In Which It's Bumber Time Again!

I had a really great idea. I was going to blog Bumbershoot, with sample MP3s by the musicians I heard.

Then I thought about how the internet connection I'll have access to is really not all that speedy, and how maybe it's rude to stay at a friend's house and then hog their computer for ages every night while uploading music files, and so I revised my idea.

See, I already told my friend Mitch, who can't make it to the 'Shoot this year, that I'd send her a CD of musicians who are performing (or at least the ones I had MP3s for). And it's relatively quick and easy for me to just post those tracks here as well. So here you go. If you were going to hang out with me at Bumbershoot 2006, this is what you'd most likely hear:

SATURDAY
The Epoxies - Need More Time
Laura Veirs - Magnetized
Laura Veirs - Fire Snakes
Rogue Wave - Publish My Love
Deerhoof - Twin Killers
Deerhoof - Wrong Time Capsule
Of Montreal - More Noir Blues and Tinnitus
Cloud Cult - Living on the Outside of Your Skin
Cloud Cult - Breakfast with My Shadow
Lady Sovereign - Random

SUNDAY
The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic
The New Pornographers - All for Swinging You Around
Spoon - They Never Got You
Spoon - I Turn My Camera On
Vashti Bunyan - Diamond Day
Mates of State - Goods

MONDAY
(I won't actually be there Monday, but these are the shows I'd see.)
Rocky Votolato - White Daisy Passing
Bettye LaVette - Just Say So
Feist - Mushaboom (Postal Service Remix)
Metric - Hardwire

Note: Although The New Pornographers are quite wholesome, the Lady Sovereign track contains expletives and drug references. All tracks available for one week. Songs posted for promotional purposes only. All of everybody's rights remain reserved by everybody.

In Which We're All Powerless.

The power was out when I got home this evening. I wasn't really surprised, because a section of my street was blocked off by police cars, and all the traffic lights between there and home were out. But it was still weird. I couldn't get on the internet, couldn't have a hot dinner, couldn't hear the phone ring (never mind, it's too complicated to explain here), couldn't watch the rest of the Creature Comforts DVD that's already overdue, couldn't put music on the stereo. I read for a while, dozed a little, and was startled by a distant screeech -- thud.

I put my shoes back on and went out to investigate. A car had hit a telephone pole at the far end of the block; the driver was standing nearby, shoulders slumped, talking on a cel phone. Blocks beyond, traffic veered around blinking blue and red lights. I couldn't see what was going on, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. How many things can go wrong in my neighborhood in one night?

It was getting darker inside, and out of boredom and curiosity I set out on foot to investigate. The traffic accident(s) and line repairmen were in different directions, so I chose the latter, knowing that the only way to find out why the power was out was to just walk down and see for myself. (News publications, online or in print, never seem to cover important things like this.)

The blocked-off section of street contained several darkened apartment complexes, and clusters of residents stood around, watching the men in the cherry picker do mysterious things to the power line. The atmosphere was light-hearted; neighbors swapped info, cracked jokes. "Well, I wasn't here, but apparently something wore out and gave way, and a line fell," a tall blonde woman told me, tugging at her dog's leash. "I heard it happened about 3 or 4:00 this afternoon. The line was sparking, and it caught the grass on fire right over there." The dog growled at a line repairman who tried to join the conversation. A Schipperke: what it lacked in size, it made up for in venom. "No lights indoors, no TV, no internet -- what are you gonna do but stand out here and watch?" the woman said. "I bet the power will be back on just in time for bed."

The fading light brought people outside all down the street. As I walked home, I saw couples sitting in their front yards chatting, parents out toting kiddies in various carriers and strollers, way more people than usual hanging out at the park. A male vocal quartet stood in front of one house, harmonizing with sheet music in hand: Too late, my brother; too late, but never mind.... One of them glanced at me self-consciously; I grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

I am way too tired and cranky to draw philosophical conclusions about the effects of technology, or the lack thereof, on community in urban neighborhoods. I would prefer not to extrapolate predictions, optimistic or otherwise, about life after peak oil. All I know is that this evening, for the first time in a long (long) time, I felt like blogging again.

And also, on the way home, I had this song in my head:
The Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)