhood changes when the sun goes down, plus a new song. Alex Turner critiqued the body surfing going on: “All it takes is a little unity,” he said in that proper, upper-crust British accent of his, “you’ve got to cooperate.”

At the end of the set, he played weather god: “We’ll play one more song and then leave you to get rained on." Then they played one more song, and it did rain, briefly.

The cloud passed by the time the Decemberists took the stage. They're our favorite band of the day -- and not just because we feel a strange fellowship with other groups whose names end in -ist. Besides singing about joint suicide and that time they were watching a friend's bike and it got stolen, they led the crowd in calisthenics. Sean Nelson joined them for 16 Military Wives. And they closed with a song about chimney-sweeping.

Brendan over at the Slog calls Sufjan Stevens’ set “weep-worthy.” We love Sufjan, but from up on the grassy hillside, it was clear his breathily piped vocals (he’s got less oomph than Paul Simon) weren’t up to the task of filling the amphitheater. All the red, white, and blue in the world -- and he had most of it onstage -- couldn't help with that.

As a side note, the bands have been filling in with calling us “Sasquatch” (in lieu of a city name). And looking around, we are hairy and smelly. So we are not sure what to make of every single band's mention of how good-looking the crowd is. Are they desperate to be liked, coming on to us? What snaggle-toothed, warty crowd have they just come from serenading?