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This past Friday, Steinbrueck Park was the site of a free, four-hour concert that punctuated Pike Place Market’s Centennial Celebration. It was a great time to be a proud, passionate Seattleite. A wonderful time to be a frugal tourist. And, despite a tiny bit of Pearl Jam-overpromising by Party promoters, a perfect time to be Seattlest.
As people started to pour into the area, claiming spots in what little grass was left by the freshly-erected stage, a Souza tribute-band (we guess) kicked off the show. North Arcade and the Total Experience Gospel Choir followed. We took them in from Virginia Street’s steep incline, more interested in the crowd than the stage at that point. We spotted 5x1 photographer Lance Mercer milling around, shooting the stage from afar. We noted the homeless folks camped out by the Honey Buckets beside the stage. A guy passed by and offered us "thirty bucks for an eighth" under his breath. The proposition made us feel younger, cooler, less square than we know we are. It also sent us down to the "VIP tent" we’d been promised access to.
Soon we were safe within the confines of a small, perfectly situated and nearly empty "journalist" corral before the stage’s left side. And our confidence was immediately deflated by the far younger, far cooler, far more talented Vinnie Miranda. As promised by Party emcee Nancy Guppy, the 15 year-old channeled Johnny Cash flawlessly. We spotted Pearl Jam’s Stone Gossard watching backstage, a big smile on his face. (The sighting sent our Will they play or won’t they? thought-train on its way).
Then there was Fankick!, a strangely mesmerizing two-girl salute to 80s dance, music, and neon fashion.
David Crowe, apparently a really funny guy when not at the Pike Place Market Party, resorted to an Eddie Vedder impression. It was actually decent. (Will Eddie joke about that when/if he appears?)
Circus Contraption, a strange, make-you-feel-dirty-somehow act came next. Girls dressed as pink poodles danced and flashed their crotches at the sky. Guys in white makeup and creepy, fake, eastern European accents sang. A big male dancer and a small female dancer played off each other’s gravity. (Where’s Stone now?)
Next came Artis the Spoonman, and we finally felt the festivities click. Wholehearted applause. Hoots and hollers. A breathless, post-performance Spoonman extolling the virtues of good parenting and education. "Entertainment is not for sale," he said. "It’s only for education." (Hey, there’s Mike McCready with Stone!)
Emcee Guppy emerged again and introduced The Iconics—to massive applause—a "house band" that would play "all-Seattle songs with all-Seattle artists." The band members: Dave Dederer and Andrew McKeag (Presidents of the USA); Mike Musberger (Posies); Jeff Fielder (Sera Cahoone); Ty Bailie (Dept. of Energy). The singer(s), it would come to pass, would rotate.
As The Iconics launched into a raucous instrumental, we noticed that thousands of people were now packed into Western and up Virginia to 1st, an impressive, peaceful human gridlock. (Police officers and security guards were stationed here and there.)
Singers trooped onto the stage for spirited performances of "The Witch" (Evan Foster), "Angel of the Morning" (Sean Nelson), Perry Como’s "Seattle" (Paul Jensen), and "Acres of Clams" (John Roderick). It was a Seattle love-fest, a non-stop jam, an audience sing-along riot. But the roof—or sky, as it were—was yet to blow off.
Noticing our ongoing fight with our zoom-challenged camera, a VIP tent staffer—amazing, accommodating Molly—asked if we’d like to get closer. Um, yeah. And just in time for Mike McCready’s Hendrix-faithful shredding of "Spanish Castle Magic." We stood at the stage’s edge, two feet from Mr. McCready, and suppressed the adolescent urge to freak out.
Stone joined the group as they powered through more songs and singers: Heart’s "Barracuda" (Choklate), punk-awesome "I Don’t Like Your Face" (Jensen), "Rock & Roll Pest Control" (wacky PUSA frontman Chris Ballew). Then "Spoonman," with the song’s namesake and Visqueen's Rachel Flotard. Though lacking Chris Cornell's pipes, Flotard lent the classic a surprisingly pleasant feminine edge. What possible Pearl Jam appearance?
Next up was "The Day Brings," a Brad tune, with the adored Shawn Smith on vocals. Beautiful.
Our camera overheating, we rejoined the tiny media contingent to find Dave Dederer standing there with his guitar. We were flattered to learn he knew of our affiliation—he’d "gotten a Google Alert" for Seattlest Seth’s recent Dederer/Sonics piece. Dederer on the team’s identity crisis: "What are you gonna do? It’s not the same anymore, anyway."
And up he went for another Hendrix song—"Little Wing," accompanied by a dude (City Councilman Peter Steinbrueck) carrying an "Uncensored" sign around the stage. He must have gotten a Google Alert, too.
Ballew returned for Richard Berry’s "Louie Louie," which had everyone within a mile radius smiling. It turned out to be the last song with vocals—if you don’t count Guppy’s "Happy Birthday" to the Market or Ballew’s curtain-call, a capella "Peaches." The real, fitting end to the show? Mike's blistering, Hendrix-influenced take on "The Star-Spangled Banner."
So there was no surprise Pearl Jam performance. Big deal. The show was incredible. Nobody had paid a dime to see it. And we’d gotten nearly as close to some of our favorite Seattle rock heroes as Lance Mercer had. Who could complain about that?
Great work, Market Party planners, Centennial Celebration organizers and media liaisons. (Thanks again, Molly.) Now start working on next year’s blowout. Why not? Every birthday after 100 is a blessing.
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Clint - It was a pleasure. Glad I could be of assistance. :) Molly