This is where I do that old person thing and tell all you kids about how I used to go to Bumbershoot every year on my birthday and wander around all four days, and discover bands, and nerd out and love, love, love it. You know, back when it was free, and then like, $5 a day, or $15 for the whole weekend.

And then it just got to be too much—standing shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, crushing through crowds trying to make my way between stages, the damn stupid “we must empty out the entire Key Arena” rule between shows, so you couldn’t even camp out for two bands in a row. Gawd. Waiting in line for 2 hours to get into Memorial Stadium somehow became less fun too…and my tolerance for bullshit declined sharply after I edged over 35.

But! After not going for many years, I have braved it again for the last three, and honestly it’s growing on me again. Even though they cut it down to 3 days instead of 4, the festival seems mellower overall. Sure there are still a lot of people, but it’s not so many that I can’t deal with it, more or less. And it made me remember what I love about Bumbershoot the most: a combination of seeing old favorites play, and wandering around and a listening to bands that I might not have heard of, or have been intrigued by. And there’s so much other stuff besides the music to love too.

And so, Sunday at Bumbershoot was pretty much the best Bumbershoot day ever, because of the following things:

1:30pm: Katie Kate kicks the newly installed stage at The Promenade’s ass. Like, all the way across the entire Seattle Center. This woman knows how to work a crowd, and work it she did—there were more people dancing to Katie than I’ve ever seen in Seattle. The guy in front of me was popping and locking so much I thought he might implode. At the height of my enjoyment, she threw out a “Read My Motherfucking Tote Bag” …tote bag, and my boyfriend caught it. HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO ME. And then she nearly killed me by covering Kate Bush “Running Up That Hill.” What. I love her. So so so much.

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My love affair with The Cult began with, appropriately, the single “Love”, from their 1985 release of the same name. From there, I snapped up all the imports I could find, including a copy of the Death Cult 1988 re-release, picture CDs with remixes, a tape of Electric scored from the Lynwood Fred Myer that I eventually wore out, and spent many hours dancing to "She Sells Sanctuary" at The Underground.

After 5 concerts spent swooning over Ian's voice and wishing that Billy Duffy was my boyfriend, and stomping around in my boots wearing jean shorts with ripped up black tights and Cult concert tees, my fascination admittedly waned after 1991’s Ceremony failed to wow me like their previous albums, and I am barely familiar with the songs on The Cult and Born Into This.

But the release of their new album, Choice of Weapon, has prompted a fresh tour, and because I know someone (Hi, Jenny George!) who is as excited as I am about The Cult, I HAVE TO GO to the show at The Neptune next Tuesday night (8/21). And you should too.

{The Cult with Murder of Crows | Neptune Theatre | Tuesday, 8/21 | Doors at 7pm, Show at 8pm | Tix $38.50 online, before fees | All Ages, bar with valid ID}

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For many Seattleites, The Rocket was the best source for all the music things, and most of us knew someone involved with putting it together. I used to pick up my copies of this bi-weekly mag excitedly, (long before I was picking up copies of The Stranger or The Weekly) scanning the pages for upcoming shows. In particular, shows involving The Posies. Duh. 

Anyway, after years of reunion rumors, Rocket publisher Charles R. Cross is throwing a party on Sunday, August 5 at the Feedback Lounge in West Seattle from 2-7pm for all the writers, artists, photographers, and staff of this long-missed local mag. All musicians that had write-ups in the paper are welcome too, which means that this has the potential to be one, big amazing musical event.

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“Do you have Some Girls?” I asked the guy at Bop Street, fingers crossed.

“Yup! Got it right up here. Oh look, we even have the uncensored cover.”

And this is how I bought my first vinyl since the 80s.

My boyfriend and I had recently decided that we definitely needed a turntable—me, after many years of hemming and hawing about getting one, him, swayed by the release of Tomahawk’s Eponymous to Anonymous—and what better day to set out to do it than Record Store Day 2012?

But what vinyl would I buy? What would be my first purchase? I thumbed through the bins at Sonic Boom, stopping on The Cure Entreat, a collection of Morrissey records, and gazing fondly at the GIGANTIC Joy Division and Smiths sets I couldn’t possibly afford—when I found it: The Rolling Stones Some Girls. But wait—this was the reissue, and the reissue didn’t have the pull out cover with the band’s faces and the wigs that I remember so fondly from my youth.

As soon as my hands touched the copy from Bop Street, I was back in my parents' house leafing through my dad’s record collection and carefully sliding the cover back and forth, counting how many different face and wig combos I could make, gazing at Marilyn and Lucy and admiring the rainbow colors.

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Ohmanohmanohman. SIFF has put together one of my favorite programs, EVER with Castles in the Sky: Miyazaki, Takahata, and the Masters of Studio Ghibli.

They’ve lined up screenings of all these amazing animated films from Tokyo's Studio Ghibli IN NEW 35mm PRINTS! And screenings in both English dubbed and Japanese w/subtitles versions! You guys! That is awesome. I’ve been slacking in catching up on the newer Studio Ghibli films, so this is going to give me a chance to experience them on the big screen at SIFF Cinema Uptown.

All of these films are SO beautiful, funny, and just plain fantastic. I highly recommend scooping up some tickets to My Neighbor Totoro (The umbrella scene! The cat bus! So much insane grinning!), Kiki’s Delivery Service, Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke AND MORE to delight your inner imaginary child. Or even, your actual, uh. children. If you have them.

{Castles in the Sky: Miyazaki, Takahata, and the Masters of Studio Ghibli | SIFF Cinema Uptown | June 22-July 5 | $10 | $5 SIFF Members | $9 Youth (20 & under) and Seniors (65+) Matinees: $7 | $5 SIFF Members | Click here for full schedule and tickets}

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at The Triple Door

 

{Apologies for the crappy cell phone pic, you guys!}

Was this my most anticipated show of the year? So far—YES. I think it was. And so I was a little worried when my friend told me that Matthew had stumbled a bit during his Portland show, but I needn’t have been: The Girlfriend Tour was exactly what I wanted it to be.

Opening band Summer Twins (from Riverside, CA) took the stage, and I was pretty much immediately taken with the two sisters at the heart of the band: Chelsea and Justine. First off, Justine plays DRUMS, and I’m a sucker for a female drummer. Second, Chelsea has one of these awesome sultry-cute voices, and plays the guitar in an adorable sway-dancing way that is almost too twee to handle.

Rounded out by Marcia Rivera on guitar (who stood completely and totally still the whole set) and Levi Audette on bass (who bounced around the other side of the stage in stark contrast), Summer Twins played a bunch of really solid, utterly danceable super-fun indie rock tunes that mixed a hint of of surfy-garage rock with retro pop.

Bounciness was in abundance, my friends. I bought their self-titled debut CD at the break, resisting the vinyl…but only temporarily. Because I bet they sound AMAZEBALLS on vinyl.

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The Tilda Stardust tumbler attempts to answer the burning question: Are Tilda Swinton and David Bowie the same person? 

Winter is coming! But it's so cuuute: Playmobil Game of Thrones.

Finally! Some useful relationship advice from HP Lovecraft.
"Your shadowy correspondent’s mention of the ill-regarded numbers nineteen and three recalls an unutterable experiment performed on sticklebacks by the Swedish icthyologist Dalgaard."

Someone contact Rick Deckard so we can find out if this thing is a replicant or human. (*shiver*)

Hey! Let's all buy some thrift store paintings and add monsters into them!

A real-life Amelie(esque) story: Woman finds WWII love letters at a Goodwill and returns them to the family. 

Someone is a very faithful Breaking Bad fan: Save Walter White

If you listened to radio at all in the 90s, you couldn't escape hearing Matthew Sweet's swirling guitar-filled, gets-stuck-in-your-head, bouncy hit "Girlfriend". And if you were a genuine power pop lover, you toted around the Girlfriend album like it was pure gold, shuffling the tape or CD from your car to your boom box, sticking a song from it on every mix you made, and stashing your vinyl safely in a plastic sleeve, to make sure it stayed pristine and unscratched for listening parties.

Lucky for those of us that are Girlfriend aficionados, Matthew Sweet is touring for the 20^th Anniversary (WHAT), and is making a stop at The Triple Door for two nights of playing Girlfriend in its entirety. Oh, the nostalgic 90s bliss that will ensue during those two nights! Can you imagine the amount of drool on the floor that will be left from power pop enthusiasts? I can. And I bet the Triple Door can too, which is why there were super smart to book him for two shows.

Due to some divine intervention (ha!), I'll be at the Wednesday night show, imagining the way I used to gaze lovingly at young Matthew’s photo on the inside of the CD cover and hope he was talking to me when he sang, “I hear you’re looking for someone to love”, and preparing my ears for his sweet, sweet (double ha!) vocals. And! We have a pair of tix to giveaway to it too! Wanna go see Matthew on 4/25? Send an email to tig {at} threeimaginarygirls {dot} com sometime between now and the end of the day Friday {4/20}, with the subject line "Evangeline". We'll pick a winner and notify you over that weekend that you're on the list +1.

My Girlfriend CD and remixed single (pictured above, right) are a little worse for wear, but this girl can still swoon over Matthew Sweet -- even 20+ years later. 

{Matthew Sweet Girlfriend Tour | The Triple Door | 4/25 & 4/26 | Doors at 6pm, show at 7:30pm | All Ages | $28 adv, $32 day of, $38 VIP}

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According to this awesome 80s PSA, The HOFF isn't stoked about pot, and neither is K.I.T.T.

Does a bear get jiggy in the woods? Apparently, yes. 

What happens when a pro illustrator draws the stuff kids think up? Imaginawesome, of course.

Looking for St. Gwen? You probably need some of these celebrity prayer candles. 

Disney gets the design treatment: 10 beautiful alternative movie posters. 

How long do you think you would survive in a horror movie? Check this flow-chart so you're prepared. 

Yum! Maybe these eensy food photos will satisfy your snack cravings. 

And this week's imaginary cuteness award goes to: 33 photos of animals with stuffed versions of themselves.

Oh 80s, how I love and hate that I grew up in your giant bang/legwarmer/off-the-shoulder culture. Some things never go out of style (especially according to Urban Outfitters)—even though they probably should—but even though my fashion sense evolved, my taste in music has stayed pretty much the same. Sure, I find bands I like now, but for the most part it’s because they all remind me of the bands I loved when I was a teenager.

Lace up your Docs and dive into a pile of nostalgia as I run through three albums that helped get me through the confusion and terror of my high school years, and which I still play on repeat 20-something years later.

The Cure: Disintegration
Affectionately (?!) titled  “the wrist-slitting album” by my group of constantly black-clad Goth-y friends, Disintegration is a depressing tearjerker of an album, meant for playing just after you’ve been dumped while you write long tomes of terrible poetry, burning that candle you shoved into a cheap Chianti bottle, next to the dead rose you still keep in a vase decorated by torn black lace.

The first strains of the opener, “Plainsong” tinkles in quietly, gradually building to an explosion of gorgeous notes that fall slowly, which make it the perfect sad movie song (major props to Sophia Coppola of sticking it into Marie Antoinette at just the right moment). And then Robert starts in with his mantra of heartbreak, and any hope you have of keeping it together totally crumbles. And that’s how the rest of the album goes: 12 songs of beautiful, amazing tunes focusing on love gone wrong, obsession, and pain. Even the strange “Lullaby”, about a frightening nightmare, is really about having your hopes dashed and your heart torn asunder. And everyone remembers sobbing through “Pictures of You”—while actually looking at photos of their exes, right? "I've been living so long with my pictures of you, that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel..." Oh Robert Smith. You get me. You really, really get me.

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