EZRA DICKINSON TAKES IT TO THE STREET P.21
SARAH GALVIN WANTS TO JUMP OFF AN OVERPASS WITH KAY RYAN P.25
DON’T CALL LAURA STEVENSON “CUTE” P.35
PAUL CONSTANT ON BAZ LUHRMANN’S GLITTER BOMB P.55
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WEDNESDAY, MAY 15 7:30 PM Beer Trivia FRIDAY - SUNDAY, MAY 10, 11, 12 Game Days: Mariners vs. Athletics
THURSDAY, MAY 16, 6 PM Brewer’s Dinner*
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SATURDAY, MAY 18 (TWO SESSIONS) 11:30 AM – 1:00 PM, 2:00 – 3:30 PM Beer Judging 101*
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BY BRUCE RAMSEY Writer, Seattle Times Editorial Board
new study says that Seattle has the largest wage gap between women and men among 50 American cities, but I wouldn’t be too worried about it. It’s just that the kind of jobs we have are jobs that disproportionately benefit men.
Seattle has a lot of computer, engineering, and science jobs. I see tech people every day at lunch: Most are men. I do not see science people at lunch, but that’s probably because I do not eat lunch where science people eat. Engineers, I understand, eat lunch at their desks. In any case, the fact that more men eat lunch in public where I eat lunch is not discrimination; it’s that more men can afford good lunches because Seattle’s employers are willing to pay good money for men to do their computer (and, I assume, science and engineering) work for them.
The Seattle area also has well-paid blue-collar jobs: aircraft assembly, shipyard work, machine shops, stevedoring, commercial construction, etc. There are women in all these fields, but more men. Women can work hard for long hours, but more men than women can handle a jackhammer or a big chain saw, or drive a big yellow bulldozer, or conduct a choo-choo train, or hoist a garbage can full of trash, or stevedore it up on a hot summer day. This has nothing to do with discrimination and everything to do with men’s superiority over women. Also, men can burp louder.
Women have made huge strides in indoor work: law, accounting, finance, waiting tables, changing diapers, mopping floors, and making sandwiches. Why, this very issue of The Stranger is practically festooned—festooned like a stevedore’s clipboard, we like to say around the old newspaperman’s lunch table—with writers of the feminine persuasion. The fairer sex is exemplified throughout. After a meaty (if woefully wrongheaded) feature about aPodments by DOMINIC HOLDEN, we are treated to a lighterthan-air profile of some sort of performer by one MELODY DATZ. (True, the profiled performer is a man, but let us not pick nits where nits can safely go unpicked.) How pleasant, to alternate news pieces with inessential portraits of individuals who are doing nonnewsworthy things! As I said, women have their place, and The Stranger knows exactly where that place is. What else is women’s work? SARAH GALVIN espousing the work of a (female) poet! MEGAN SELING waxing rhapsodic about milkshakes and interviewing a (female) musician about melancholy feelings, as women do! As print journalism only becomes more and more vital with the passage of time, Seattle will perhaps one day see an entire newspaper “manned” by ladies writing about women’s topics. And one day, when my compatriots at the Times and I are eating our newspaperman’s lunch, we will gaze across the lunching-place toward these gainfully employed lady journalists, and we will tip our martinis at them, and they will raise their cosmopolitans to us, and smile their comely smiles, before returning to their chatter about, I don’t know, menstruation or whatever it is that women discuss. (It doesn’t really matter.)
COVER ART
Jinkx Monsoon, Drag Superstar by TIMOTHY RYSDYKE
Jinkx performs May 13 at Julia’s on Broadway (juliasrestaurantseattle.com/broadway.htm), as well as in a concert version of Hairspray June 20–23 at the 5th Avenue Theater (5thavenue.org).
Find podcasts, videos, blogs, MP3s, free classifieds, personals, contests, sexy ads, and more on The Stranger’s website.
UW seeks adults with schizophrenia and adults without schizophrenia for a research study investigating how genetics may affect the development of schizophrenia.
Participants should be age 18-65 with no current drug or alcohol problems. Participants will be paid $15/hour for their time and provided lunch.
BY CIENNA MADRID
MONDAY, APRIL 29 The week kicks off with this game-changing admission from professional basketball player Jason Collins: “I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay,” Collins revealed in Sports Illustrated today, stunning thousands of sports lovers and dominating national and international headlines for days. Collins isn’t the only openly gay athlete, but he is the first male athlete in a major American professional sport to come out, and in a culture that worships pro athletes as virile gods while largely stereotyping gay men as limp-wristed drama queens, Collins’s admission is transformative. Perhaps even more transformative was the support showed to Collins by fans and teammates. “Proud of @jasoncollins34. Don’t suffocate who u r because of the ignorance of others,” tweeted LA Lakers guard Kobe Bryant, while college basketball player Chris Burke tweeted, “I find it oddly encouraging that most of the early comments on the Jason Collins cover are about what a crummy player he is.” (Us, too!) Meanwhile, rapper and professional weirdo Lil Wayne offered these sane, if garbled, words on Collins’s sexuality: “It’s opening a lot of doors and it’s showing that it’s a fair world out there. Just to see how many people came to his support and things like that, that’s a pretty fair world out there. Be you.”
•• In related news, on Sunday’s Meet the Press, NFL linebacker and gay-rights activist Brendon Ayanbadejo will discuss how he’s helping coordinate the coming-out announcements for four current NFL players in the
Okay, so I’m a pussy. I really am. I saw you steal money out of that wallet. I did. I should have punched you right in the mouth and returned the money to the rightful owner as soon as I saw it happen, but I did not. I saw a lone wallet on the ground when I walked by the heavily grinding couple in the hallway on my way to a good piss, and while I was washing my hands, I saw you, girl, pick up that wallet. I thought you were looking for an ID, but you really just jacked all of the big bills in that other girl’s wallet. You left the ones but took the big bills. I approached you and asked how much you scored from the wallet. I really wanted you to throw up on yourself from the embarrassment of stealing from innocent people, but as it turns out, you’re just a fucking bitch. Spend the money on scratch tickets and lose, you piece of shit.
not-too-distant future, hopefully in the form of a masked debutante ball. Stay tuned!
TUESDAY, APRIL 30 Segueing from professional victories to personal nightmares, today brings reports of an Irish woman who gave birth to twin girls nearly three months apart . Details come from the Daily Mail , which explains that the first twin was born four months premature last June, after which, “My contractions just stopped dead—it was like I’d never even given birth,” the half-pregnant new mother, Maria Jones-Elliott, told the Daily Mail. Thanks to science and Kegels, the second twin kept incubating in utero for another 87 days before being born in August. The successful births scored the family a Guinness World Record for “longest interval between the birth of twins.”
•• In much worse news, today also brings reports of a death by meat blender at a meatprocessing plant outside of Portland, Oregon.
Forty-one-year-old Hugo Avalos-Chanon was reportedly cleaning inside Interstate Meat Distributors last Friday night when “he fell into the blender, which was in operation at the time,” reports Christianpost.com. AvalosChanon died from “blunt-force injuries and chopping wounds ,” a deputy state medical examiner told the paper.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 1 Speaking of stomach-churning horrors, two Washington men are accused of raping a woman with a vodka bottle in a Tukwila motel, reports Seattlepi.com today. Charging papers state that law enforcement were at the Great Bear Motel on an unrelated call on April 23 when a woman “rushed out of a room crying hysterically and unable to speak,” according to Seattlepi.com. “She rushed to the officers and pleaded that they get her out of there.” The woman explained to police that she’d been drinking with a man later identified as David Eimer, a 23-year-old convicted child molester, and his friend, Nathan Everybodytalksabout, in Everybodytalksabout’s hotel room. As a Tukwila detective would eventually explain to the court, “Eimer and Everybodytalksabout, 26, told her she would have to have sex with them if she wanted to leave the motel room,” reports Seattlepi.com. When she refused, Everybodytalksabout allegedly pinned the woman down as Eimer allegedly raped her with a full vodka bottle. Charging papers state that the two men were arrested at the scene, where they denied raping the victim. “The woman cowered behind police and sobbed uncontrollably as an officer removed the men from the area,” Seattlepi.com says. Police recovered the vodka bottle, and both men were charged with second-degree rape.
THURSDAY, MAY 2 The week continues with good news for pit bull owners, as reports surfaced of a man fighting off a Labrador retriever mix that was brutally attacking his wife. Caren and Laine Henry were out walking their beagle in rural Iowa when the 50-pound dog, named Buddy, bounded from a yard, biting the woman’s thigh and abdomen before it “went for her face,” reports DesMoinesRegister. com. The dog “clamped on her nose and tore
The Stranger and the Portland Mercury invite amateur filmmakers, actual filmmakers, porn stars, porn-star wannabes, kinksters, vanillas, and other creative types to make short porn films—five minutes max—for HUMP! 2013. Films selected for HUMP! 2013 will be screened over three weekends in November in Seattle, Portland, and Olympia. HUMP! films can be hardcore, softcore, liveaction, animated, rough, tender, kinky, vanilla, straight, gay, lez, bi, trans, genderqueer—anything goes at HUMP! (Almost anything: no poop, no animals, and no minors.) HUMP! films are not released online or in any other form. Filmmakers retain all rights. HUMP! does not keep copies of the films once the festival is over. HUMP! lets you be a porn star for the weekend—not the rest of your life!
THERE ARE NO ENTRY FEES FOR HUMP!
THERE ARE PRIZES! BIG ONES!
Three first-place prizes and one grand prize are awarded at HUMP! by audience ballot.
Best Humor: $1,000 First Prize, $250 Runner-Up
Best Sex: $1,000 First Prize, $250 Runner-Up
Best Kink: $1,000 First Prize, $250 Runner-Up
Best in Show: $5,000 Grand Prize
Extra-credit items for 2013: bowling pins, butt plugs, and Hillary Clinton (Include one or more of these items in your film, and you get extra points!)
ALL SUBMISSIONS DUE BY SEPTEMBER 30, 2013. For more details on entering HUMP!—technical requirements, release forms, etc.—go to humpseattle.com.
Questions? E-mail us at hump@thestranger.com
it off.” Laine Henry fought to pull the aggressive dog off his wife, sustaining a deep bite on his arm before “he finally had to bite the dog in its nose, and it let loose,” his ravaged wife explained from her hospital bed. Unfortunately, the county where the attack took place doesn’t have a vicious dog ordinance that would impose criminal penalties on the dog’s owner. Buddy is simply under two weeks of house arrest, while doctors plan the first of many surgeries needed to build Caren Henry a new nose out of her ear.
FRIDAY, MAY 3 Today brings a remarkable stretch of nice weather in Washington, a development that one Bellingham school took full advantage of by declaring Friday a “Sun Day” and canceling classes for its 205 students. “SCHOOL CANCELLED DUE TO GREAT WEATHER! WAHOOO!” announced Bellingham Christian School on its website. “Yeah! It’s a Sun Day today and everyone gets the day off from school!” School continued as normal for the state’s thousands of other students unlucky enough to attend our underfunded public schools.
SATURDAY, MAY 4 Nothing much happened today.
SUNDAY, MAY 5 Today was Cinco de Mayo, a Mexican holiday Last Days celebrated by stopping Seattle revelers on the street Saturday and asking them a simple question: “What does Cinco de Mayo commemorate?” The most popular answer, “tequiiiiiiilaaaa,” was followed by “Mexican Independence Day”
(nope, that’s in September), “spring,” “immigration,” “counting,” and “war?” It actually commemorates the Mexican army’s 1862 victory over Napoleon III’s invading army at the Battle of Puebla, which only one sombrerowearing drunkard out of 17 got right. Olé! Send hot tips to lastdays@thestranger.com.
BY ANNA MINARD
Breaking news, everyone: It turns out that downtown business groups and pot-smoking hippies don’t always get along. The powerful Downtown Seattle Association (DSA) sent
a letter asking the city to deny Hempfest’s permit this year—it is scheduled for the third weekend in August—saying the pot festival, which boasts hundreds of thousands of attendees, has outgrown Myrtle Edwards Park.
“The noise, trash, and traffic congestion resulting from an event of this size—over three days—has a direct negative impact on the thousands of residents who live within a 1⁄2 mile radius,” says the March 29 letter, part of a bulleted list of concerns cosigned by the Belltown Business Association and Uptown Alliance. Unfortunately, the groups continue, their concerns about Hempfest (it is too large, lasts too long, and is messy and unpleasant for neighboring residents and businesses) outweigh any of the festival’s benefits to the neighborhood.
Hempfest must move out of the waterfront
I’M
• Republican state representative Elizabeth Scott (R-39) cast the lone house vote against a bill criminalizing marital rape in the third degree, which is now law. Asked why she opposed the bill, Scott told a voter by e-mail last week that the word rape had been “twisted beyond recognition,” adding, “I am concerned that a divorcing spouse could lie about it just to make more trouble on the way out the door.” Scott did not respond to a request for further comment by press time.
• On May Day, after an immigration reform march passed peacefully through the bowels of downtown, a radical march also happened, for the second year in a row, resulting in less damage to property but more damage to humans. Officers say protesters threw rocks, and then officers fired explosive pepper-spray “blast balls” directly into the crowd and were caught on video pepperspraying people who clearly weren’t any kind of physical threat. SPD spokesperson Sergeant Sean Whitcomb explained: “At the point where the order [to disperse] is given… the assembly is no longer lawful.”
• “Walking your dog is the new smoke break. You should really give it a try,” remarked one Amazon employee to a smoking colleague as his dog took a shit recently on Amazon’s South Lake Union campus. Amazon allows employees to bring their dogs to work but, like all Washington businesses and public spaces, prohibits smoking indoors.
park, the groups say, unless it meets three conditions: (1) Hempfest’s attendance is limited, (2) it is truncated to one day—as opposed to the three days it ran last year—and (3) the city improves traffic control, police patrols, parking enforcement, and trash pickup in the park and a half-mile radius beyond it.
Just a couple reasonable little suggestions! Cut your attendance, slash the event’s time
They say it’s too big and too messy.
span by two-thirds, and get the city to kick in more money to mitigate its impact.
Why are they suddenly taking issue with the pot gathering, which has been held in
• Seattle may soon require some new commercial buildings be prepared to use solar power. Legislation being proposed by the Seattle City Council could require developers to reserve roof space for future solar panels, among other things. As the price of solar panels continues to drop, city energy code advisor Duane Jonlin speculates that “people will be slathering their buildings in this stuff.”
• In an unusual move, Mayor Mike McGinn chastised Seattle Times editorialist Bruce Ramsey on his mayoral blog for publishing a garbage article littered with unsubstantiated garbage facts. Ramsey’s opinion piece published last week denies our city has a problem with wage discrimination He argues that Seattle jobs just happen to “disproportionately benefit men” because men happen to choose high-paying jobs like tech work and wielding chain saws, while women choose “indoor” jobs like nursing and secretarying. Ramsey cites no data to back up his claims about wages or job preferences, which McGinn takes issue with by pointing out that “women in Seattle make 73 cents for every dollar earned by a man.”
Our mayor then proved women aren’t selecting “pink collar jobs” with lower pay by citing a recent study of MBA graduates that found—even with similar levels of experience, education, and ambition—women were still paid nearly $5,000 less than men in their first job out of their MBA program.
“So when Bruce Ramsey says ‘the ‘gap’ everyone talks about is not between men and women with the same jobs,’ he’s just factually incorrect,” McGinn concludes. Finally, on behalf of everyone everywhere, fuck the Seattle Times editorial board.
Myrtle Edwards Park since 1995? DSA spokesman James Sido says his group sent the letter after Hempfest came to them directly, asking for neighborhood feedback.
That’s some feedback.
In a letter obtained by the city, Hempfest director Vivian McPeak shot back a response last month addressing the DSA’s critiques point by point, in most areas strenuously disagreeing with their arguments. Where the DSA claims “customer access to waterfront businesses is virtually halted… at the heart of the critical tourist season,” McPeak says Hempfest’s own research shows the fest is a “positive opportunity” for waterfront business, and he points out that many Hempfest attendees come from out of town, bringing spending money with them. DSA says attendees leave trash for “multiple blocks in every direction”; McPeak says volunteers spend days picking up trash and debris from the area.
McPeak, who didn’t return calls for comment, also writes that they’ve already “examined all park venues and the Seattle Center repeatedly in past years,” as recently as last year, and they’re sure that Myrtle Edwards and its surrounding park areas—Centennial Park and the Olympic Sculpture Park—are the right (and only) place for their event.
It’s Historic, but a Nonissue Thanks to Legalization
BY BEN LIVINGSTON
When Seattle cops cracked down on May Day protests last week, they formed phalanxes and blasted the crowd with pepper spray. But when demonstrators arrive downtown this Saturday—for a protest with its own civil disobedience—the city’s top cop won’t be an adversary. He’ll be the keynote speaker.
The annual Cannabis Freedom March will feature interim Seattle police chief Jim Pugel. Having the leader of a major US city police department speak at a marijuana march is obviously of historic significance, and it demonstrates that after years of marijuana-law protests and organizing, including a legalization initiative that passed last year, the political movement has co-opted officials once seen as opponents.
“This is a public outreach opportunity,” says SPD spokesman Sergeant Sean Whitcomb, who is also speaking at the pot rally. “Our department has been on the leading edge of public education and awareness surrounding Initiative 502. For us to be invited to the Cannabis Freedom March is fitting and not really surprising.”
Had I really called my local police
Reached by phone, Sido insisted the “sole focus” of his association’s letter “was to give [Hempfest] any kind of feedback or constructive criticism that we could,” and maintained “it has nothing to do with the nature of the event; it’s certainly not a condemnation of Hempfest.” It’s just about “logistics.”
When I told him the letter sounds like a bit more than “constructive criticism,” he said there’s “a chance that it could come off as more critical than intended.”
To boil it down: Hempfest asked the neighborhood for feedback, DSA’s feedback was “Don’t hold it here,” and Hempfest countered that there’s nowhere else to hold it and they’re going to keep having it there, thank you very much.
The city, perhaps having learned its lesson in past years (it has often tried to stomp on Hempfest, and it never wins), is siding with the potheads. James Keblas, the director of the city’s Office of Film & Music, and the man to whom the DSA’s letter was addressed, tells The Stranger by e-mail that as long as Hempfest fulfills permit requirements, “it is the City’s intention to issue a permit for Hempfest this year by June 1,” a permit that will include “a cover letter from the City that address[es] concerns from all parties.”
department?
“We serve the people and we support the law,” Whitcomb states matter-of-factly. “We were honored to be invited.”
Still, in other parts of the country, activeduty police rarely criticize the drug war. Neill Franklin of Law Enforcement Against Prohibition tells me the group has fewer than six active-duty members who speak publicly. “There is a perception among active law enforcement that they will be ostracized, passed over for promotion, or disciplined for speaking out on this topic,” Franklin says. In years past, several law-enforcement employees have faced retribution for expressing support of legalization.
Even though using marijuana in public view is technically an infraction these days, and some pot smoking seems inevitable at the march, cannabis consumer outreach is simply part of the police department’s job now. “It’s not a surprise,” says Sergeant Whitcomb. “I think it’s clearly a sign of the times.”
“We were honored to be invited,” says SPD.
On Sat May 11, the Cannabis Freedom March gathers from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Volunteer Park then snakes down Broadway toward Westlake Park for a rally from 2 to 6 p.m. Interim police chief Jim Pugel, city attorney Pete Holmes, and liquor board chair Sharon Foster are expected to speak between 2 and 3 p.m.
JUNE 6–16, 2013
Join the 11-day celebration with events happening throughout Washington, including Science EXPO Day on June 8 at Seattle Center, a free, all-day event featuring more than 150 exhibits, activities and demonstrations for all ages.
JUNE 6 PARAMOUNT THEATRE BEYOND INFINITY? THE SEARCH FOR UNDERSTANDING AT THE LIMITS OF SPACE AND TIME
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JUNE 15 SEATTLE REPERTORY THEATRE
OUR 11TH HOUR: STRAIGHT TALK ON CLIMATE CHANGE FROM PEOPLE WHO KNOW
Featuring Kevin E. Trenberth, Richard Alley, Andrew Revkin and a performance of Seattle Opera’s Heron and the Salmon Girl. TICKETS ON SALE NOW SEATTLESCIENCEFESTIVAL.ORG
By Dominic Holden
In May of 2009, a rumor was floating around City Hall. Homeowners on Capitol Hill were furious about a construction project. So one sunny afternoon, while workers hammered nails into a few unfinished buildings near 23rd Avenue and East John Street, I went knocking on doors to find out what the problem was.
One neighbor was Alan Gossett. Gossett was trying to sell his blue Craftsman house, which shared an alley with the new development. Standing on the corner of his rear deck, Gossett pointed through the trees to the halfbuilt structure and said, “I think this is going to be a magnet for very sketchy people.” Why sketchy?
According to permitting paperwork, the building was a commonplace cluster of six town houses—the sort that would typically attract well-to-do buyers. But inside each town house, the developer was building up to eight tiny units (about 150 to 250 square feet each, roughly the size of a carport) to be rented out separately. The tenants would each have a private bathroom and kitchenette, with a sink and microwave, but they would share one full
kitchen for every eight residents. The rent would be cheap—starting at $500 a month, including all utilities and Wi-Fi—making this essentially affordable housing in the heart of the city. And, remarkably, for affordable
eight bedrooms each), instead of as an apartment building with dozens of units, which would have required a more public process.
Neighbors said they feared that the area wasn’t ready for so many new residents and that the influx of newcomers would usurp on-street parking. But Gossett also seemed concerned by who his new neighbors might be.
The price of an average studio apartment in Seattle last month hit $991, and one-bedrooms soared to $1,230. In this environment, microhousing is in high demand.
housing, it was built without any subsidies from the city’s housing levy. But Gossett was bracing for 46 low-income renters in the space where he’d been expecting six new homeowners instead.
Gossett and other neighbors felt hoodwinked, they told me.
There was no public notification and no review process that allowed neighbors to pose objections. This was due to a loophole in the permits: The city and developers classified the building as six units (with up to
“Anyone who can scrape up enough money to live monthto-month can live there,” he said, worried that low-income interlopers would jeopardize his chances to sell his own house. “I don’t think most people want to live next to a boarding house with itinerant people living in it.”
This style of development is called microhousing, or in the case of this particular project, the developer, Calhoun Properties, has trademarked the name aPodments. Gossett and other neighbors said they should be banned.
At the time, city officials certainly knew about the controversy—they were the ones who tipped me off to it—but after the outcry
quieted that year when the real-estate market plummeted, officials lost interest. Seattle City Council member Richard Conlin, who was the council president in 2009 and recently took the reins of the council’s land-use committee, explains, “Anything that doesn’t seem to be a crying priority sort of gets put off.” But four years later, neighborhood activism has surged to make microhousing its prime target. These activists have persuaded the city council to consider “emergency” legislation that would place a moratorium on building any new microhousing.
Seattle is a leader on the nation’s bell curve of prosperity, ranking in the top five local economies since 2010, according to a Policom Corporation report. Unemployment is less than 6 percent, construction cranes swing across the skyline, and vacancy rates for apartments are at a scarce 3 percent in some central neighborhoods. Affordable housing is virtually nonexistent. In the past five years, the monthly rental rates for studios have increased 15 percent and
one-bedroom apartments have increased 21 percent, according to real-estate economist Matthew Gardner. The price of an average studio apartment in Seattle last month hit $991, and one-bedrooms soared to $1,230, according to the real-estate tracking firm Dupre + Scott.
In this environment, microhousing is in high demand. “Kids are coming out of college, and in not much smaller numbers than the baby boom generation—and are they wanting to live in Issaquah?” Gardner asks. “No, they are not. They are going to want to live downtown. But when you start looking at average unit size, it will be increasingly unaffordable. But they are willing to live in a smaller space if the absolute dollars they pay are less.” Since I visited that aPodment in 2009—the first of its kind built for that purpose—several developers have applied for permits to construct 44 more microhousing projects, according to the city’s Department of Planning and Development. Seven are complete, and 37 others are getting permits or being built. In all, the city forecasts that 2,371 microhousing units are slated to enter the rental market.
NIMBYs. The acronym, which stands for “not in my backyard,” is a term of derision for someone who claims to be fine with whatever is being built, provided that it’s not being built near them
The issues that came up in that two-hour Seattle Community Council Federation meeting included preventing people from cutting down trees on their own private land, celebrating how they defeated a bill to allow corner stores in the dense neighborhood of Capitol Hill, lamenting a city law that would allow certain apartment buildings an additional story of height, expressing concern about taller buildings around light-
The Seattle area is expecting a population hike of 134,000 residents by 2020, according to the Seattle Times Company’s market research.
Many community groups have made it their mission to halt this trend. They see this wave of microhousing as an invasive species. In their eyes, developers stand to get rich by transforming beautiful residential areas— defined by lawns and plentiful parking—into crowded, dilapidated slums of inhumanely small homes with shared kitchens and undesirable tenants.
Several new organizations have sprung up to tackle this issue, none more active than Reasonable Density Seattle. A banner across the top of the group’s website depicts a sardine can packed with people in an otherwise pleasant neighborhood. The organization warns, “Ultra-high-density developments will permanently alter the character of our neighborhoods, leading to a deterioration of the very quality of life that makes Seattle such an attractive place to live.” Other upstart groups that have jumped into the fray include Harvard Avenue Neighbors, Seattle Speaks Up, and Capitol Hill Coalition—in addition to several established community groups that have banded together and passed resolutions asking the city for a moratorium.
Their outreach campaign includes signs staked into yards on Capitol Hill that read: “Attention developers, aPodments and other micro-housing developments are not welcome in this neighborhood. The neighborhood is prepared to fight their construction.” Capitol Hill activist Dennis Saxman, evidently imagining a slippery slope scenario where microhousing becomes the dominant mode of housing in Seattle, fumed at a recent community meeting, “Would you like this to be the only place to live in Seattle for the next 200 years?”
And an action alert e-mail sent last month by local activist Chris Leman warned: “If your neighborhood hasn’t been hit yet by microhousing projects (also called ‘aPodments’), watch out—it won’t be pretty!” He went on, “The units are cramped, lacking living space; kitchens can even be on a separate floor.” Leman asked neighborhood groups to pack a city council hearing on April 18 and ask the council to block all microhousing construction until their demands are met. A month earlier, Leman attended a meeting of the Seattle Community Council Federation, a summit of neighborhood organizations with representatives from numerous groups, where Leman lamented microhousing in Eastlake. “Maybe it should be somewhere, but not on a side street. Not near a park or a school,” Leman said. And then he quickly added, “I’m not a NIMBY at all.”
Neighborhood activists hate being called
rail stations in Roosevelt and Capitol Hill, advocating that neighborhood groups have more influence over future height limits, preventing large houses from being built on small lots, and, finally, unanimously passing a resolution asking the city council for a moratorium on microhousing.
The common thread in those causes: opposing new construction in neighborhoods—in their backyards. When they can’t stop construction, they sometimes try to thwart it with appeals. For example, neighborhood leaders in Mount Baker, Othello, and Beacon Hill all filed attempts in 2010 to block taller buildings near light-rail stations throughout South Seattle, even though taller buildings are essential for density and the place to put them is in transit hubs. Up north, neighbors in the Laurelhurst Community Club—who had been fighting the expansion of Children’s Hospital—also took a stand a few years ago to oppose taller buildings near the Roosevelt light-rail station, even though that station will be miles away.
The way things are shaping up in Seattle, the thrust of neighborhood activism seems to be opposing density.
But consider the timing and context: The Seattle area is expecting a population hike of 134,000 residents by 2020, according to the Seattle Times Company’s market research. Rental prices are soaring, and, as the New York Times reported on April 27, “Weekly wages of low-paid workers have declined,” according to national data from the US Bureau of Labor Statistics. This is to say, neighborhood organizing—a pastime of people who are financially comfortable and have enough leisure time for, well, neighborhood organizing—has come to obsess on stymieing housing, particularly housing that’s affordable for lower-wage workers. While the neighborhood groups may argue that they want everyone to have larger apartments, that’s not a choice many workers in Seattle actually have. They cannot afford larger apartments. Their choice is between living in an aPodment or living 15 miles outside of town.
Accommodating our growing population by shipping workers into the low-density sprawl of the exurbs is not the way a city should operate—and it reeks of inequity and classism. When workers are shunted into areas poorly served by transit, they end up spending a massive chunk of their paycheck (and a massive chunk of time) on commuting. As Catherine Rampell wrote in the New York Times last month, the number of college-educated residents of that city has risen by 73 percent over the past three
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decades, while the number of people without degrees has fallen by 15 percent. All of that reflects a national trend: “Highly paid, college-educated people are increasingly clustering in the college-graduate-dense, high-amenity cities where they get good deals on the stuff they like, while low-skilled people are increasingly flowing out to cheaper places with a worse quality of life.”
Seattle’s median income is $60,665, according to the 2010 census. That average income has been steadily climbing along with property values. As cities like Seattle become wealthier and it costs more to live in them, Rampell explains, the risk is that the income gap will grow wider. Our services and products will increasingly cater to the tastes of the wealthy. Artisanal breads at $5 a loaf, Neapolitan pizzas (delicious but not very filling), and handcrafted beers are becoming the norm. Extrapolated a few decades, our city is on a trajectory to be more expensive to eat in, shop in, and run errands in. Add to that further rent increases that working-class people already can’t afford, and we are pushing young people, workers, students, teachers, artists, musicians, writers, and the elderly out of town. If those people don’t live in town, they don’t frequent the bars or the galleries, they don’t dance at the nightclubs or play on the music stages, and they don’t go to the independent bookstores or retail shops because they live 45 minutes away. The generators of culture will simply be scattered into the suburbs, disconnected. Not only does this dissipate the creative energy, it neuters the cultural incubators and eventually leaves the cultural institutions weaker. And what is a city without art, culture, youth, and regeneration? This is the city that some people are, unfortunately, trying to turn Seattle into.
And what underlies it all is that the city is for the wealthy—coupled with the notion that if you are young and don’t have much money, you are “sketchy.”
So, again, even though aPodments may not be perfect for everyone, they are priced within reach for folks who otherwise couldn’t live in the city. And, again, they offer affordable housing without any help from the city’s $145 million housing levy. That’s crucial because the city will never be able to provide enough subsidized housing with levies, or through zoning incentives, for all the workers who need to live in the city. “Here we have the private market providing housing that is more affordable than the other housing out there,” says Council Member Conlin. He says the “need is too great” for government to keep up with.
shared housing could be risky for those living on the same floor as a meth addict. “They never stop tweaking. They don’t sleep. Right now, I know of a rooming house where there are fights over the shared kitchen.” And in another such building, which she didn’t identify, “guys sleep with a knife under their pillow to stab the other guy.”
Or take Bill Bradburd, a Central District landlord and a leader of the Seattle Neighborhood Coalition, who gave a presentation on the matter before the community federation and explained part of his objections like this: “The concern is that the people coming will not be part of the community—they are not going to stay. If the units were larger, people could stay longer. But there is no room for anything, not even a bicycle. Where will they go? The bicycles will get chained up around signposts and to trees. The seats will be stolen and then there will be dead bicycles all over the place.”
Obviously, the specter of microhousing as incubators for knife-wielding, drugaddicted maniacs running amok in a neighborhood littered with abandoned, broken bicycles is completely nutty. It doesn’t dignify a response.
But those fears are at the far end of the spectrum. In the middle of the spectrum, many of the complaints seem compelling—at least at first blush. I’ve heard the following arguments at least 10 times each: (1) The buildings are firetraps because they have a single egress, (2) they will degenerate into dilapidated slums that must be torn down after a decade because they’re made with substandard materials, (3) the tenants will have criminal backgrounds, (4) by renting these tiny units out from $500 to $800 a month, microhousing will increase the rates for larger, traditional studios and apartments, (5) they are cash cows for developers and rip-offs for residents, (6) they will take over and become the only type of housing in Seattle, and (7) because the city doesn’t require on-site parking, tenants will jam the streets with their cars.
I investigated each of those claims, and here’s what I discovered:
1. Microhousing is constructed to the same fire code as other buildings in Seattle, outfitted with sprinklers and fire alarms, and approved by the fire department.
“There are people really committed to this as a wedge issue,” Conlin says about the microhousing controversy. “I think the wedge has to do with acceptance of the idea of density and transit being the future of Seattle. People don’t want to accept that, and they see it as a threat to their way of life.”
The NIMBYs fear change, any change, and they are taking it out on microhousing. They see an opening, a chink in the armor in permitting loopholes. But are their technical complaints valid?
Some complaints about microhousing are, indeed, reasonable—and others are hysterical. Or, as Council Member Conlin describes it, there are “legitimate complaints,” and then there are people upset that “something is changing in the neighborhood.”
On the far end of that spectrum is Kristina Danilchik, who attended the April 18 city council hearing on whether the city should place a moratorium on microhousing. “A certain percentage of roommates have mental problems,” Danilchik alleged, adding that
2. Likewise, microhousing structures must meet the same building codes as regular apartments. No reason exists why these buildings would deteriorate faster than others. “We are building these buildings to own them—we are not trying to build anything that’s cheap,” explains Kelten Johnson, whose firm, Johnson Carr, is building microhousing in Wallingford and Eastlake. His buildings actually feature triple-pane windows and more insulation than most apartments.
3. Although Carl Winter, head of Reasonable Density Seattle, says that “they don’t do credit checks,” that’s not accurate according to my research. “We do background checks and credit checks on all of our customers,” explains Jim Potter, who is developing six microhousing buildings. I obtained tenant applications for other microhousing units that ask about applicants’ bankruptcy history, evictions, late rental payments, income sources, and bank references.
4. Microhousing is more expensive per square foot than regular apartments—this is indisputable. A policy analysis conducted by the city found that the average one-bedroom apartment rents for about $1.85 per square foot, whereas microunits average $3.24 per square foot (but that figure doesn’t account for the shared kitchen, hallways, or utility areas in microhousing). But do those higher costs per square foot drive up rental rates per square foot of larger apartments? “No, it doesn’t work that way,” says Gardner, the realestate economist. The reason, he explains, is that apartments have
inherently
&
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relationship between size and price—even large, expensive houses can cost less per square foot than small homes. “The smaller the unit, the more you can get per square foot,” he says. “The larger the unit, the less it costs per square foot. To say that these will increase the cost of overall rentals, there is no basis for that argument.”
5. Although the rental rates per square foot are higher, developers aren’t making an unusual profit. Labor rates are up, lumber is more expensive, and equipment costs are higher due to extraordinary demand, Gardner explains. And microhousing buildings are small—many are built on a single or double lot—which limits profit potential.
6. Will this be the only type of rental in Seattle “for the next 200 years,” as activists have claimed? “Absolutely not,” Gardner continues. “It’s asinine to make that statement.” Although there is demand for microhousing— there is demand for all types of housing—it’s not like everyone in Seattle will decide they want to live in it. Gardner explains that the
the planning office. So that problem has been solved.
Still, activists insist that microhousing needs to undergo a design review that will provide “public notice, comment, and appeal opportunities,” according to Leman, the activist who sent out the action alert. But to understand what design review is, it’s essential to understand what design review isn’t Conducted by volunteer boards, design reviews don’t decide a building’s height, rent, parking, tenancy requirements, or fire code.
All the design reviews do is provide input on a building’s aesthetics. That’s it. The review boards make recommendations on subjects including the shape of the windows, the color of the bricks, the placement of awnings, and other superficial elements like those.
The complaints about density, parking, zoning, taxing, etc.? Design review won’t address them a bit.
I can only imagine how angry these neighborhood busybodies are going to be at me for writing this article, although I have an inkling.
demand for any product is “finite.” Furthermore, the 2,300 microunits that will hit the market in the next few years are a fraction of the roughly 6,000 apartments coming on line this year (and a tinier fraction of the total 31,345 units already built in central Seattle).
7. As for parking, these buildings can be constructed only in areas zoned for multifamily dwelling units (aka apartments and condos). And in many of these areas, the city doesn’t require on-site parking. “Our policy approach is to limit the requirement for parking spaces,” explains Council Member Conlin. And as it happens, free parking in front of your house isn’t a constitutional right.
So it turns out that many of the complaints the neighborhood groups are using are frivolous, wrong, or representative of policy that’s been long settled. Concerns about the fire code are perhaps worthwhile—adding a back door seems sensible enough. But that sort of tweak wouldn’t affect microhousing’s neighborhood impact.
Which brings us to two legitimate complaints. These may seem fussy, because they deal with taxes and permits (egad!), but bear with me.
Critics including Winter, Reasonable Density Seattle’s leader, point out that microhousing developers are receiving tax breaks that they don’t deserve. Under the Multifamily Tax Exemption Program, the city grants a full property-tax break for 12 years on new properties with inexpensive units. Microhousing developers have applied for that tax break in a sneaky way: They provided the city’s Office of Housing with the number of sleeping quarters in order to qualify for the tax exemption (the units rented for under $775), but then those same developers provided the number of clusters—the number of kitchens, essentially—for building permits. This sleight of hand avoids a public design review process and environmental review that would be required for a traditional apartment building. As Reasonable Density Seattle puts it, “We believe that developers are playing games with these numbers to skirt the review process.”
The complaint is indisputable—but it’s a small fix. Rick Hooper, head of the city’s housing office, decreed in March that developers must provide the same number of units on applications to both the housing office and
And our neighborhoods are not in peril. Single-family zoning covers a whopping 64.7 percent of the city (areas where you can build only houses), and multifamily zoning covers 11.1 percent of the city (areas where apartments are allowed). That is, only about one-tenth of the entire city allows apartments and microhousing—and that zoning has been on the books for years. So when Reasonable Density Seattle says that microhousing represents a crisis that will “permanently alter the character of our neighborhoods,” they’re dramatically exaggerating.
Tick through the neighborhood groups’ complaints and they don’t add up to a logical argument.
Lacking substantive points, activists strenuously opposed to microhousing come across as simply people who have got theirs— their little piece of the city—and don’t want change in their backyard. To the extent that new residents are welcome, they need to have money, they need room for lots of stuff, and their homes need to be beautified by design reviews.
But there is another implied lie about design reviews. Microhousing, like all new construction, must conform to each neighborhood’s design standards, and the city’s planning office must approve it. What public reviews will do is give activists a chance to obstruct microhousing by quibbling with the appearance. If this is extended to environmental reviews, it will also allow people to appeal—which Leman says is one of his goals, and was the tactic when neighbors opposed taller buildings around light rail.
But those reviews wouldn’t make the tiny apartments go away. The apartments wouldn’t look substantially different, wouldn’t house fewer people, and wouldn’t put fewer cars on the street. None of the neighbors’ technical concerns would be addressed.
If the city pursues design and environmental reviews—which could improve the aesthetics and aren’t inherently flawed processes—they should be administrative reviews. They should be conducted by city staff who notify the public but limit input to letters in writing. They shouldn’t involve neighborhood meetings that are easily sidetracked, shouldn’t require multiple revisions to the architecture, and shouldn’t allow appeals.
If the public is allowed to obstruct these projects—and their arguments thus far have been specious—the results will be predictable: Every time developers must redesign the buildings to satisfy the neighbors, every time the project is delayed for further review, every time a spurious appeal is filed, the more it costs to build that project. And that has one predictable outcome: It will make them more expensive to rent, i.e., fewer people will be able to afford them. In other words, whether deliberate or not, the
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effect of neighborhood advocacy and its input on development projects will make living in these places more expensive and push out workers with less money. That would seem like a terrible mistake—unless pushing out poor people is the actual goal.
The fanaticism of neighborhood groups opposed to microhousing is hard to fathom. I can only imagine how angry these neighborhood busybodies are going to be at me for writing this article, although I have an inkling. I’ve taken the brunt of their anger by just trying to collect the facts for this piece.
In March, I began looking into the hubbub over a 65-unit apartment building proposed by Plymouth Housing near Third Avenue and Virginia Street. The nonprofit builds homes for people who are transitioning off the streets and into stable residences. The proposed seven-story structure doesn’t qualify as microhousing, but it is full of small apartments, and it has provoked furious opposition from neighbors.
One
demurred, I asked if he was “the man I spoke to on the phone last week, and is your wife Lori Nikfard, because I’m wondering…” He cut me off. “Why do you want to know about my wife?” he asked.
I began to explain that I was a reporter and that I didn’t want to know about his wife, I was merely trying to figure out if he was Jack Nikfard, the same person I spoke to last week. He cut me off and began yelling.
The gist of his yelling was that I should leave and he was going to call the cops, so I proceeded toward the door.
But he began to call the police anyhow, so I got out my business card to verify that I was, indeed, a reporter, adding that I was only trying to make sure I was talking to the right person. But I continued walking out, and as I
microhousing opponent
said, “I’ve never been in one, but I don’t know why anyone would want to live in one.”
Evidence of the opposition came in the form of two large, glossy mailers sent to nearby residents under the auspices of something called the Downtown Seattle Neighbors Alliance, which encouraged people to protest this building. In a series of questions that read more like accusations, the mailers argued that the building could be a magnet for criminals. One of the mailers suggested the building would be a “dangerous and/or noxious” presence and that it “has the potential for causing major community or health impacts.” The mailers even said that the residents will be homeless people who have failed in previous housing, a charge Plymouth called “misleading” because the building will be designated solely for residents who “have demonstrated a long-term track record of stable and successful tenancy with Plymouth.”
So who is the Downtown Seattle Neighbors Alliance—and who do they represent?
That’s what I wanted to know—because the alliance has no online presence or phone number, and I’d never heard of it before. As I reported at the time on Slog, The Stranger’s blog, some calls led me to Swifty Printing, located immediately next door to the proposed construction site. “The owners of the adjacent building own a printing company and are responsible for the mailing,” Bryan Stevens, spokesman for the city’s Department of Planning and Development, told me. One of Swifty Printing’s owners identified himself at a design review meeting as a member of the Downtown Seattle Neighbors Alliance, so naturally I called Swifty Printing to ask if they were involved in the group and to confirm they had printed the flyer. Jack Nikfard answered the phone, said he was a partner in the company, and said the business was a member of the Downtown Seattle Neighbors Alliance, but then he refused to answer any more questions. He said if I had questions, I had to e-mail Lori at the e-mail address printed on the flyers.
I e-mailed Lori—as others have before me—but I never heard back. But the name Lori Nikfard comes up in King County property records as sharing property on Lake Sammamish with George and Jack Nikfard. Still, I didn’t know for certain that these were the people printing the flyers, nor did I know who else was involved, nor what their beef was with the new neighbors.
So I ventured down to Swifty one day to ask.
When I arrived, I immediately asked the man behind the counter if he was Mr. Nikfard, and he said he was. “Are you George or Jack Nikfard?” I asked. When he
did, something crazy happened: Another man came out from behind the counter, grabbed my arm, and pushed me away from the door, into a corner of the store, so I couldn’t leave.
“You need to stay here,” Nikfard barked. On the phone with police, he said his name was George and he accused me of “harassing” him. So, literally backed into a corner, I stayed put until the police arrived. “Stay right here,” he told me again.
I never resisted—I had only asked a few preliminary questions and wasn’t breaking any laws—so I was happy to stay put to explain myself to the cops.
Officer Michael Virgilio arrived after a few minutes.
“I want to make harassment charges because he has no business in here,” Nikfard said. He said a video camera in the room had recorded the entire incident.
When it was my turn to speak, I explained that I was trying to leave—this was undisputed—and that if, indeed, that camera caught it all on tape, I’d be happy to enter the video as a court record that showed me walking in, asking a couple questions, and then trying to exit the shop.
“Asking questions is not harassment,” Officer Virgilio told Nikfard, adding, “It doesn’t fit harassment charges because you asked him to leave and he was trying to leave.”
It was such a bizarre experience that I felt obligated to turn the tables: I asked the officer if Swifty Printing employees had possibly assaulted me, given that I was trying to leave and they grabbed me, pushed me, and detained me against my will. Wasn’t I the one who could arguably be pressing charges?
Yes, Officer Virgilio confirmed.
I declined to file a police report—the incident was already such a stupid waste of police resources—but the irony was too much to bear: Downtown Seattle Neighbors Association claimed in mailers that the homeless people outside were the ones breaking the law, but when I approached the only people I could find who claimed to be part of the association, they were the ones who appeared to break the law.
And then the best part of all happened. At least in terms of confirming that Swifty Printing had produced the mailers. When Officer Virgilio asked about the mailer in question, one of the employees went behind the counter and returned with a crisp, unmailed copy of it.
fter a recent community meeting about microhousing in Eastlake, where a sign stapled to a
pole warns that these undesirable buildings “are permanent and will last a long time,” I interviewed David Brazeau, who owns an apartment building adjacent to one of the controversial pending construction projects. Brazeau fears his “property value is going to be diminished,” he told me.
“I view that the tenancy is going to be transient,” Brazeau said. “Maybe the screening of people won’t be as thorough as regular apartments. I’m not going to say it is a magnet for criminal activity, but it is easy come, easy go.” Brazeau also admitted, “I’ve never been in one, but I don’t know why anyone would want to live in one.”
So I went to find out.
One weekday in Wallingford, I visited a microhousing building offering tours for potential tenants. One of the people getting a tour was Mary Richardson, a claims representative for the Washington State Department of Transportation. She told me she’s been sharing a house with a friend who’s moving out, and was now looking for an apartment she could afford on her own. “In the situation I’m in right now, I can’t be too choosy,” she explained.
Richardson was looking at units in the building, where rents range from about $600 to $1,200 and include all utilities and Wi-Fi. She particularly liked one that cost $800 a month. That beat everything Richardson had seen—the least expensive apartments she’s found were $1,000 or more, and adding utilities and internet, they would exceed $1,200.
“I can’t afford that on what I make, because then I won’t have any money left over to live,” she said. “This is all I could find in my price range.” Finding a traditional apartment she could afford would mean living far outside of Seattle, and as she put it, “I am not moving to Everett.”
Walking through the newly finished units, with compact but neatly designed bathrooms, deep steel sinks in each unit’s kitchenette, and finished concrete floors, Richardson said, “I think they are cool.” One of her favorite units would rent for $800, and while she acknowledged it’s “a little small,” it also had an unobstructed southern-exposure view of the downtown skyline and Mount Rainier.
Is Richardson transient and sketchy? “No, I’m not that person,” she said, laughing. “Even if you are that person, you look at this building and know you don’t fit in here.” Richardson said she’d have her daughter over to visit, and that if she moves in, “I will live here for at least five years.”
Richardson is like other microhousing tenants I’ve heard from. Judy Green, 67, who lives in an $850 a month microhousing unit in the University District, recently testified before the city council that she opposes a moratorium. “I want you to consider that there are people like me who are happy in a place like this,” she said. “My unit is lovely, and the building is attractive. I can walk to stores and parks, and I can afford to live there.”
I also caught up with a resident of an aPodment building on First Hill, Alex Tursi, a 29-year-old graphic designer who’s a contract employee with Microsoft. He acknowledged it was small space, but “the sacrifice of the space is an equal trade-off to have my own spot,” he said. His last home, with comparable rents in the neighborhood, was in a house “with people I found on Craigslist, and I lived with strangers, and one of them was just a nut.” So Tursi moved out.
The shared kitchen in his aPodment is clean, he said, and his kitchenmates are young professionals, including a couple Amazon employees. “There’s nothing remotely sketchy about any of this.”
While I was talking to Richardson out in Wallingford, I asked her what she thought of the uproar, what she thought of the idea that
tenants like her posed some sort of threat, what she thought about the conviction that these units were somehow an example of substandard living. “There are some people who don’t like change,” she said. “Anybody who has said that has not been here to see it.”
You know who’s conspicuously missing from the war on microhousing?
The people who already live near microhousing. So I returned to that aPodment building near 23rd Avenue and John Street, the place where I met Alan Gossett, the first aPodment building built in that style, to ask the neighbors: Was it, in fact, a magnet for sketchy people?
“It hasn’t turned out that way,” said Julia Dallas, who lives across the alley from the building. Dallas is the director of human resources at the clothing manufacturer Filson. “If it was run-down, that would be one thing, but they have done a good job keeping it up,” she said. “It seems like a lot of students, young professionals. You don’t see sketchy people.”
That’s the same story I heard from Adam Gross, owner of a town house right behind the aPodments. Gross is a vendor manager of video games for a major local tech company, and a new father. “As you can see just looking at it, it’s not dilapidated,” he said. “I have never seen anyone you would describe as homeless or transient there, and it’s not sketchy—unless you consider mountain bikes sketchy.”
I spoke to other neighbors, too, and they all acknowledged parking could be tight nearby and the building’s residents sometimes brought heavy foot traffic. But as Dallas put it, “It’s not like they are loud, and they haven’t been messy.” King County records show that property values in the area, including the house that Gossett owned, continued to rise despite the aPodments.
Still, neighborhood activists are calling for emergency legislation to stop construction of new microhousing—to stop this ostensible scourge—and they want regulations that gum up the works and don’t substantially change the buildings, just make them more expensive to live in. Council Member Tom Rasmussen has been eager to serve as their agent to pass these laws, to do something. But what’s so bad about new neighbors?
Renee Staton, a former leader of the Pinehurst Community Council, says she used to fight new construction, too, particularly town houses.
But she’s had a change of heart.
“In Pinehurst, we had a huge number of these buildings being built. I was really concerned, and it felt like the character of the neighborhood would change. I struggled with it. I will be honest, I was very upset about these being built in my neighborhood. I personally fought against trying to build town houses. But in holding meetings, some of the people who lived in the town houses showed up, and they were wonderful people. And they asked me why I didn’t like the people who live in the town houses, because that’s them. And all of us at that meeting had to think really hard about what it means to be a community. That moment really changed my perspective.”
Years later, Staton admits that she had been wrong. She appreciates the newcomers in Pinehurst, because their presence means “there are more wonderful people in my neighborhood,” she says. “More people are in the parks. More people are at the grocery store. More people are in the community meetings.”
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BY MELODY DATZ
Acyclist almost hits a parked car straining his neck to watch Ezra Dickinson tour jeté down Stewart Street. Dickinson is not tall, but his long arms and high balletic leaps and jumps cut through the apathetic throng of people hanging around outside of the Greyhound bus station. The loiterers perk up and watch—interested or confused or amused or all of the above. Whether they want to or not, they’ve become part of Dickinson’s stage.
An audience of 20 or so people is across the street, wearing headphones. Pedestrians pass through the clump of audience members, some of them glancing over to see what we are looking at, but most just padding on with a “meh, whatever” expression on their tired, post-workday faces. Meanwhile, a guy in a loud, violent metal shirt starts to pop and lock next to Dickinson, but sees that he’s outmatched and goes back to his cigarette. It’s opening night of this performance, and there’s a TV camera in our group, recording parts of it. As Dickinson crosses the street from the bus station to the plaza in front of the US Courthouse, some passersby cross with him, immortalized at that moment as
part of a living work of art. I hope they think it’s cool. It’s pretty fucking cool.
was homeless for a time, and is now housed at some unknown state hospital. She does not permit visits, not even from her son. Through Mother, Dickinson explores that lost connection, but he does so without selfpity or any sort of whine. Above all, this is a piece about a love so big and forgiving and pure that the art through which the story is told cannot help but be genuine. Through dance, film, poetry, monologue, improvisation, and puppetry, Dickinson communicates without being the least bit saccharine, a feat I attribute to a pristine, natural technical ability to move his body, as well as equally matched qualities of spirit and intellect.
Mother is ongoing, running every evening at 7 p.m. until May 19—and the run will go longer if there’s a demand. No two shows will be the same. That’s the beauty of outdoor performance; as an artist, you have no control save your choreography, your production plans, and your knowledge of the surfaces and buildings that surround you. Every car that passes by will be new; every pedestrian will have an unpredictable reaction. One of the vehicles that pass Dickinson in an alley on opening night is a truck that looks like it’s just been in an accident.
Every pedestrian has an unpredictable reaction.
As soon as Dickinson is moving in and out of the trees in front of the courthouse, I realize we’ve amassed a crowd. Now even people who don’t have headphones are trying to follow along. The monologue streaming through our headphones in between pumping music matches the poetic phrases written on a thick white ribbon that Dickinson, in rolled-up trousers and a thick woolen plaid shirt, slowly pulls out from inside his clothing, phrases like “MY MOTHER HAS WET THE BED SHE WAS PUT IN.” He weaves the ribbon, marked with large black block letters, among a cluster of soft white birch trees in front of the courthouse. Cars along Seventh Avenue pause for long moments even after the lights turn green, eyes fixated on Dickinson’s slight figure. When Dickinson at last lets go of the end of the ribbon, the poem slackens, becoming part of the breeze-blown landscape and fading into the late afternoon background of
commuters, roaring buses, and street debris. Dickinson set this performance piece, Mother for you I made this, on the very streets of downtown Seattle where his mother, for a brief time, made her home—“Just trying to survive among human destruction.”
To call this piece “performance art” seems to do it a disservice, as that only brings to mind the most disingenuous kind of Tilda-Swintonsleeping-in-a-clear-box-at-MoMA art. But Dickinson is a bona fide artist, incredibly diverse in his talents but especially gifted as a dancer and a street artist. He’s also a theater artist, a musician, and a poet. He makes films and sculpture. He’s equally at home in a concert hall and in a dusty parking garage.
Produced as part of Velocity Dance Center’s Made in Seattle series, Mother for you I made this is a delicately constructed work of art about Dickinson’s childhood, his mother, and, seemingly, the roles they played in his development as an artist and as a man. As he tells it, the roles of parent and child in his upbringing were not as clearly defined as we expect them to be: a mother who is always around to protect us, to make sense of the absurd and frightening, to tell us that we are loved and valued, to let us play and be kids. Dickinson’s mother is mentally ill,
The piece ends in a small, bricked-in park off of Seventh Avenue. Dickinson descends into the garden wearing a brilliantly blue dinosaur mask, crouching and pawing at the air with his arms like a T. rex. Through the mouth hole in the mask, I can see Dickinson’s face, eyes almost shut as he dances close around us, in between us, loving and thanking us and beseeching us to pay attention. Pay attention to those living in the periphery, in alleys, in hidden gardens, in front of bus stations. Pay attention to the help children so desperately need but so rarely get. “I remember carrying your limp body,” Dickinson says through the recording, holding out his hands before removing the dinosaur mask and settling down to sleep under his old baby blanket under a bare tree.
“Where is your mother?”
That was one question a woman asked Dickinson after the closing of his hour-long performance, a question I thought Dickinson had just finishing answering. Dickinson’s mom had been right there—on the downtown streets of a crazy warm May afternoon, in the alleys running through overpriced parking garages and luxury condominiums, under the well-watered birch groves in front of the courthouse. She is Dickinson, she is the audience, she is the passerby watching the audience watch Dickinson. She is art and dance and beauty and pain and ugliness and failure and success. She is our neighbor. She is us.
Mother for you I made this runs daily through May 19. For info and tickets, go to velocitydancecenter.org/ezra-dickinson.
Dec
May 28 - June 2 | Paramount | $23.75 - $68.75 Fela!
June 10 - June 24 | Paramount | $25.50
Trader Joe’s Silent Movie Mondays – International
July 13 | Paramount | $15.50
DANCE This
August 20 - 25 | Paramount | $28.75 - $78.75
Sister Act
Sept 27 | Moore | $34.50
Mavis Staples
Oct 3 | Paramount | $37 - $61
Martin Short
Oct 4 | Neptune | $26
Jon Batiste and Stay Human
Oct 4 - 6| Moore | $32.50 - $48.50
John Malkovich in The Infernal Comedy: Confessions of a Serial Killer
Oct 9 - 13 | Paramount | $28.75 - $78.75
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Wizard of Oz
Oct 11 - 26 | Moore | $26.50 - $30.50
Carrie: The Musical
Oct 24 - 27 | On the Boards | $22
Gregory Maqoma/Vuyani Dance Theatre
Oct 30 - Nov 3 | Moore | $20.50 - $48.50
Peter and the Starcatcher
Nov 4 | Moore | $32.50 - $52.50
Isabella Rossellini – Green Porno
Nov 8 | Moore | $8.50
Global Dance Party
Nov 9 | Moore | $19.50
Seattle Rock Orchestra performs Pink Floyd
Nov 12 -17 | Paramount | $28.75 - $78.75
Priscilla Queen of the Desert
Nov 16 | Neptune | $37
Kronos Quartet with special guest
Degenerate Art Ensemble
Nov 24 | Paramount | $35 - $80
Jan 10 - 26 | Moore | $26.50 - $30.50
Jerry Springer: The Opera
Feb 14 - 16 | Paramount | $25 - $61
Mark Morris Dance Group
March
Mannheim Steamroller Christmas
Dec 5 | Neptune | $31.50 - $100.50
A John Waters Christmas
April
PLASTICS AT THE BURKE “PLASTICS UNWRAPPED” THROUGH MAY 27, 2013
Bob’s Burgers is the best show on television right now, and tonight we get to see the magic happen live, right in front of our faces! The voice actors from the animated series—H. Jon Benjamin, Eugene Mirman, Kristen Schaal, Dan Mintz, and John Roberts—will read bits from scripts, answer audience questions, and no doubt be absolutely hilarious, while saying things like “If boys had uteruses, they’d be called duderuses” and “When I die, I want you to cremate me and throw my ashes in Tom Selleck’s face.” Here’s hoping Mirman brings the fartnoise-making megaphone. (Neptune Theater, 1303 NE 45th St, stgpresents.org, $26.50 adv/$29 DOS, 8 pm, all ages, also May 9) MEGAN SELING
FILM/PERFORMANCE Translations is the Seattle Transgender Film Festival, and Gender Failure is the live multimedia extravaganza that’s been chosen to open the 2013 Translations. Created and performed by celebrated Canadian trans artists Ivan Coyote and Rae Spoon, and featuring video and animation from esteemed Seattle artist Clyde Petersen, Gender Failure explores its makers’ failures at fitting into the gender binary through words, music, and projected visuals. (The recent performance of Gender Failure at the London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival was a sellout, so get your tickets quick.) (Harvard Exit, 807 E Roy St, translations .strangertickets.com, 7:15 pm, $16) DAVID SCHMADER
Formed in 1965 by Beatles-influenced teenage brothers Arnaldo and Sergio Dias Baptista and Rita Lee, Brazil’s wonderfully psychedelic Os Mutantes made mind-altering rock music in the avant-garde Tropicália arts movement, before fading away the following decade (heartbreak! Drugs! Politics!). By the 1990s, everyone from Kurt Cobain to David Byrne was hypnotized by the surreal beauty of their music, made even more intriguing with bizarre costumes and homemade instruments. A version of the band reunited in 2006, and the players have revolved since, but for now, Sergio Dias remains the freaky backbone of the everwitchy South American tropicalistas. (Triple Door, 216 Union St, tripledoor.net, 7:30 pm, $28–$35, all ages) EMILY NOKES
With Something in the Air, Olivier Assayas, the director of Carlos, Irma Vep, and Boarding Gate, revisits the twilight of the global social revolution that had the center of its spirit in the year 1968. The revolutionaries are French, urban, young, beautiful, dedicated, and intelligent. During the day, they listen to lectures about Pascal and Marx, and at night, they destroy private property with their anarchy signs, propaganda posters, and bombs. We know how all of this enthusiasm and revolutionary energy will end, we know that this rebellion is more youthful than political, but the film’s direction, art direction, wardrobe, cinematography, and performances never lose your interest for one moment. (Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave, nwfilm forum.org, 7 and 9:30 pm, $10, through May 16) CHARLES MUDEDE
You guys, do you know how absurdly delicious pierogi are? If I could marry one of these li’l dumplings (most lovable when filled with potato, sauerkraut, or plum and fried in butter, beer, and onions), I would. This might be because I once lived in a Northern Michigan town where almost 100 percent of the last names in the phone book end with a “ski.” Or maybe it’s because pierogi are just insanely delicious, and even have their own patron saint (“Swiety Jacek z pierogami!”). This eighth annual all-you-can-eat celebration at Dom Polski, the Polish Home Association, includes a beer garden, music by Polonez and Young Polanie, and a pierogi cooking workshop. Na zdrowie! (Dom Polski, 1714 18th Ave, polishhome.org, 11:30 am–4 pm, $16/$8 kids/under 11 free) KELLY O
Imagine sly, wry songwriting legend Lee Hazlewood reincarnated as a long-haired, laid-back rocker from Philadelphia, and you’re close to grasping the appeal of Kurt Vile. Forger of mellow, pretty melodies and deadpan utterer of observant lyrics, Vile writes casually sublime songs that slouch between folky and psychedelic. His excellent new album, Wakin on a Pretty Daze, is rock as beta-blocker, creating the gorgeous illusion that you have all the time in the world to chill. (Neumos, 925 E Pike St, neumos.com, 8 pm, $16 adv, 21+) DAVE SEGAL
For years, Michael Pollan has been explaining why the food we choose to eat is so bad for us. Finally, in his new book, Cooked, he demonstrates what people can do right Cooked is made up of Pollan’s attempts to cook using four different methods: fire (whole barbecued pig), water (stewing and braising), air (fresh-baked bread), and earth (pickled vegetables and beer). It’s a cheerful, informative hike through the history of food, and rather than the anti-corn-syrup lecturing of his earlier books, Pollan instead teaches by example, making Cooked maybe his most successful book yet. (Benaroya Hall, 200 University St, seattlesymphony.org/benaroya, 8 pm, $24–$125) PAUL CONSTANT
White boxes mounted on the walls—they have slices of wood from a zillion-year-old tree, painted white, on their fronts—turn out to be drawers. Pull their handles and you open up a world of color: rainbow graphs of DNA, paintings, drawings, skins, an old photograph of a sedated tiger strapped to a lab table, the muzzle of an actual rifle pointed at your face. Whitewashed is Joseph Gregory Rossano’s love letter to animals that are already gone or going extinct, like tigers and basking sharks and polar bears. Accompanying each piece is an essay written by a scientist and a dollop of fierce affection. (CoCA Georgetown at Seattle Design Center, 5701 Sixth Ave S, Ste 258, cocaseattle.org, 9 am–5 pm, free, through July 19) JEN GRAVES
San Quentin…below Chris Burden…27 Disney World, Burning Man, and Occupy Wall Street…28
BY SARAH GALVIN
Iwant so much to go on a bike ride with Kay Ryan. We’d have pizza and then take my favorite route through the Arboretum, slalom between families of ducks and guys cruising in the bushes, and ride out to the middle of that abandoned tract of freeway people call the Bridge to Nowhere. We’d lean our bikes (I’ve read she favors a mountain bike) by the spot where swimmers leap 30 feet into root-beer-colored water, where someone spray-painted “jump, pussy” on the cement in pink letters. I’d open a bottle of whiskey and start our conversation with a few questions about bikes.
Kay Ryan
Thurs May 16, Kane Hall, Room 130, UW Campus, 8 pm, free
It was on a cross-country bike ride that Kay Ryan, then 30 years old, realized she was destined to be a writer. She had recently begun a PhD in literary criticism at UC Irvine, but as she once said in an interview, “I couldn’t bear the idea of being a doctor of something I couldn’t fix.” On this cross-country ride, she simply asked herself whether she liked writing poetry, and the answer was yes. When she returned home, she began to write, drawing inspiration, at first, from Ripley’s Believe It or Not! She
catch on a bike than on foot.
Though Ryan began writing regularly after that fateful bike trip (several hours, nearly every morning, while in bed, according to my research—she claims to have worn out several pairs of pajamas), she didn’t publish until years and piles of poems later. When she finally did, it was largely due to the help of her wife, Carol Adair. They met in 1977, in the snack bar at San Quentin State Prison, where Ryan was teaching English at the time.
To someone like me, less reluctant to show girlfriends hideous middle-school yearbook photos than unfinished poems, Ryan and Adair’s relationship seems impossibly romantic. Adair was Ryan’s first editor and the first person to see each of her poems. Adair helped Ryan organize her early poems and send them out to literary journals. It was Adair who convinced Ryan to take the position as poet laureate in 2008, and Adair’s death from cancer in 2009 motivated Ryan to remain in the position another year. All of Ryan’s books are dedicated to Adair. When the sun was going down on the ruined freeway, and we’d had enough whiskey and the chance to share a few stories, I might have the courage to ask her what it feels like to write a poem without Carol around.
I cried on the BoltBus when I read that poem.
• Roq La Rue Gallery was hot and hopping at its new Pioneer Square location last Thursday, with Stacey Rozich’s patterny, humanish creatures crawling all over the walls. Roq used to be in Belltown, which has some seriously bad juju at this point. “Belltown—I don’t even know what to say about that place,” one gallerygoer said. “That’s a place that needs a togetherness program.” Also new on the gallery scene: James Harris in the former Howard House space on Second Avenue, opening Wednesday, May 8, with big, bright photographs of sunsets projected on shattered mirrors by Bing Wright, and bright, messy portraits and plaster heads by Rachelle Rojany
“Belltown—I don’t even know what to say about that place.”
was named United States poet laureate in 2008, and next week, on May 16, will deliver the 50th annual Theodore Roethke Memorial Poetry Reading at the University of Washington, in the Roethke Auditorium.
I like bikes that resemble Ryan’s poems— compact, streamlined, with an appearance of mechanical simplicity that belies their power. She often makes seemingly obvious or straightforward statements that, in the context of the poems, become complex. Similarly, she can use the same line, or nearly the same line, twice in a poem in such a way that they mean completely different things each time.
For instance, in her poem “Lime Light,” the meaning of “lime light,” at first synonymous with “spotlight,” is complicated by the introduction of an actual bowl of limes. If this sounds too simple to work, consider the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or the gin and tonic, and then of course read the poem.
As soon I’m on a bike, my mind is blank. I wonder if she gave herself to poetry in a similar blankness, or if her mind worked as frenetically as her body the entire time. I’m betting on meditative blankness, since it sounds to me like for her poetry was never really a choice. She said in one interview that she had a dream when she was about 10 years old that she chased a fluttering piece of paper down the street because it had the perfect poem on it. Once a person catches a glimpse of that piece of paper, I don’t think they ever stop chasing it. Because I’d be nervous, I’d probably ask something stupid, like whether she thought the poem would be easier to
I read her most recent book, The Best of It, on a spring bus ride to Oregon, when the glowing woods and highway medians reminded me of Robert Frost’s line “Nature’s first green is gold.” The book is a collection of new poems and selected poems from her older books Flamingo Watching, Elephant Rocks, Say Uncle, and The Niagara River In a new poem, “Polish and Balm,” she writes that no unguent can treat “the chap of abandonment,” and ends: “Who knew/the polish/ and balm in/a person’s/simple passage/among her things./We knew she/loved them/but not what/love means.” I cried on the BoltBus, in front of a scabby, halfasleep teenager and a woman unintentionally blasting Abba from her laptop, when I read that poem.
I thought of Ovid propositioning girls by offering to immortalize them with poetry, which is hilarious because though even the greatest poem won’t last forever, he still managed to preserve his overtures for more than 3,000 years. When a relationship ends, no matter how catastrophically, it feels better if a decent poem has come out of it. A poem can’t make anything last forever, but an experience can exist, crystalline, free of the delicate human who preserved it, for a length of time that comfortingly surpasses the human life span. I suppose “Polish and Balm” made me cry because in the wake of the treasure that was that 30-year relationship, a success by anyone’s standards, the poem was absolutely the best anyone could do.
It’s especially poignant in a collection of poems having to do with accretion, natural cycles, and the passage of time. Animals eat each other, artists apply layers of paint and lacquer, landscapes change shape, but Ryan maintains a wry humor, as in her poem
• Some ballet-world rumormongers are speculating that Peter Martins, ballet master in chief at the New York City Ballet, will leave his post in the next few years. You know who’d fit that job perfectly? Peter Boal, current director of Pacific Northwest Ballet. Think about it: He grew up in NYCB, then came to Seattle, where he proved he could steer a large dance institution. We’d miss him sorely if he left, but it would make perfect sense for him to return to his roots for the third act of his career.
• Certain artists are only talking about certain upcoming events if certain critics sign a nondisclosure agreement. And that’s all we can say about that.
• Photographic Center Northwest has a new executive director—somebody who combines the cachet of Aperture, the New York photo foundation where she worked for 15 years, with the home fries of Puyallup, where she grew up: Michelle Dunn Marsh. She has degrees from Bard College and Pace University, she teaches at the New School, she worked for Chronicle Books, and she just founded an innovative—partly crowdsourced, partly curated—art-book publishing company called Minor Matters. She’ll start at the Photo Center on August 5, with an emphasis on drawing together the art form and the region. Did you know, for instance, that MoMA and Portland Art Museum were the first two American museums to begin collecting photography back in the 1940s?
• On May 2, Seattle playwright and performer Chad Goller-Sojourner posted a Facebook update that read: “I’m trying to imagine a situation where a group of Black Seattleites donned masks, took to the streets and hurled rocks, bottles, spit, hammers, insults, flares, chunks of concrete, newspaper bins, construction barriers, trash cans and metal rods at the police.— I’m trying to imagine a situation where a group of Black Seattleites did all this, along the way breaking vehicle and store front windows, injuring eight police officers, and a woman just trying to get home.—I’m trying to imagine a situation where the next day, the headlines screamed 17 PEOPLE ARRESTED ON MISDEMEANOR CHARGES.— And yet, try as I might —I can’t.”
“Masterworks of Ming,” one of my favorites from Flamingo Watching: Ming, Ming such a lovely thing blue and white bowls and basins glow in museum light they would be lovely filled with rice or water so nice adjunct to dinner or washing a daughter a small daughter of course since it’s a small basin
first you would put one then the other end in
Poems like this are the reason I would take Kay Ryan to an unused piece of freeway, which nature is slowly devouring, rather than some manicured strip of park. She would
certainly provide good conversation—I mean, she is a MacArthur genius and a Guggenheim Fellow, and having taught remedial English at a Marin County community college for 30 years, she has earned these distinctions under different circumstances than most. But I think—I hope—a woman who wrote a poem about dunking a baby in a Ming bowl would want to go somewhere both scenic and out of view of the police.
We would probably end up leaping off the overpass to swim in the Arboretum. I like that I don’t know which of us would be the one to suggest it. She’d certainly have a good book in her backpack, and she might even have bottle rockets.
BY JEN GRAVES
When the exhibition 557,087 opened in 1969, John Voorhees, the Seattle Times reviewer, railed against it as “artistic pollution, every bit as annoying and dangerous as that in the air.” Voorhees wrote of its curator, “It’s hard to think of such a charming slip of a girl as Lucy Lippard as being a revolutionary.” Voorhees was, perhaps, a charming slip of a critic.
Today, 557,087 looks like nothing much, just a few black-and-white photographs, a glass case containing rows of index cards with typing and handwriting on them, and a wall
ROBERT SMITHSON WANTED PICTURES OF SEATTLE This is the index card Smithson contributed to 557,087. The late artist is best known for his often-photographed land-artwork Spiral Jetty
label. This may be the first time that SAM has memorialized one of its previous exhibitions by treating it as a work of art in its own right.
The exhibition in question was extraordinary, and is more so with time. This is the first time it’s appearing in SAM’s galleries since it happened, September 5 to October 5, 1969. It was called 557,087 and was created by New York–based writer and curator Lippard, about whom two books have been released in the last year. One, published by Afterall Books, focuses on Lippard’s “numbers exhibitions,” each taking the population of its host city as its title. The very first of those was Seattle’s 557,087 (1960 US Census figure). The concept traveled to Vancouver, Buenos Aires, and Valencia (California), before touring the US and going to London.
557,087 did not leave behind paintings and sculptures—it left behind a “catalog” of these four-by-six-inch index cards filled out by artists whose names are now the canon from this period. Lippard invited more than 60 artists to submit their proposals on the cards. Volunteers executed most of them. Only a few pieces materialized in the conventional sense—including works by the late Eva Hesse and artist/writer John Perrault—in SAM’s contemporary-art “Pavilion,” a hall near the former amusement park at Seattle Center (where Chihuly has a showplace now). The rest of the art was scattered about the city or confined to the cards. It included: grease marks five feet long on a floor, one for each letter of the name of the man who engineered the regrade of downtown Seattle (artist: Rafael Ferrer). Paintings of a local landscape, Lake Washington, by local artists (artist: Bruce McLean of Scotland). A provocation: the story of a group of art students led by their professor to chew up, spit out, and ferment a copy of Clement Greenberg’s modernist bible, Art and Culture, borrowed from their school’s library, leading to the firing of this artist/professor (John Latham). Instructions to remove a chunk of earth 15 feet deep and 100 feet in diameter, making a subtraction from the world rather than adding a new object because “Art is only memory anyway” (artist: Michael Heizer).
“When computers provide artificial memories, our ‘private collections’ will be unlimited, and the mind will be freer to pursue its own expanding awareness,” Lippard wrote in her prescient essay for 557,087, on display on the index cards at SAM. Earlier in the decade, Ernst Gombrich had written, “All art originates in the human mind, in our reaction to the world rather than in the visible world in itself,” which Lippard quoted, and which sets the stage for the era of dematerialization, minimalism, and conceptualism.
All people fight when they hear a statement that begins, “All art.” From the audience, the Times reported a mixed response, one still perfectly imaginable today. “If anybody else smeared some tar on the floor, they wouldn’t
get away with it,” an unnamed man grunted, while a 26-year-old named Rocky Wilson was quoted to have said, “It puts art on another level, a more real level instead of just pictures hanging on the wall over a mantel.” This debate is never-ending.
Some of the ideas and pieces in 557,087 were very good, some were tedious, and some were goofy, but overall, 557,087 was exceptionally of-the-moment and self-aware. Its concept was its largest work, in the same sense that a museum’s building can be considered the largest work in its collection. 557,087 presaged what would become forefront cultural concerns of scale and geography, and a rising fascination with the origins of things, from art to people to food. Lippard described McLean’s piece featuring local painters’ landscapes as “a ‘regional art’ made by foreigners through remote control,” raising associations with colonialism, corporate-style reach, and surveillance, all pressing issues still today.
For Seattle’s historically redlined Central District—bankers literally drew red lines around an area and refused to give loans to the African Americans forced to live there—John Baldessari and George Nicolaidis adapted a piece they’d done in San Diego. Titled Boundary, it consisted of black and silver labels attached to telephone poles and street signs demarcating the CD. Seattle had only just voted to end racist housing discrimination in 1968.
Robert Morris’s proposal was related to violence, Vietnam, and the way legends blow up. He ordered a shotgun blast at a gallery wall, using “heavy shot in the shells,” then a photograph of the wound blown up to an 8-by-10-inch photograph. The exhibition’s next venue would hang the photograph, shoot that, and make a larger blowup, enlargements coming at every venue. It makes me think of chauvinism, Niki de Saint Phalle’s “shooting paintings” of the early 1960s (she wore a catsuit), Chris Burden’s later piece (1971) in which he was shot in the arm as performance, and arena rock. Should you spend a little time at 557,087, either dismissing this charming slip of an exhibition or turning over the art that’s originating in your mind, maybe I could direct you to an additional pleasant surprise. 557,087 is embedded in an exhibition of SAM’s permanent collection, a temporary minimalism-through-color-field-painting display full of virtues and curiosities, organized carefully like a book waiting to be read closely. It begins with these lightly described and sketched works, and it culminates in two giant, hot Frank Stellas from the 1960s. Right now, SAM is pushing exhibitions of old European paintings and a supposedly super-hot video display on the museum’s facade, which acts more as a movie for the wealthy trustees living in the luxury apartments at the Four Seasons building across the street. Meanwhile, SAM’s collection is rarely in this fine
a form, and it hardly matters whether the museum thinks that will sell tickets.
BY KIM FU
Artistic audacity should never be punished. Better to aim high and fail spectacularly than shoot for mediocrity and succeed. Reviews and word of mouth had led me to believe that Cafe Nordo productions are made in this spirit—bizarre dinner/theater hybrids that inspire love, hate, and bewilderment. Sadly, their latest show is dinner theater as we already know it: half-baked on both fronts, without meaningful integration of the two.
SMOKED! is marketed as an homage to the genre-defining spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone, best known for the Man with No Name trilogy (A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly). Ray Tagavilla gamely invokes Clint Eastwood’s stoic, irreverent stranger, riding into a troubled town in the grip of a big bad boss, but the script misunderstands what makes Eastwood’s nameless character such a delight. The Man with No Name always finds a way to align his selfinterest with the broad moral good, making his motives intriguingly unclear. Is he a savior or just a mercenary? Tagavilla’s version hits the first few beats all right: He lets the townspeople exposition-dump their plight, remarks that there’s money to be made, and pretends not to take a side. In the end, however, he saves the town purely out of a sense of injustice, and money isn’t made. He’s just a boring, straightforward hero. That the big bad boss sells genetically engineered produce and pesticides is presented with such science-fiction hyperbole and strained anachronism (“Seeds engineered like a gun”), it brings to mind Cowboys & Aliens more than Monsanto. He remains unseen, represented onstage by his lackeys—the corrupt, yellowbellied sheriff, the mad-dog enforcer, and the second-in-command who holds the leash. Kate Hess, as the enforcer, was the most fun to watch, bringing a sparkly, girlish quality to her unstable sadism (akin to Gogo Yubari in Kill Bill); the rest of the seven-person cast was forced to spend much of the show glowering earnestly at one another.
Hong Kong–style cafe in North America. I could forgive all of this if SMOKED! had been truly ambitious and weird, another of Nordo’s medium-bending events that have frustrated and thrilled critics in the past. But aside from a few in-character lines of banter from the servers/actors, it was just scenes from an okayish play alternating with the courses of a disappointing dinner. You know, dinner theater.
BY BRENDAN KILEY
Last weekend, a friend texted me: “Did you see the Mild Daisey show at the Rep?” He meant to ask if I’d seen the Mike Daisey show at the Rep, but his typo was accidentally apt. In Daisey’s return to Seattle after his infamous monologue The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs blew up in his face, he seems like a slightly lost and off-kilter soul. His old bag of tricks (righteous indignation, naked truth-telling, vivid details) has been publicly and embarrassingly deconstructed. On This American Life, no less. So who is Mike Daisey—passionate speaker, unreliable narrator—now?
REVIEW
Mike Daisey Seattle Repertory Theater Through May 11
Moving the spaghetti western into lowbudget theater is, predictably, problematic. The beatings and barn burnings have to happen offstage, and the long pauses are tedious without the whiplash close-ups of Eastwood’s scowl. An equally predictable issue: Replacing rice with sunflower seeds will make a risotto awfully rich, and sunflower seeds are not at their best texture when simmered in liquid. Two of the dishes elicited actual pain. The spring vegetable “spaghetti” (read: coleslaw) came with mozzarella “meatballs” rolled in powdered olives, a combination so salty it hurt. The smoked alfalfa-hay popcorn was impressive only from a scientific standpoint, as each kernel carried such an intense cigarette-smoke sensation that it stung the lungs. Salt was an ongoing problem: The dessert consisted of a thin layer of rhubarb, seemingly sugarless, buried by salty biscuit dough and served with a side of smoked-salt fennel whipped cream—sweet and savory without the sweet. The highlight of the meal was an oxtail chili, which tasted a lot like the cheap borscht that comes with lunch at any
Last weekend’s show was titled American Utopias (this weekend is a different show, about Ayn Rand), and it covered Disney World, Burning Man, and Occupy Wall Street. He visited the first two, but not the third. The show has all the Daisey hallmarks: observational comedy, withering criticism (a dash for himself, mostly for others), and throaty bursts of shouting. The ingredients were there, but he did not seem like his former aggressively confident self. Which only stands to reason: One year ago, his monologue about working conditions in electronics factories in China took a bad turn when curious journalists figured out that Daisey had fabricated its most striking facts and then systematically lied about it. Daisey responded with a general tone of What did you expect? I’m a theater artist. All stories are fiction. But that was a hard sell for some of us who think it’s one thing when you’re talking about your childhood memories and quite another when you’re claiming to pry the scales from our eyes because only you know the truth about a large-scale, real-world injustice. Still, Jobs kicked open an important debate about consumption and labor, and some of us (who seem to regret his dissembling even more than he does) still want his career to have a second act. As of this weekend, we seem to be in the intermission between those two acts. Daisey is recalibrating. His observations seemed stale and flat-footed: Disney World is a bizarrely detailed consumerist fantasyland, Burning Man is disorienting and anarchic, Occupy revealed that power fears democracy and will break laws with impunity to suppress it. That’s old news. And between the staleness of the information and the wobbliness of its presentation, American Utopias seems like the work of a performer who was publicly neutered and is still trying to find another pair of balls. They’re out there, Mike. We want you to find them. Just keep looking—America is, after all, the land of reinvention.
ARTS CALENDAR Only the most noteworthy stuff.
HENRY ART GALLERY
Sanctum: For this installation you don’t even need to go indoors.
Six surveillance cameras capture you as you walk by the museum. If you get within 12 feet (as you are warned by signs), you’ll be profiled—sensors will scan the “landmarks” of your face, as the artists Juan Pampin and James Coupe describe them, and you’ll appear on the video screens in the windows. Text taken from volunteers’ Facebook posts (anyone can sign up to donate their status updates) will appear as a story on your image. You’ll get a story the system thinks represents you demographically, and the voice in the speakers above modulates accordingly, too (male/female, slow/fast for older/younger). Creepy or entertaining? Free. Through Nov 30, 2015. 4100 15th Ave NE 543-2280.
BHERD STU DIOS
(Un/Re) Attached: John Osgood and Miguel Edwards reveal their months-long collaborative investigation of the forces that separate and connect. By exchanging pieces back and forth between each other, they employ a variety of media and a cyclical concept and process. Free. Fri May 10, 6-9:30 pm; Sat May 11, 12-5 pm. Wed-Sat. Through Jun 7. 312 N 85th St, 234-8348.
C ART GALLERY Insight : To celebrate the gallery’s fifth year, Yeggy Michael’s paintings “illustrate the unity and lusciousness of diversity,” plus there’s new work by Delton Mosby and Sita Das. Free. Reception Thurs May 9, 5:308:30 pm. Tues-Thurs. Through May 19. 855 Hiawatha Pl 322-9374.
CAIRO Pussy Light: Wicklified: collages
Scherrer. Free. May 11-June 15. 114 Third Ave S, 323-2808.
THE BEAST WITHIN
Todd Horton and Bill Evans talk about “animalian nature” in conjunction with their show The Birds and the Beasts. Gage Academy of Art, 1501 10th Ave E, 526-2787. Free. Fri May 10, 7 pm.
BLITZ
Capitol Hill’s monthly art walk. Capitol Hill Thurs May 9, 5-8 pm.
GEORGETOWN ART ATTACK
Sustained attacks by Fantagraphics, the Georgetown Trailer Park Mall, Krab Jab Studio, LxWxH Gallery, and dozens of other venues. Georgetown. georgetownartattack.com. Free. Sat May 11, 6-9 pm.
HIAWATHA OPEN HOUSE
A day of music, art, and studio tours. Artspace Hiawatha Lofts, 843 Hiawatha Pl S. Free. Sat May 11, 2-9 pm.
PHINNEYWOOD ART WALK
Phinneywood Art Walk : The big, yearly version features all the things you love about the monthly happening but bigger and more so. This year’s event includes a photography exhibition from Rex Hohlbein that intends to “rebrand” homelessness. Phinney Neighborhood Association, 6532 Phinney Ave N, 783-2244. Free. Fri May 10, 6-9 pm; Sat May 11, 12-5 pm.
visualart@thestranger.com
Wed 5/8
JAMES KELMAN
James Kelman is a great novelist, but he also comes up with the best novel titles in the business today. Get a load of these two: How Late It Was, How Late and You Have to be Careful in the Land of the Free. His new one is titled Mo Said She Was Quirky, which is also a good title. Elliott Bay Book Company 1521 10th Ave, 624-6600. Free. 7 pm.
JOHN CROWLEY
nigh on 100 grads. Also, food trucks at the reception. Free. Reception Fri May 10, 5-9 pm. May 10-25. 1000 Lenora St HEDREEN GALLERY, SEATTLE UNIVERSITY Weird Sisters: Kate Lebo, Kat Larson, and Kate Ryan are looking to disrupt systems of meaning involving the feminine, stabbing things with hat pins and poisoning the soup (figuratively). Cooking shows, alchemy, milk, and blood are employed in the melee. Free. Wed-Sat. Through Jun 15. 901 12th Ave 296-2244.
JAMES
Crowley is the brilliant sci-fi and fantasy author who wrote Little, Big. This should be a good time. University Temple United Methodist Church, 1415 NE 43rd St, 634-3400. Free. 7 pm.
TAVERN BOOKS NIGHT
Tavern Books is a Portland publisher. Tonight’s event features local poets Pimone Triplett. Kary Wayson, and Andrew Feld. Open Books co-owner
J.W. Marshall will also speak, along with Copper Canyon Press executive editor Michael Wiegers. Hugo House, 1634 11th Ave, 322-7030. Free. 7 pm.
Thurs 5/9
BENJAMIN PERCY, JONATHAN EVISON
Percy is the author of Red Moon which is a novel about werewolves. He’s interviewed by local author Evison. Elliott Bay Book Company, 1521 10th Ave, 624-6600. Free. 7 pm.
CHEAP WINE & POETRY
The final CW&P before summer features poets Jason Whitmarsh, Anastacia Tolbert, Jared Leising, and Samar Abulhassan, along with an open mic and lots of wine for a buck a glass. Hugo House, 1634 11th Ave, 3227030. Free. 7 pm.
AN EVENING WITH URSULA K. LE GUIN & MARIANO MARTIN
RODRIGUEZ
Le Guin and Rodriguez “discuss translating Gheorghe Sasarman’s Squaring the Circle: A Pseudotreatise of Urbogony.” Seattle Public Library, 1000 Fourth Avenue, 386-4636. Free. 7 pm.
ERIC DREXLER
Eric Drexler is considered by many to be the founding father of nanotechnology. If you don’t know what nanotechnology is, let me put it in simplistic terms for you: tiny robots fucking with molecular structure.Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave, 652-4255. $5. 7:30 pm.
means we recommend it.
Fri 5/10
MARJORIE MANWARING, W. VANDOREN WHEELER
Manwaring’s Search for a Velvet-Lined Cape has a poem that includes the lines “covered in sheets, you catch/your bus, pull the cord ten blocks/early, walk into the store that sells magic.” Wheeler’s “Cause and Effect” features the lines “The lights rise just before the film finishes./The pinball machine blacks out before/swallowing the last ball.” Open Books 2414 N 45th St, 633-0811. Free. 7:30 pm.
Sat 5/11
GUY PEELLAERT: THE ADVENTURES OF JODELLE / FRENCH POP YEARS
This is an opening party for a show titled Guy Peellaert: The Adventures of Jodelle and Fragments of the French Pop Years , which is timed to the publication of a beautiful, huge book titled The Adventures of Jodelle . This event includes music from Angelo Spencer. Fantagraphics Bookstore and Gallery, 1201 S Vale St, 658-0110. Free. 6 pm.
NEAL THOMPSON
Thompson’s new biography is titled A Curious Man: The Strange & Brilliant Life of Robert “Believe It or Not!” Ripley Elliott Bay Book Company 1521 10th Ave, 624-6600. Free. 7 pm.
Sun 5/12
EVGENY MOROZOV
To Save Everything, Click Here is about how we think the internet can fix everything, and how that’s probably not true. Town Hall , 1119 Eighth Ave, 6524255. $5. 7:30 pm.
Mon 5/13
SUZANNE RINDELL
The Other Typist is a novel set in the 1920s about a police stenographer who becomes obsessed with another police stenographer. University Book Store, 4326 University Way NE, 634-3400. Free. 7 pm.
MICHAEL POLLAN
See Stranger Suggests, page 23. Benaroya Hall 200 University St, 215-4806. $24$125. 8 pm.
Tues 5/14
JONATHAN EVISON
Evison’s best, most recent novel, The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving is now out in paperback. It’s funny and sweet and sad and well-written and you should read it. Barnes & Noble Northgate Mall, 301 NE Northgate Way #1100, 4172967. Free. 7 pm.
SUSAN ORLEAN
Susan Orlean is one of the few living authors who can say she was played by Meryl Streep in a movie.Benaroya Hall, 200 University St, 215-4806. $15$50. 7:30 pm. readings@thestranger.com
33 VARIATIONS
Nominated for five Tony Awards, Moises Kauffman’s play is a drama set in New York City and Austria about a mother and a composer separated by 200 years. ArtsWest , 4711 California Ave SW, 938-0339. $10-$45. Wed-Sat at 7:30 pm, Sun at 3 pm. Through May 25.
ASSISTED LIVING
“Assisted Living, a world-premiere play by Seattle writer Katie Forgette, opens in an assistedliving facility that is actually a lightly veneered prison: bars on the windows, linoleum trim, dull gray-blue tile, cheap office furniture, and a photo of a smiling President Dick Cheney. This is the near future, where the economy is on the verge of collapse, and senior citizens have to pay for any medical treatment that might be even obliquely related to their former lifestyles (such as eating). Those who can’t pay, or those who make a fuss about the situation, are
sent to the ‘first floor,’ a land of permanent sedation and light rotation over a heat source to keep them alive. Or maybe they just get killed. Nobody has ever come back to describe it. The production’s unarticulated but looming argument is twofold. First: If you remove the social-ish (not socialist) safety net and let businesses run the show, they’ll be much quicker to kill off the sick and unprofitable than any liberal-democratic ‘Obamacare’ bureaucracy. Second: If you’re living in a death camp—even if it pretends to be cheerful—the power of theater can save the day.” (Brendan Kiley) ACT Theater, 700 E Union St, www. acttheatre.org. $15-$41. TuesThurs at 7:30 pm, Fri-Sat at 8 pm, Sat at 2 pm, Sun at 2 and 7 pm. Through May 12.
FUCKING FUCKING
FUCKING AYN RAND
See review, page 28. Seattle Repertory Theater 155 Mercer St, Seattle Center, www. seattlerep.org. $25. Wed-Sat at 7:30 pm. Through May 11.
SEATTLE CONFIDENTIAL: REWIND
“Actor, writer, director, and impresario Ian Bell has been a force for good in Seattle theater over the past several years: the artistic director of sketch group Bald Faced Lie, the creator of the Brown Derby Reading Series, and the curator of Re-bar theater where he helped cultivate the early careers of music/theater acts like the French Project, ‘Awesome,’ Mark Siano’s soft-rock spectaculars.
Seattle Confidential is another of Bell’s good ideas, in which he proposes a quarterly theme (this time is ‘Rewind’) and spends a few months collecting anonymous stories to be read by actors. Bell also collects anonymous surveys and data—sometimes during the show itself, which the audience submits via text—and organizes it into charts and graphs. Part anthropology and part datacabaret, Seattle Confidential is an entertaining core sample of Seattle’s collective psyche.”
(Brendan Kiley) ACT Theater, 700 E Union St, www.acttheatre. org. $20. Fri-Sat at 7:30 pm. Through May 11.
STAR CROSSED, AND OTHER TALES FROM A DEVIOUS UNIVERSE
Eight short plays—four of which follow an astronaut on her scientific journey away from and back to love—written by Scotto Moore
(A Mouse Who Knows Me Duel of the Linguist Mages), directed by five directors, and featuring an ensemble cast. Annex Theater, 1100 E Pike St, www. annextheatre.org. $5-$10. TuesWed at 8 pm. Through May 22.
TWISTED CABARET
The premise: Although the band and audience are prepared for a comedy/varieté show, the tour bus with all of the performers is delayed. Real-life brilliant vaudeville polymath Frank Olivier has to perform all 16 variety acts on his own with only the help of Flynch, his hunchback assistant. Hale’s Palladium, 4301 Leary Way NW, 701-7285. $18-$22. Thurs at 7:30 pm. Fri-Sat at 7:30 and 10:30 pm. Through May 11.
Dance
CO-LAB 5
The members of Coriolis Dance revive works from previous Co-LAB series. Featuring choreography by Zoe Scofield, Rainbow Fletcher, Lauren Edson, Natascha Greenwalt Murphy, Christin Call, and Andrea Larreta. Erickson Theater Off Broadway, 1524 Harvard Ave, www.brownpapertickets.com. $10-$20. Fri-Sat at 8 pm. Through May 11.
Improv & Comedy
WORLD’S FAIR
An unscripted crime thriller improvised by Jet City Improv, set at the World’s Columbian Expo of 1893, inspired by Erik Larson’s Devil in the White City and the story of H.H. Holmes, America’s first serial killer. Wing-It Productions , 5510 University Way NE, www.wingitpresents.com. $12-$15. ThursFri at 8 pm. Through June 21. theater@thestranger.com
BY MEGAN SELING
Tears came out of my eyes as I pulled the blood-soaked gauze out of my mouth—I couldn’t feel anything on the lower half of my face, but the fresh wounds in my gums, where
my wisdom teeth used to be, were still trickling a tinny-tasting stream of blood that all the water in the world couldn’t rinse off my tongue. Blech.
After getting all four of my wisdom teeth pulled, I stayed hunkered down in bed and survived on a diet of over-the-counter painkillers, Netflix’s terrible reality TV shows (Bridalplasty, dudes—seriously), and liquid meals for several days. Within the first 24 hours, I had already grown tired of juice, soups, and chalky Odwalla protein shakes. I was dying to eat something real, something that stuck to my bones and satisfied my sweet tooth.
This is when I fell in love with the milkshake all over again. I’d been so distracted by eating dessert that I completely forgot that sometimes the best way to spike your blood sugar comes through a straw! The milkshake is the bright side of having to have four large teeth yanked out of your face.
Whether it’s a traditional strawberry shake from Dick’s Drive-In ($2.15) or a boozy smoked-chocolate-and-whiskey concoction from Ballard’s Hot Cakes Molten Chocolate Cakery ($13!), as long as real ice cream is used, it’s nearly impossible to make a bad milkshake. (A mediocre milkshake, sure, but certainly not a bad one.)
And there are dozens of places in Seattle you can go to quench this specific thirst. Luna Park Cafe in West Seattle has an insanely good banana-split shake—it tastes like the
not—you buy some ice cream, add some milk or juice, and blend it together with spoonfuls of whatever the fuck you want. Malt powder! Candy bar bits! Caramel sauce! Nerds! Pineapple, strawberries, and chocolate, oh my! But just because you don’t need something doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. You don’t need milkshakes, either, but… wait, yes. Yes, you do need milkshakes.
Sunday-Monday: Happy Hour All Day
Tuesday: 'Tini Tuesdays - $5 well martinis
Wednesday: Wine-down Wednesdays1/2 off most bottles of wine
last three bites of a banana split, where the chocolate, ice cream, and fruit have all melted together into sweet perfection. At Red Mill, you can get the peanut-butter shake with strawberries added, making it one of the most indulgent PB&J experiences you’ll ever have. There’s also Full Tilt Ice Cream, Molly Moon’s, Scooter’s, Lunchbox Laboratory… even Cupcake Royale has milkshakes now! You can literally drink a red velvet cupcake.
But there’s one problem with most of these places—sometimes they’re really, really busy. Especially now that the sun is shining and we’re all climbing out of our SAD-soaked caverns looking for anything that will feel like summer, Molly Moon’s often has a line down the block, and on the weekends, Full Tilt in Ballard can be overrun with pinball-machinehogging children. Thankfully, you can also make a really good—maybe even the best!—milkshake at home. For inspiration, take a look at local dessert wizard (and Hot Cakes owner) Autumn Martin’s new cookbook, Malts & Milkshakes
More milkshakes should come with warning labels.
Anyway, Malts & Milkshakes will inspire you to take your homemade milkshake game to a gourmet level (and if you learn better by example, Martin is teaching a milkshake class this Saturday, May 11, at Hot Cakes—see getyourhotcakes.com for info). The tasty list of shake flavors includes watermelon and lime, salt and pepper, molten chocolate cake, mango rose, and—as if the bacon trend hasn’t already gone far enough, and further—there’s also a recipe for a bacon-oatmeal-raisin-cookies shake (with homemade bacon-oatmeal-raisin cookies).
As with Hot Cakes’ in-house menu, things start to get boozy, too—throw in some whiskey! Add some tequila or brandy! There’s even a recipe for a rum-laced chipotle-spice sipping chocolate shake that is supposedly so hot, it had to come with a warning label. More milkshakes should come with warning labels.
When you’re ready to eat solid foods again, Martin’s book also includes recipes for salted peanut-butter-cookie ice cream sandwiches, apple pocket pies, and Hot Cakes’ famous molten cake—but who needs solid food anymore? Milkshakes are the new juice fast.
The one untruth within Martin’s book is where she says, in the beginning: “Traditionally milkshakes are served in the classic soda fountain glass, which is 12 ounces. But really, that is a lot of ice cream to consume in one sitting.” Amateur.
*You’re welcome for writing a 703-word article about milkshakes without once referencing that Kelis song.
Thursday: Ladies night - 1/2 off specialty cocktails for the ladies.
Open: 4pm-12am Sunday-Thursday 4pm-2am Friday-Saturday located in the MarQueen Hotel at 600 Queen Anne Ave N. www.marqueen.com/lounge/the-tin-lizzie-lounge
Do you need a cookbook telling you how to make malts and milkshakes? Of course
Milkshakes! Let us discuss at THESTRANGER.COM/CHOW
CUISINE OF INDIA
Lunch Buffet
7 Days a Week Buy 2, Get $2 Off !
Dinner Buffet Last Sunday of the Month! Happy Hour 3-6 PM! Bring this Coupon and get 20% OFF on Dinner!
6509 Roosevelt Way NE www.bengaltigerwa.com 206-985-0041
BY CHARLES MUDEDE
I’m at Sea-Tac. I’m going to San Francisco. I get a boarding pass in no time, get checked by security after waiting for some time, and board my plane on time. But the inside of the plane does not look like a plane. It instead looks like a nightclub in Moscow that’s trying to look like a nightclub in Berlin. The airline is Virgin America, and this is how they do business: You are not flying; you are clubbing. Though my flight will be short, and though it’s six in the morning, the whole disco theme and the dubby techno streaming from the speakers above the seats puts me in the mood for a cocktail. I imagine that I’m now some party animal in Moscow who has just arrived at the club and needs a drink. The plane takes off—the lakes, the city, the fog, and the volcano. The screen in front
of me is my bartender. I order a Rock & Roll (a drink I imagine a Russian would think is very popular in America), and moments later it’s on my tray, which has become my bar. The Rock & Roll is a mix of Absolut vodka and Rockstar Lemonade, and it costs $10. I finish it in minutes and order another. I finish it in minutes and order white wine (35 South, from Chile). I finish it in minutes and leave the nightclub drunk. While walking to the airport’s ground transportation area, the most amazing thing happens: I see Henry Louis Gates Jr. standing right there in front of me. The famous Harvard professor and literary critic is on a cell phone, having a deep conversation. But when he notices that I know who he is, he stops talking and greets me. I tell him it’s such an honor to meet him. I tell him I love his books and essays. I do not, however, mention that incident with the dumb cop, or the drinks he had with that dumb cop and our president. He asks me what I do for a living. I tell him I’m a writer. He says: “You must write of my journal… It’s called Roots Please call me… I want you on board.” He is so friendly.
I ask if I can take a picture of him, and he allows me to do so. I take the image, thank him, shake his hand, and leave. Later, when checking the image as I approach the airport’s exit, I realize that my drunkenness spoiled it. I did not hold the camera steady, and so now possess a blurred image of one of the most famous black American intellectuals in history.
Comment on
Drinkungg with Charlse Muddede at THESTRANGER.COM/CHOW
Hey, look: It’s Seattle Beer Week, with more than 100 beery events from May 9 through 19 (because a beer week should last 10 days). The sloshy good times happen at the places below and all over town—check seattlebeerweek.com for more, and celebrate the best beer city in the world (according to Seattle Beer Week) with beer! Also: tons more pub/bar/restaurant reviews at THESTRANGER.COM/CHOW
BITTERROOT • Ballard: Bitterroot, in the old Acme Rubber Stamp Shop on the corner by Hattie’s Hat, uses an in-house smoker and picturesque stacks of apple wood to very good effect. Sides are way better than average, especially the super-fluffy grits. The front room has salvaged wood paneling and chain-link fencing, which sounds weird but looks pleasant; the bar in the back feels a little bit secret, like a small private club. Bitterroot’s pretty great, and it’s also open late—until 2 a.m. every damn day. (5239 Ballard Ave NW, 5881577, bitterrootbbq. com, $$)
BEVERIDGE
PLACE PUB • West
Seattle: Darts, pool, shuffleboard, and 25 beers on tap and more than 100 in bottles are here for you at this homey neighborhood alehouse. Also: a patio with hop vines growing. For food, there’s the commendably sensible solution of the Menu Book, with tons of nearby delivery and take-out options, and they’ll also let you bring something to eat from home. (6413 California Ave SW, 932-9906, beveridgeplacepub.com, $)
BROUWER’S CAFE • Fremont: Belgian cuisine offers all kinds of peasanty, promising things: steamed mussels, frites, the creamy chicken-leek stew known as waterzooi, the beer-braised beef stew known as carbonnade, Belgian endive. All of these are served at Brouwer’s, and the kitchen gets the flavors right. The place is massive and theatrical, with a kind of swank postindustrial-beer-hall vibe, but the cavernous space somehow still feels cozy (especially if you get one of the dark wooden booths). And if you love beer, you’re gonna freak out on the 64 taps and 300-plus bottles, including a tremendous selection of monk-y Belgians. (Also: more than 60 kinds of Scotch!) Beware of the crowd at prime Fremont party hours. (400 N 35th St, 267-2437, brouwerscafe.com, $$)
THE BURGUND IAN • Green Lake: From the people behind Brouwer’s and Bottleworks (yay!), the Burgundian is a craft beer bar in Tangletown where Bandolero (and, before that, the Pour House, and the Luau) used to be. (Confusingly, the Burgundian spent its first few months known as the Publican, but a restaurant in Chicago by the same name got mad, so...) Also: breakfast all day to cushion the drinking, and chicken and waffles that are reportedly God’s gift to brunch. (2253 N 56th St, 420-8943, burgundianbar.com, $$)
CHUCK’S HOP SHOP • Greenwood: Chuck’s is a mini-market with 23 craft beers on tap and a growing bottle selection of almost 900 different brews (!). They welcome babies and dogs. (656 NW 85th St, 206-2976212, chucks85th.com)
HOPVINE PUB • Capitol Hill: The Hopvine is a nice, low-key neighborhood place with a good selection of microbrews for the hale, Northwesty set. People go apeshit for the Hopvine’s soups—the chef says they’ve asked if they can get them intravenously. (507 15th Ave E, 328-3120, 3pubs.com, $$)
JOLLY ROGER TAPROOM • Ballard: The Jolly Roger Taproom is brewpub meets pirates’ lair, complete with a treasure map painted on the floor. Beers are from the family-owned Maritime Pacific Brewery, and the menu offers both cheap pub grub and fancier entrees. People love the onion rings, oyster sliders, and fried pickles. (1111 NW Ballard Wy, 782-6181, $–$$)
NAKED CITY BREWERY & TAPHOUSE • Greenwood: Naked City is named for the slow-moving 1948 film noir that opens with a beautiful woman being chloroformed and drowned in a tub. The interior is stripped-down and modern, with granite countertops and stark plaster walls, with black-and-white headshots of movie greats and a framed Casablanca poster. Naked City sports a rotating selection of draft beers and ciders, many of them regional or house-brewed—beer nerds will be pleased. (8564 Greenwood Ave N, 838-6299, nakedcitybrewing.com, $–$$)
THE NOBLE FIR • Ballard: A veteran of REI and a recovering lawyer bring Seattle a great-outdoorsrelated tavern where everyone can “share wilderness experiences” and gain “renewed inspiration for that hike you’ve been wanting to tackle.” You may also gain renewed inspiration from sharing in the experience of their reportedly great beer selection. (5316 Ballard Ave NW, 420-7425, noblefir.com, $$)
THE PINE BOX • Capitol Hill: Headed by Ian Roberts (a founder of Seattle Beer Week!!!) and
great Scott Carsberg (Lampreia, Bisato). Carsberg’s not actually in the kitchen, so results can vary, but the pizza is really good, and the short rib—a Flintstones-sized block of meat served with tzatziki and a shiitake/Parmesan hand pie—is outstanding. Mostly, with its leaded glass windows, enormous mirrors, ornate woodwork, vaulted ceiling, and antique fixtures, the Pine Box works marvelously as a beer hall. It’s loud and lovely and a lot of fun. (1600 Melrose Ave, 588-0375, pineboxbar.com, $–$$)
PROST! Phinney and West Seattle: Seattle’s two Prost!s—it means “cheers,” specifically for beer, in German— are like miniature beer halls. Their brief German menus skew toward the absorptive—the slow-cooked rippchen mit sauerkraut is a must—and a dizzying number of German imports are on tap at the bar. And along with proper glassware for each beer and steins galore, there’s the legendary Boot: a two-liter vessel for the committed or gigantic beer drinker. Prost! (3407 California Ave SW, 420-7174, and 7311 Greenwood Ave N, 706-5430, prosttavern.net, $)
QUINN’S • Capitol Hill: The people behind Restaurant Zoë created this Capitol Hill gastropub, offering (relatively) affordable, prettied-up versions of country foods people have been eating forever. Dark, plain furnishings set against the enormous windows anchor the space, leaving the limelight to the building’s bones; the best thing about the space might be the bouquet-of-lightbulbs chandeliers, like a collection of good ideas glowing together. Upstairs is like the hold of an old ship. People love the wild boar sloppy joe, and anything pâté-ish or sausagey is bound to be great (vegetarians, beware). Quinn’s bar favors whiskeys, bourbons, and beers, and they always carry several Trappist ales and always have 14 beers on tap. (1001 E Pike St, 325-7711, quinnspubseattle.com, $$)
VON TRAPP’S • Capitol Hill: Von Trapp’s is a “Bavarian-inspired” behemoth of a beer hall across from Seattle University that houses five bocce courts, two mezzanines, three bars, seven kinds of homemade wurst, 24 beers on tap (plus tons more in bottles), and a partridge in a pear tree. (912 12th Ave, 206-325-5409, vontrapps.com, $)
THE YARD CAFE • Greenwood: Brought to you by the people of Ballard’s excellent pub/cafe/bottle shop the Dray (spell it backward!), the Yard has 12 rotating beers on tap, Mexican food, and a giant yard. It sounds fun! (8313 Greenwood Ave N, 588-1746, theyardcafe.com, $$)
Wed 5/8
BILL’S OFF BROADWAY
FUNDRAISER
Bill’s got a window broken by some shitheads on May Day, and the Anarchists of the Puget Sound have organized this eat/drink-in to support the staff who lost tips. Mr. Bill says, philosophically, “The window was only a physical thing”; the anarchists would like you to know that “Our argument is with the corporations and government, not small businesses or workers. Come, order some food, order some drinks, tip well, and have fun!” Bill’s Off Broadway , 725 E Pine St, 323-7200. billsoffbroadway.com. No cover. 7-10 pm.
DYKE MARCH
TRIVIA NIGHT
under, and UW staff/faculty/students. 10 am-4 pm.
ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT
PIEROGI FESTIVAL
See Stranger Suggests, p. 23. Polish Home, aka Dom Polski , 1714 18th Ave, 322-3020. polishhome.org. $16/$8 age 11 and under/free age 3 and under. 11:30 am-4 pm.
HOT CAKES
MILKSHAKE CLASS
See story, p. 31. Hot Cakes Molten Chocolate Cakery , 5427 Ballard Avenue NW, 420-3431. getyourhotcakes.com. $40. 4-5 pm.
Sun 5/12
MOTHER’S DAY
Don’t forget! Also, take your mom to any Cupcake Royale between two and eight o’clock and get her a free scoop of ice cream. Love you, Mom! Various locations. cupcakeroyale. com. Free. 2-8 pm.
Mon 5/13
NORTHWEST
WOMEN IN BEER
It’s the first! ever! Seattle Dyke March Trivia Night: “Prove (or improve) your command of lesbian history and culture, connect with fabulous folks, and unwind with the finest food and beverages” at the yummy St. Dames Cafe. All proceeds support the march. St. Dames Cafe , 4525 Martin Luther King Jr Way, 725-8879. seattledykemarch.com. $10 cover. 8 pm.
Sat 5/11
MUSHROOM MAYNIA Shroom with fellow fungophiles−all things mushroom are considered and demonstrated, including identification, cultivation, and cooking. Burke Museum, NE 45th St and 17th Ave NE, 543-5590. burkemuseum.org. $10/$8 seniors/$7.50 students and age 5 and up/free for Burke members, 4 and
Meet the Thirsty Sisters and taste their beers (including one specially brewed for tonight) along with local womanproduced cheeses and confections. Part of the proceeds go to Planned Parenthood, and yay for that! Pike Pub & Brewing Company, 1415 First Ave, 622-6604. pikebrewing. com. 5-8 pm.
MICHAEL POLLAN See Stranger Suggests, p. 23. Benaroya Hall 200 University St, 2154700. seattlesymphony. org. $24-$52, $125 VIP w/reception. 8 pm.
MEANS WE RECOMMEND IT. SEND EVENT INFO TO: chow@thestranger.com
Find grazillions more food events online.
BY MEGAN SELING
There’s something about Laura Stevenson’s music that makes it impossible for me to stop listening to her songs. Last year, I played her song “Master of Art” hundreds of times in a matter of
months, and this time around, on her latest record, Wheel, my drug is the first single, “Runner.” It sounds like the epitome of summer—the chorus captures the same bright bitterness of “Vacation” by the Go-Go’s, while Stevenson sings over and over, “This summer hurts.” It’s the same kind of relationship I have with summer. I love it, and I hate it.
Elsewhere on Wheel, Stevenson continues the evolution from acoustic folk songs to more explosive anthems with injections of horns and piano—new layers reveal themselves with every listen. I chatted with Stevenson while her band made the long trip from Houston to El Paso.
You used to be billed as Laura Stevenson and the Cans. I was going to ask you where the Cans went, but then I read your interview with Larry Livermore, where you pointed out one of the reasons you dropped it was because people kept making boob jokes. That was the thing that annoyed me from the get-go, but I was like, “I’m going to try to overcome this.”
Did you see Grimes’s recent blog post about the things that she’s no longer going to put up with as a female musician? She doesn’t want to be infantilized; she’s tired of reviews calling her a waif or a fairy… all these cute words. I feel like it’s something that isn’t talked about much in the music industry. Does it ever still feel like it’s a boys’ club out there? Definitely. Especially the infantilizing thing. It’s so ridiculous, because no matter what I do, my voice is called “cute.” Even if I’m saying something hideous and sounding as ugly as I can, I’m still called
with what’s in their own head. I’m too selfcentered. I’ve tried that; Bob Dylan is really good at that. I can’t get there—I don’t feel like I can be as honest as I want to be. I have enough demons I need to battle right now, so I’m using songwriting to do that. Maybe when I run out of demons I can venture.
A lot of the lyrics have similar themes of spinning, running, turning—there’s constant movement that makes everything feel really unsettled. Is that where you were during the songwriting process? I think so. You know, I’m doing this thing, but what am I really doing? Is my life going to be able to support itself? Those are the total surface questions. And then there’s all the crazy What is the meaning of life? stuff. Existential, ridiculous questions that we all have. It’s kind of like, if I stop moving, if I stop trying to build this thing, what’s gonna happen? I can’t stop.
On Wheel, you seem to break further away from traditional song structures. The crashing piano bit on “Bells & Whistles,” and the way the horns start doing their own thing−it sounds more unstructured and wild than previous material, which is awesome. Yeah, I don’t like verse-chorus-verse-chorus. It makes me uncomfortable when I hear a chorus a third time. I’m like, “All right, give it a break.” [Laughs] Like, Katy Perry’s “Firework” is a great song, but she does six or seven choruses! But I would never trash Katy Perry, I think she’s fantastic.
cute. I had a party at my apartment, and this young couple said to me, “We listened to your music! It’s really cute.” They were guests in my home, so I couldn’t be like, “Get the fuck out,” they were my roommate’s friends, but how shitty! Your life’s work is fucking cute? Would you say that to Beethoven? Like, “Real cute sonata, Beethoven.” It makes you feel small, and you shouldn’t have to feel that way, especially if you’re an adult human being who’s making something honest.
One thing that strikes me about Wheel is that there are a couple of songs, especially “Runner,” that are really summery and bright, despite the dark lyrics. Are you a fan of summer? I’m actually an anti-fan of summer.
I have a hard time during that season because I never spent the summer just carefree and on a beach somewhere. I get really depressed all year long, but in the summertime it’s annoying because I don’t want to be going out and having fun—I like to be tucked away and isolated. It makes me feel like I’m wasting my youthful years. Every summer is just, you know, sad.
You’re a Katy Perry fan? I don’t know! I think I am, because I love that record so much—and her movie made me cry. I think I was just emotional, but I really liked the relationship with her sister—I called my sister like, “I’m sorry I’m a terrible sister!” [Laughs] She was like, “What are you talking about?”
Have you see the Beyoncé documentary? Yes! It’s very good, but there’s a way-too-long scene where she and Jay-Z are sitting on a yacht singing Coldplay’s “Yellow.” It’s the worst moment in history caught on film. It’s so uncomfortably long. Ugh, it’s terrible.
You’re going to make a summer playlist for us, too. I’m really excited about that. Do you know what any of the songs are yet? The video version—not the album version—of Christina Aguilera’s “Come On Over Baby.” It’s one of the best songs. Can I put that on there, or is that weird?
“No matter what I do, my voice is called cute—even if I’m saying something hideous.”
No, that’s not weird! You like a lot of female pop stars. I do! I do. I like to sing in the shower, mainly sugary pop music.
NEWS, REVIEWS, AND BOOBS BY SPF 70
• Bumbershoot’s 2013 lineup was announced at the Crocodile last Thursday during a prom-themed Allen Stone concert— couples took the event very seriously and dressed in actual adult prom wear, complete with corsages and all the boobs that’s fit to primp. Bumbershoot this year will include the Breeders (play “Cannonball!”), the Zombies (whoa!), MGMT (okay!), fun. (no.), Heart (yay!), !!! (!!!), Death Cab for Cutie (sob!), Redd Kross (woo!), Superchunk (neat!), and all kinds of other wonderful summer music for you to Shiskaberry to.
• The best place to take a break from the May Day riots last Wednesday evening was Chop Suey, for Los Angeles–based Bleached The sister-fronted four-piece played a well-balanced set of new and old sunbaked tunes, charming the crowd with their buzzing harmonies and bright pop hooks.
• Las Vegas’s That 1 Guy brought his particular hippie electronica to the Tractor on Friday night, playing his signature homemade instrument (the “magic pipe,” constructed with steel pipes and bass strings), showing acid-test videos, and deploying a sock puppet. The house was packed with people who had the maniacal glint of cult members in their eyes and LOVED every second of it. They got especially excited for the song “Butt Machine.”
• EMP is acknowledging the exotic freak show that is women in music with its Women Who Rock exhibit, which features such notable artifacts as Lady Gaga’s piano and Madonna’s bustier.
• Toronto’s harsh-grunge revivalists Metz caused much joyful moshing and unabashed stage-diving at Neumos on Saturday. Earplugs were needed, bruises were unavoidable, and everyone left in a “whoaaa that was heavy” daze.
• Reunited for the evening, mid-’90s punksynth explosion the Cripples played a swell show at the Comet on Saturday, the proceeds of which went to help fund an inprogress documentary about the beloved, defunct Funhouse
• Debacle Fest happened May 3–5 and was a roaring aesthetic success, if not extremely well-attended. Performances by Date Palms, Hieroglyphic Being, Matt Carlson, Brain Fruit, Expo ’70, Strategy, Prostitutes, and others made it one of the most satisfying musical experiences in Seattle in a very long time.
Are your lyrics fairly autobiographical? Everything I write is autobiographical, pretty much. I can’t really get into the head of someone else and write because I don’t know what goes on in their head—I just write for me.
Some artists and musicians do the exact opposite—they don’t want to deal
What about Taylor Swift? I have not gotten on that boat yet, but I do like that one song where she talks on the phone in the middle of it. That song is incredible. I don’t like the verses, but I think the chorus—that’s just genius. It hits some frequency where I’m like, “All right, that’s a good song, I want to hear it again.”
I bet your tourmates love that. Yeah, no, not so much.
Listen to Laura Stevenson’s summer playlist at THESTRANGER.COM/MUSIC
• The Cave Singers finished up their latest tour by packing out the Showbox at the Market on Saturday. Beaming frontman Pete Quirk introduced their newest member, bassist/flutist Morgan Henderson, noting, “He smells good. I watched him sleep for three hours today—it wasn’t weird at all.” Shredding on the flute is the new guitar solo.
• Speaking of Brain Fruit, the local cosmic synths-drums trio recently finished recording a ton of material at Avast! Recording Co. with Randall Dunn and now are trying to chop it down into manageable form and find a home (or two) for it.
BY CHARLES MUDEDE
Let’s begin with the big picture. In the 1980s, two big movements defined black pop—one was black elegance, the other was modern hiphop. Black elegance was introduced by Chic (an R&B group inspired by the album covers of Roxy Music) and elaborated on by the production duo Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis (the SOS Band, Cherrelle, Alexander O’Neal, the Human League). Modern hiphop was introduced by Rakim (“First to ever let a rhyme flow down the Nile”) and accelerated by Public Enemy and N.W.A. Both black elegance and modern hiphop offered a response to Reaganomics: the former by way of escapism, the latter by way of street realism. The former’s defining image was the flying blimp on the cover of the SOS Band single “Just Be Good to Me,” the latter’s defining image was the black men behind bars on the cover of Public Enemy’s It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
Teddy Riley & Blackstreet Fri May 10, Showbox Sodo, 9:30 pm, $37.50, all ages
popping beat—nothing like that clean Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis shit), but yet it’s not (check out the opening line of Johnny Kemp’s “Just Got Paid”: Check the mirror/I’m looking fly… that’s pure Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis shit). But the trick worked, and it made Riley a fortune. Indeed, Riley became for the early ’90s what Nile Rodgers, the cofounder of Chic and the black elegance mode, was for the ’80s.
Teddy Riley’s influence on pop music is gigantic.
Without him, there would be no Neptunes (who entered the world of production by way of his Virginia Beach studio), and without the Neptunes, there would be no Justin Timberlake as we know him today. No Riley would also have meant no good record from the King of Pop (the late MJ)
Eventually, there was a struggle for souls between the two modes. Hiphop, which was still young and still trying to break into the mainstream, began attacking the more established black elegance—its line of attack
Real men, according to hiphop, did not wear nice clothes.
was the perceived effeminacy of escapism. Black men were seen as doing nothing but wearing nice clothes and looking in mirrors (watch a Morris Day video). Real men, according to hiphop, did not wear nice clothes (that was for women and gay men)—instead, they wore military uniforms, tracksuits, and sneakers.
As hiphop’s audience grew, an alarmed R&B began looking for a way out of the fancy black-elegance blimp. There were two parachutes for R&B’s “down to earth” moment in the late 1980s. One was made by Mary J. Blige, whose sound and clothing were made of rougher material—more street, more urban, more real. She was not looking for a man with “finance,” but a strong black man—a tough thug with a big heart for his shorty—a rapper who was all about her and “reality.” (Blige’s collaboration with Method Man on “I’ll Be There for You/You’re All I Need to Get By” cemented this connection.) The other parachute was made by Teddy Riley, whose mid-’80s production smuggled street goods into the tunes he recorded for artists like Keith Sweat, Johnny Kemp, and Guy. This new approach, blending the sound of hiphop realism with R&B vocals and themes, would eventually be called New Jack Swing.
After Mary J. Blige, women R&B singers made it a must that a rapper make a guest appearance on a tune and bless it with what they had a monopoly on—street cred. Teddy Riley simply tried to blur the borders between the two: It’s street (check out the big
in the ’90s (“Remember the Time” is no “Billie Jean,” but it is undoubtedly the last good tune of MJ’s dazzling career), and no Wreckx-N-Effect’s “Rump Shaker”—a tune that appropriated Public Enemy’s Islamicsounding call-to-war, call-to-the-streets, call-to-the-gods horn for the purpose of rapping about the pleasures of anal penetration. Riley has even dabbled in K-pop with a computer program called Rania (the group has no less than seven sexy singers). But of all the songs that have been associated with this great producer, none is closer to my heart than Guy’s “My Fantasy.” That is the moment when Riley is very close to the immaculate escapism of black elegance:
“It’s just a fantasy/Image in a magazine/I’ve seen her face before/Her body walks out of my door.” I’m a purist. I like my hiphop to be hiphop and my R&B to be R&B.
Respond to Reaganomics at THESTRANGER.COM/MUSIC
Louisville, Kentucky, mountain man Jim James (aka Yim Yames) has an unassailable transcendentalism about him. He’s rootsy and Zen, and he has a resonant, yodelthroated mine shaft of a singing voice. With James’s first solo full-length, Regions of Light and Sound of God, the My Morning Jacket frontman has become a bit of a Southern mystic. His songs swim through expansively altered folk and gospel, each possessing its own calm, rich, tidal sensation. James could not meet me at Electric Tea Garden for an interview, so he sent his holographic interview persona instead. On hand was idiotechno DJ/hologram-interpreter Frankie Crescioni, who was preparing his next set of dankwave by experimenting with water-droplet sounds autotrophing through arena-sized delays. Hologram James and Crescioni hit it off immediately. Meatcliff, Seattle’s wisest corgi, was also there. James called for a meditation—the two sat crosslegged on the floor in front of the sub with their eyes closed. James’s mountainous mane and Crescioni’s flowing rat-tail fluttered from the vibration like a breeze off the Sulu Sea. Opium incense was near. I asked James questions, Crescioni spoke for him, softly.
Where did you learn to sing like you’re yodeling in a mine shaft? My grandfather was a great coal miner in Betsy Layne, Kentucky. On his one day off, he liked to go there to assert his dominance over the miners, and sometimes he’d bring me.
What are your thoughts on jam bands? I’d say all music starts in some sense as a jam—one member has an idea, and the rest must figure out a way to support and be supported by that idea. I feel like all jam bands could be good, potentially.
What is your favorite Lynyrd Skynyrd song? “Rituals for the Dying 5 AM.”
You first sang for a mumblecore band. How did you transition from mumblecore to yodeling? By understanding the core needs of what an audience wants to hear.
Talk about coal mines again and how that informs Detroit, your musical approach, and the human heart. In the past couple of years, I’ve been getting deeper into meditative experiences. I’ve also been trying to think beyond My Morning Jacket as the be-all and end-all of music. It really started with a performance we had in Detroit a few years back, where I ended up getting a little drunk and separating from the band, somehow ending up at an afterhours warehouse party where alienating but simultaneously comforting beat-driven music was playing. I later learned that it was a spot where the infamous Detroit group Ultradyne would test out new rhythmic strategies on unsuspecting people. The music was so loud that I thought about how much better people would be if they only had hearts. That way, we would all just be piles of muscles that pump life, rather than being these complicated humans who do a bunch of things that kind of contradict each other. Like if you think about old Roland drum machines and how simple they were, yet
when they are dialed in through the right EQ settings, they can speak to an audience that wouldn’t maybe normally want to understand machine music. As much as I want to say it’s needless, it’s not—to remind people of Detroit’s influence on the world. In particular, groups like Underground Resistance, Shitcluster, Dopplereffekt, and A Number of Names really shaped Afrofuturism with a cynical, satirical critique of American/European cultures that really spoke to me, the son of a coal miner in Kentucky. But considering how many computers are existent in the world, it’s good to be relaxed about it—I mean, look at the Ensoniq Fizmo.
Who is a DJ that should be getting more attention? [At this point, the meditative gravitation of the water sounds begins taking over. Meatcliff stares at me like he’d known me in a previous life, when we lived in the sea as jellyfish. Meatcliff yearned for no pulled pork then. Sitting next to Jim James, there was a peace about him, as he reflected back to his gelatinous floating life with no central nervous system.] I pay attention to DJ TLR from Creme Organization—he is probably one of the best DJs in the world, and yet he doesn’t receive nearly as much attention as he should for opening people up to the true nature of meditative music. He’s based in the Netherlands and is regarded as a true prophet of the nature of posthumanism. Plus, I once attempted to buy bath salts off of him, but he wouldn’t sell them to me because
he could tell that they would prevent me from writing “Victory Dance.” As far as USbased music, I think it’s important to pay attention to Hieroglyphic Being, Traxx, D’marc Cantu, Holly Herndon, and Ron Morelli.
Is writing victory dances your guilty pleasure? As far as guilty pleasures come, I’ve been a big fan of Denny Blazin Hazen. The normalcy of Average Homeboy reminds me of the pleasure of playing a show where you don’t remember anything past the first chord. You know? It’s not like you’re performing an act, it’s just something beautiful and natural like the sunset.
What’s your passion? I’m fairly into anime pillows.
Did you see the cover of the latest In Touch magazine with Kim Kardashian? There’s a close-up of her underarm fat. They zoom right in on her underarm folds to make it look like a vagina. There’s an arrow pointing at it. Her arm-fold vaginas make it hard for me to not imagine some sort of sexual encounter, fulfilling an urge I have to wear multiple sex-device epaulets on my shoulders. I’d pretend I was going to fight a sex war—not a bad war, but a fun, pillow-fight, sex-type war. I think about erotic battle a lot… Read the rest of this interview at THESTRANGER.COM/MUSIC
HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COAST SWING, BACHATA, WALTZ, TAP, LINDY HOP, HIP HOP, SALSA, TANGO, WEST COAST SWING, EAST COASTSWINGBACHATAWALTZTAPLINDYHOP
WEDNESDAY 5/8
Traveling around this country in a big-ass black van makes me miss Seattle, but also makes me think hard about it. On one hand, it’s blessed to have money in its corner, and scads of it—some of this country of ours I’m seeing looks beaten to the curb, abandoned, sucked dry. Our city is a vital, shining metropolis in comparison. But on the other hand, it’s also well on its way to becoming another soulless corporate whore to the rich and unimaginative, policed by jackbooted, accountability-free servants of outside interests. This is happening everywhere, even within hiphop. Whether it’s condos, parking lots, blogs, or rap media, there’s a homogenized, regionless one-worldorder-ass perspective emerging (via trustabusing “content providers”) that obeys money and has generally agreed-upon rules of conduct. Fuck that! Keep the spirit of this place alive. Stand in the place where you live, chump. As big bro from Shabazz Palaces said: “Do not go to where all these followers are leading you.”
Hiphop culture is so mainstream, it’s got its own reality-show stars. Look at Joe Budden—11 years ago, thanks to a great mixtape and a hot Just Blaze–laced single, I was hype on this dude (“10 Minutes,” off his disastrously sequenced debut LP, will forever have my respect). About a million Beijing spray jobs on his beard line later, I’m off that—now he’s in the modern-day Coliseum that is the reality-show reunion special, getting punched in the back of his head by Consequence, hiphop’s MVP weed carrier. Welcome to your culture, y’all. Anyway, he’s at Neumos on Thursday, May 9.
Go see a performance that will make you immensely happy, like Teddy Riley & Blackstreet at Showbox Sodo on Friday, May 10, with DJ Kun Luv. Support this so that Mr. Riley doesn’t have to rely on making K-pop to keep his name out there, no dis to any of my friends who are killing it in the Korean pop world (shouts to Cha Cha Malone). Machine Gun Kelly is probably going to pack out the Neptune on Sunday, May 12. You can be there if you like, and if you do, then smash this 64-ounce Red Bull first, bro! YEAH! EXTREME! What the drilly with that though? That ain’t bangin’. In other words, save your shekels for one of rap’s greatest groups—the infamous Mobb Deep. I gotta salute Havoc and Prodigy for owning up to the falling-out they had last year; it’s real to acknowledge that instead of trying to play it out via PR reps on some Twitter-hack bullshit. All that is behind them in time for their 20th anniversary tour, coming to the Crocodile on Tuesday, May 14—so what better time to properly appreciate the icy chamber of dead-hearted criminal-activity rap that they refined in the best years of the 1990s and beyond. They promise rare album cuts in the mix, too—I hope they’re looking at a couple hours stage time. Joining them: the “Blackhearted” CD generalissimo Fatal Lucciauno, and heavily buzzed-about but rarely seen or heard young Seattle MC Porter Ray. I’ll be fresh off tour for this one, so kindly buy me a Hennessy, then leave me alone? Jokes, people—I drink Jim Beam.
PORTABLE SHRINES PRESENT: THE LAURELS (AUSTRALIA)
WOODEN INDIAN BURIAL GROUND ECSTATIC COSMIC UNION
9PM $6
THURSDAY 5/9
CEROTINY “ALBUM RELEASE PARTY” SONG SPARROW RESEARCH THE THOUGHTS 9PM $6
FRIDAY 5/10
FEED THE FRICTION
LONGSTRIDE SUNSHINE JUNKIES 10PM $8
SATURDAY 5/11
LAURA STEVENSON
FIELD MOUSE SEAPONY
10PM $12 ADVANCE $14 DAY OF SHOW SUNDAY 5/12
GREENHORN BLUEHORN COTTON
8PM $6
TUESDAY 5/14
WESTERN RED PENGUINS
FRENCH LETTERS BASEMENT BABY 8:30 $6
KURT VILE & THE VIOLATORS
HILL
WILSON + BLAKKSOUL + DJ MR. NYICE GUY
Anna Minard claims to “know nothing about music.” For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.
I have a relationship to Radiohead that consists mainly of confusion and fear. I’ve heard of them, and I even went out and bought Pablo Honey when I was a teenager. I just didn’t like it, and that was it. Then they became the Jesus of music and the world shitted itself every time they took another step, and it freaked me out. I never followed up—I used to avoid music that I thought I’d be embarrassed if I didn’t understand. (I’m curing that impulse weekly now.)
When we started this column, I just assumed someone would eventually assign me Radiohead. Right?! But so far the contents have tended more toward old-school music learnin’ and haven’t caught up with the hip kids of the new millennium. So I asked for it. Kid A was decreed, and I went home with determination (and some trepidation). It was a mostly silent sit-down couch listen; no running errands with headphones, no sorting laundry, no leaving the room for a minute. I listened to it like I was watching a movie, or waiting to be saved.
And honestly, I’m a little disappointed; buildup can do that to you. I totally see how people think this is brilliant. Sometimes it sounds like thoughts before they happen, or like the space between awake and asleep. Voices are slightly or majorly robot-ed; computers that sound like bells and drums that sound like tapping fingertips slip in and out. It’s not boring. It just mostly sounds like a computer trying to teach itself how to cry. I like my feelings realer and bigger. I really like “The National Anthem”; I’m a sap for songs constructed like that—repetitive undergirding, melodies layered over it, with some human voice sounds that at least approximate words flying on top. When it turns into jazzy improv horn farts and orchestrasplosion, I’m less on board, but I can stay on that bass backbone and it carries me through. Then the horns scream like elephants and I’m back in the fun zone!
10/10 Marky Ramone's Blitzkreig with Andrew W.K. on Vocals
6/19 Cayucas • 6/20 John Grant • 6/21 Colin Stetson • 6/23 Frankmusik • 6/26 Giraffage + Mister Lies • 7/3 Juan MacLean
My favorite part of listening to this was not feeling like an asshole just because I didn’t love something other people love. I get so nervous about fucking up at music sometimes, I get sick to my stomach. I’ve spent so much time tongue-tied, or lying, or apologizing. But now I’m excited most of the time. And when I’m scared I’ll say something embarrassing, I just take a deep breath and think of the people who send me crazy CDs in the mail or the last time I got a music reference I would’ve missed a year ago—like this week, at the Croc, when I sat under the picture of Andrew Wood and realized I knew who that was. I screamed a little bit. I give this a “free to be you and me” out of 10.
ARK OF THE COVENANT THOSE WHO FEAR | RAT PATH PHANTOM LORD | REGIONAL FACTION MON MAY
PRESENT lee oskar and friends orchestra
SUN/MAY 12 • 7:30PM in dreams: a live tribute to the legendary roy orbison with special guest james apollo and the sweet unknown
BOOTIE PROM! 5/18 JAI HO! 5/21 WHITENY LYMAN 5/22 DA’DAEDAL RARE NIGHT OF IMPROV LORD DYING 5/25 TALCUM 5/26 SLASHED TIRES 5/30
6/11 DEATH BY STARS 6/14 AM & SHAWN LEE 6/17 PONY TIME 6/23 THROWING SHADE LIVE
MON/MAY 13 • 7:30PM david knopfler & harry bogdanovs w/ jenn grinels
L ose your spaceship made of LSD every night this week! For the full music calendar, see page 47 or visit thestranger.com/music For ticket on-sale announcements, follow twitter.com/seashows
Os Mutantes (Triple Door) See Stranger Suggests, page 23.
UV Race, Life Stinks (Barboza) Australia’s UV Race sound like they have a fetish for Rough Trade Records’ early-’80s roster— a wholly worthwhile fetish, in my tattered book. What that means is they favor disaffected, fuck-off vocals; scrappy, barbed-wire guitar riffs; chintzy, fairground keyboard coloration; and hypnotic, ramshackle rhythms. Fans of peak-time Fall, Swell Maps, and Blue Orchids should not miss them. San Francisco’s Life Stinks probably named themselves after that Peter Laughner–penned Pere Ubu song, and what few tracks by them I’ve heard recall a slightly less nihilistic Flipper. Their riffs spiral downward with a staunch crunch, giving off solid negative energy. DAVE SEGAL
The Laurels, Wooden Indian Burial Ground, Ecstatic Cosmic Union (Sunset) It’s a good night for great Australian rock bands (see UV Race blurb, above). Sydney quartet the Laurels have been making resonant ripples in the psychedelic underground with their Plains album. It’s a shiver-inducing blend of trippy shoegaze rock with lysergic-cotton-candy melodies and mellow male/female vocals that sound like extended, distant sighs. The playability factor’s sky-high. Portland’s Wooden Indian Burial Ground ramble in the greased-lightning zone between garage rock and psychedelia. They took the elevator to the 13th floor and made it look seedy. Get to the Sunset early for Ecstatic Cosmic Union’s bliss-toned, floatingin-space jams. DAVE SEGAL
Foot Village, Clipping, Haunted Horses
(Black Lodge) Have you ever seen LA’s avant-noise freaks Foot Village? The new “drum-and-shout” four-drummer, zero-guitar, two-megaphone band made up of former members of Friends Forever and Gang Wizard? Neither have I! Open-minded fans of groups like Lightning Bolt, Boredoms, and Wolf Eyes will happily take marching orders from this stripped-down, almost tribal-sounding hardcore experiment. More mainstream-minded people, and probably any and all of Death Cab for Cutie’s fans, will run away screaming. KELLY O
Joe Budden, Neema, Feezable the Germ, JKey, Aquino, DJ Swervewon (Neumos) See My Philosophy, page 41.
Javelin, Helado Negro, Jamaican Queens
(Barboza) Brooklyn-based cousins George Langford and Tom Van Buskirk’s past releases as Javelin have been quirky blends of bouncing beats and grooves made up of homemade sounds from samplers, thumb pianos, drum machines, and other instruments. For their latest release, Hi Beams, the duo ditches their DIY approach for a more traditional—and, unfortunately, much less interesting— studio-recorded pop sound similar to a sea of other Brooklyn indie acts. The new approach could, however, translate much better to a live setting. South Florida’s Helado Negro (aka Roberto Carlos Lange, who’s collaborated with Guillermo Scott Herren— aka Prefuse 73—as Savath y Savalas) makes his own brand of homegrown tropical pop that soothes
rather than bores with its breezy, sun-bleached sound and overdubbed, reverb-tinged, (mostly) Spanish vocals. MIKE RAMOS
Black Breath, Rotten Sound, Heiress, Baptists (Highline) The Boss HM-2 Heavy Metal effect pedal aside, Black Breath and Rotten Sound share a crucial component that sets them apart from their peers: They both know how to groove. Granted, many a metal band has taken the groove too far, as evidenced by Max Cavalera’s entire post–Chaos A.D. career. Groove can be dangerous. But even as Black Breath migrated away from the Swedish-metal chug of Heavy Breathing into the thrash tactics of Sentenced to Life, they retained an infectious rhythmic foundation. Rotten Sound’s formula hasn’t changed over the course of their last several releases, but why fix it if it ain’t broken? The Finnish grind band is one of the few bands of the genre to employ any sort of percussive dynamic; their ability bury a sharp groove in their machine-gun tempos should serve as a template for all blast-beat enthusiasts. BRIAN COOK
Cloud War, Garage Voice, Andy Fitts (Crocodile) Before hearing even a note of Cloud War’s music, I’m intrigued by their songwriting process. The band’s frontman, Barry Uhl, writes stories before he writes songs, and only after a collection of stories are written do they get turned into lyrics and put to music. They’re like a ragtime-y Decemberists. You can hear the results of their literary approach for yourself at cloudwar.bandcamp.com.
MEGAN SELING
Tineke Postma Quartet
(Seattle Art Museum) What should you do after work today? You should head down to Seattle Art Museum and check out the hauntingly beautiful jazz of Dutch saxophonist Tineke Postma. Her quartet is performing between 5:30 and 7:30 pm as part of the Art of Jazz series, which is in its 17th year. The way Postma blows is either direct like an unadorned wall or spooky like a ghost. Sometimes, she becomes so intense that it’s like watching a person walk through a wall or pass a mirror without casting a reflection. However, Postma, who has released five albums (the
most recent of which being The Dawn of Light), never plays outside of the stable tradition of modern jazz (1947 to 1969). She knows how to explore without getting lost. CHARLES MUDEDE
Teddy Riley & Blackstreet (Showbox Sodo) See preview, page 37, and My Philosophy, page 41.
Zombie Nation, Nordic Soul, Recess (Q) See Data Breaker, page 51.
Phil Western, Manos, Kadeejah Streets, Rhines, Night Train (Electric Tea Garden) See Data Breaker, page 51.
Laura Stevenson, Field Mouse, Seapony (Sunset) See preview, page 35.
Nonsequitur’s Tribute to Lawrence “Butch” Morris
(Chapel Performance Space) The American jazz cornetist, composer, and conductor Butch Morris died at the end of January, at the age of 65. He introduced the idea of “conductions,” a type of structured improvisation in which he’d direct an improvising ensemble by offering hand and baton gestures—a cross between pure classical and pure jazz. Nonsequitur’s tribute features improvised conductions for a large ensemble, led by Wayne Horvitz and JA Deane. JEN GRAVES
Seattle Rock Orchestra Performs the Beatles (Moore) As a child, I thought the Beatles were a kids’ band. Those four guys on the cover of my dad’s Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band records, with their costumes and rainbows and songs about being a walrus, were the equivalent of today’s Wiggles or Yo Gabba Gabba!
characters, and I fucking loved them. As an adult, I know they’re not a kids’ band; they just took a lot of drugs. Tonight, the Seattle Rock Orchestra will tackle two of the most memorable records of my childhood, bringing in guest vocalists John Roderick, Sean Nelson, Hanna Benn (of Pollens), Tamara Power-Drutis, and more, for a program that includes “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” and “Penny Lane.” It’ll be great. There is also a 2 p.m. Sunday matinee performance. Take your mom! She’d like that. MEGAN SELING
The Gary Minkler Combination, the Bellow Brothers, Red Dress (Royal Room) In 1977, when Kurt Cobain and the gang were still in grade school, the highly influential Red Dress were formed in Seattle’s avant-art underground. Fronted by odd genius Gary Minkler (who will also be playing cuts from his new Little Trailer Ruby album with another band tonight) and backed by a free-form band of talented pre-flannelers, Red Dress mix R&B with Beefheart-esque storytelling and totally out-there lyrics. EMILY NOKES
Seattle Rock Orchestra Performs the Beatles (Moore) See Saturday.
Machine Gun Kelly (Neptune) See My Philosophy, page 41.
Kurt Vile and the Violators, the Fresh & Onlys, Steve Gunn (Neumos) You’re probably going to this show for Kurt Vile and the Violators, and that’s cool. Their new album, Wakin on a Pretty Daze, is aural peace, executed with articulate slackness. But you should make a serious effort to hit Neumos for opener Steve Gunn. He’s a guitarist of uncommon soulfulness and melodic grace. If he were coming of age 45 years earlier in Britain, he’d be contending with Bert Jansch, Michael Chapman, and John Renbourn for pastoral psych-folk supremacy. Gunn’s forthcoming Time Off
album proves that there’s still juice left in this idiom, when the picker/singer is as skilled as he is. Gunn’s pantheon-bound guitar eloquence is aglisten with profoundly peaceful and beautiful vibes. Absorb ’em. DAVE SEGAL See also Stranger Suggests, page 23. Of Montreal, Wild Moccasins (Vera) I’m so curious as to how the over-the-top pop spectacle Of Montreal is going to fit into Vera’s mama-bear-sized space. But however it happens, hooray! I know it’s popular to scoff at Of Montreal’s increasingly electronic efforts, but shhh, they’ve always been neat—even as mid-’90s Elephant 6 youngsters jingling out songs that were a step above indie nursery rhymes. Always skewing psychedelic, OM, somewhere along the way, started to sound as though they had locked themselves in a spaceship made of LSD and recorded until it hurt; the contents of frontman Kevin Barnes’s beautiful tie-dye brain are best experienced on Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? and Skeletal Lamping—still some of the best albums to feel “I’m way too high to be dancing, but whatever” to. EMILY NOKES
Richard Thompson Electric Trio (Showbox at the Market) Thanks to revelatory local shows by Patti Smith and Prince, 2013 has announced itself as the Year of the Elder Statesperson, and now it’s Richard Thompson’s turn to keep the theme going. This should be no problem, as Thompson’s never less than stellar musically and is forever generous about lacing contemporary sets with eternal classics. According to online set lists, tonight’s show will include a few key numbers from his new record, Electric, along with a bunch of gems from his solo and “and Linda” years. DAVID SCHMADER
Colleen Green, So Pitted, Blooper, White Fang (Heartland) Solo bedroom-pop-maker and sunglasses-wearer Colleen Green captured our hearts with her first few extremely lo-fi releases—Cujo, Green One, and Milo Goes to Compton—all of which were made from the same extra-simple-drum-machine/
Colleen Green Monday 5/13 at Heartland
stoned-sweet-vocals recipe and are extremely likeable. Green’s newest full-length, Sock It to Me, has even more to like, and it keeps her laid-back themes of fuzzy heartache/love floating around unpolished while stepping up her pop game up to a new level of blown-out, ’80s-synth-assisted melodies. With upbeat garage-poppers Blooper, and the noisy, scruffy, slightly uncomfortable/fully enjoyable So Pitted. Bring your bestie! EMILY NOKES See also Underage, page 53.
Black Angels, Hanni El Khatib, Wall of Death (Neptune) The Black Angels hit the map eight years ago with a self-titled EP on Light in the Attic Records. Their sound—drone-y psych rock that sounds as if it’s been calculatedly transported from the 1970s—didn’t change a whole lot over three subsequent records. That’s different with this year’s Indigo Meadow. True, the traditional psych-rock signifiers are still present, but the tempos are amped up and the song lengths are truncated. In general, things here lean toward the Angels’ poppier tendencies, and it’s another fine brick in a solid, if not particularly groundbreaking, discography. Still, the Angels are known more for their live performances than for their songwriting, and by far the best way to experience this stuff is via one of their heady and impressive multimedia performances. GRANT BRISSEY
Mobb Deep, DJ Topspin, Thaddeus David (Crocodile) We must not forget that A Tribe Called
Quest’s Q-Tip essentially discovered Mobb Deep rappers Prodigy and Havoc. This fact is important because it reminds us of the diversity that long ago departed from hiphop. In those days, a rapper at the center of a vital love movement in hiphop could promote a pair of rappers at the center of a very violent movement. These days, gangster rappers only know other gangster rappers. Also, you will not find current gangster rappers who are as brilliant and artistic as Mobb Deep were during their moment in the sun—between 1993 and 1997. Though their second album, The Infamous, is a masterpiece, its lead single, “Shook Ones (Part II),” is what made Havoc and Prodigy immortal. (It was even covered by Everlast.) Indeed, “Shook Ones” formed the foundation for Mobb Deep’s third and greatest album, Hell on Earth. The gothic facade of “Shook Ones” was transformed into an entire cathedral on Hell on Earth, a cathedral in which we saw not the stories of saints, but those of hyperviolent street thugs. CHARLES MUDEDE See also My Philosophy, page 41.
OCnotes, WD4D, Jason Justice, Ohmega Watts, Introcut, absoluteMadman, Suntonio Bandanez, Kid Smpl (Lo-Fi) See Data Breaker, page 51.
The Round: Daniel Blue, River Giant, Mary Lambert (Fremont Abbey) There’s a reason there have been 95 installments of the Round—it’s consistently awesome. Every month since 2005, Fremont Abbey has brought together musicians, poets, and painters for an earnest evening of collaborative art making. Something magical happens when talented individuals are all thrown together in front of a small but appreciative crowd. I’ve seen a haunting Nirvana cover and a joyous XTC cover. I’ve been hypnotized by brushstrokes, watching local painters spontaneously create as the live music inspires them. I’ve heard some impassioned, smart spoken word that made me reassess the often-disregarded art form. Even if you aren’t familiar with any of the names involved when you first walk through the door, you’ll leave with lasting impressions. MEGAN SELING
www.nectarlounge.com
5.9 Thursday (Hip Hop) OPIO
Highdro, Graves 33, Jewels Hunter, Shorte, Double B
$10adv / $12dos, 8pm, 21+
5.10 Friday (Funk/Afrobeat) WESTSOUND REUNION
“Lucky Mystery Now” Orchestra feat LUCKY BROWN & members of POLYRHYTHMICS
Unsinkable Heavies, Lucky Brown and the Bucks, Rippin’ Chicken, and more... $8adv / $12dos, 8pm, 21+
5.11 Saturday (DJ/Dance) Team9er Presents: Total Request Live Night DJ Indica Jones and Moynilectric Playing music from the TRL Era... Plus A Top 10 countdown from your requests! 9pm, $5 before 11pm, $7 11pm-close, 21+
5.14 Tuesday (EVERY 2nd & 4th TUESDAY!) KaraokeGrass!!! Karaoke Hits performed live in Bluegrass Style feat. Todd & Paisley Gray (of Pickled Okra) and friends... NO COVER, 7pm doors, 8pm-11pm Karaokegrass!!, 21+
5.15 Wednesday (Ska/Reggae) The Originalites The Approach, The Hooky’s $5adv / $7 door, 8pm, 21+
MOBB DEEP
Fatal Lucciauno & Porter Ray, Thaddeus Turner, DJ TopSpin 21+
Bushwick Book Club presents Original music inspired by Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma / The Botany of Desire 21+
Kosha Dillz, Slow Dance
5/28 VANGUARD 5/31 WESTERN HAUNTS ALBUM RELEASE 6/1 HEAD LIKE A FLY MOON NISSIM 6/2 TRASHOLES 6/6 CASEY VEGGIES & TRAVI$ SCOTT 6/7 PHAROAHE MONCH 6/8 LOGIC 6/9 CRYSTAL FIGHTERS 6/14 THE COUP 6/15 HALLOQUEEN & DUDLEY MANLOVE QUARTET
6/16 SHELTON HARRIS & TYLER DOPPS 6/18 TORRES 6/19 EMILY WELLS 6/21 MEALFROG 6/22 EARLY: SCHOOL OF ROCK: ZAPPA LATE: COME REUNION SHOW 6/27 THE BAD THINGS 6/28 MUSICARES BENEFIT 6/29 AYRON JONES AND THE WAY & THE STAXX BROTHERS
7/2 DAN CROLL 7/7 BOB LOG III 7/13 PASSENGER 7/23 HEARTLESS BASTARDS 8/24 NEAL BRENNAN 8/29 GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV
Elvis Lives: Guests, 7 pm, $25-$55
2 BIT SALOON Grindline, Last American Badass, Situation Normal, Omega Moo 418 PUBLIC HOUSE Claudio Rochat-Felix, guests, free BARBOZA UV Race, Life Stinks, 8 pm, $10
a BLACK LODGE Foot Village, Clipping, Haunted Horses , WAMu COMET Wiscon, Patitude,
$5
a CROCODILE Secret Chiefs 3, 8:30 pm, $20/$30
a EL CORAZON Living With Lions, Elude, No Choice, 7:30 pm, $10/$12; Abriel, the Kari Ehli Band, 8f pm, $8/$10
HIGH DIVE Smith’s Cloud, Buffalo Tongue, Bent , 8 pm, $6
HIGHLINE Anhedonist, Mutant Video, Bone Sickness
HIGHWAY 99 Louisiana Houseparty: Guests
JAZZ ALLEY Cyrille Aimée and Diego Figueiredo, $20.50
NECTAR St. John and the Revelations, Paula Boggs Band, Jeremy Serwer, 8 pm, $5
NEUMOS The Good Husbands, Ra Scion, Mike Champoux, 8 pm, $5
PARAMOUNT THEATER
SHIP CANAL GRILL The Cantaloupes, 7:30 pm SUNSET TAVERN The Laurels, Wooden Indian Burial Ground, $6 TRIPLE DOOR Os Mutantes, 7:30 pm, $28/$35 VERMILLION Tag: YourYoungBody, Megasapien IG88, guests, 8 pm
DJ
BALTIC ROOM DJ Rome, Rozzville, Zooty B, Antartic THE EAGLE VJDJ Andy J
ELECTRIC TEA GARDEN Passage: Jayms Nylon, Joey Webb, guests
HAVANA SoulShift: Peter Evans, Devlin Jenkins, Richard Everhard, $1 LAST SUPPER CLUB Vibe:
Jame$Ervin, DT, Contagious MOE BAR The Hump: DJ Darwin, DJ Swervewon, guests, 10:30 pm, free NEIGHBOURS Undergrad: Guest DJs, 18+, $5/$8
Q NIGHTCLUB DJ Martini, free SEE SOUND LOUNGE Fade: DJ Chinkyeye, DJ Christyle
WILDROSE 2nd Hand: Mother Church, Pavone, free
LIVE
2 BIT SALOON Chad Cook, Old Death Whisper, the
THE ROYAL ROOM Tunnel Six, 8 pm, $5-$15
SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB
John Wayne Guns, Yevtushenko , Hunter Destroyer, 8 pm, $6
a STUDIO SEVEN Into the Flood, Wrath of Vesuvius, Lord of War, guests, 6:30 pm, $8/$10
SUNSET TAVERN Cerotiny, Song Sparrow Research the Thoughts , $6
TRACTOR TAVERN The Sebastians of Bremen, Cloud Person , Solvents , $6
a TRIPLE DOOR Seattle
Secret Music Showcase: Guests, 7:30 pm, $25
a VERA PROJECT The Music Tapes, 9:30 pm, $13.50/$15
THE WHITE RABBIT Marmalade, $6
DJ
Buffalo Stagecoach, guests
BARBOZA Javelin, Helado Negro, Jamaican Queens, 8 pm, $12
CAFE RACER Operadisiacs
CAN CAN Vince Mira
COLUMBIA CITY THEATER Theoretics, Hot Bodies in Motion, Fly Moon Royalty, 8 pm, $20/$25
COPPER GATE Fu Kun Wu Trio, 8 pm, free CROCODILE Cloud War, Garage Voice , Andy Fitts, 8 pm, $8 a EL CORAZON Of Us Giants, Skyline Divine, Leadership By Assault, 7:30 pm, $8/$10
a FREMONT ABBEY Grand Hallway , Night Tapes, Drew Victor, Keith Abbott, 8 pm
HIGH DIVE The Piniellas , Martha Dumptruck, the Finger Guns, 8 pm, $6
HIGHLINE Black Breath, Rotten Sound, Heiress, Baptists, $12
HIGHWAY 99 James King and the Southsiders JAZZ ALLEY Lalah Hathaway, 7:30 pm, $28.50
THE KRAKEN Wartown, Wilt, Frustration, Crime of Morality, $5
NECTAR Opio, Highdro, Graves 33, Jewel Hunter, Shorte , Double B, 8 pm, $10
NEUMOS Joe Budden, Neema, Feezable the Germ, JKey, Aquino, DJ Swervewon, $17.50-$50
RIP, BUS STOP
L
ots of people packed into the tiny, hot-’n’-sweaty Bus Stop last Tuesday night to drink the bar dry. I want to say, in official memoriam: Bus Stop, I will miss you. So many bars are closed and/or closing (see also the Alki Tavern in West Seattle, the Viking in Ballard, the Broadway Grill, and soon the Canterbury on Capitol Hill). I don’t have enough space here to even start discussing Seattle’s rampant condo cancer, but I would like us to have a moment of silence for these very excellent funtime places. KELLY O
DRUNK OF THE WEEK …BELOW POSTER OF THE WEEK …49 THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA …49 DATA BREAKER …51 UNDERAGE…53 = Recommended
BALLROOM DJ Rob, free
THE EAGLE Nasty: DJ King of Pants, Nark
HAVANA Sophisticated
Mama: DJ Sad Bastard, DJ Nitty Gritty
LAST SUPPER CLUB Open
House: Guests
LO-FI London Loves: Reverend of Rock, $3
MOE BAR Saucy: DJ Rad’em, DJ 100 Proof, free
NEIGHBOURS Jet Set
Thursdays: Guest DJs
NEIGHBOURS
UNDERGROUND The Lowdown: DJ Lightray, $3
Q NIGHTCLUB Drama Thursday: Sean Majors, Bgeezy, Blue Eyed Soul, James Ervin, Erich Brown, Josh Quest, Dr. Fever, free
SEE SOUND LOUNGE
Damn Son: DJ Flave, Sativa Sound System, Jameson Just, Tony Goods, $5 after 10:30 pm
TRINITY Space Thursdays: Rise Over Run, DJ Christyle, Johnny Fever, DJ Nicon, Sean Majors, B Geezy, guests, free
LIVE
2 BIT SALOON Vile Display Of Humanity , Hammered Grunts, the Assasinators, Toxic Reign
BARBOZA Kisses, Trails and Ways, 7 pm, $13
CENTRAL SALOON Rusty Cleavers, Devilwood, Lee Rude
CROCODILE Richie Spice, ZJ Redman, DJ Gallis, 8 pm, $20
DARRELL’S TAVERN The Shivering Denizens, the Disco Cowboys, Boxcar Rebellion, $6
a EL CORAZON The Bitter Roots , Late September Dogs , guests, 8 pm, $8/$10, Anchoress, Rat Path, 8 pm, $8/$10
FREMONT ABBEY Cahalen Morrison, Mighty Squirrel, 9 pm
HARD ROCK CAFE Eros, Arisen From Nothing , In The Between, Tsavo $10/$13
HIGH DIVE The Swearengens, the Brambles, the Purrs, Cabana, $8
HIGHLINE Dude York, the Pytons, We Are Golden HIGHWAY 99 The Love Dogs, the T-Town Aces
JAZZ ALLEY Lalah Hathaway, 9:30 pm, $28.50
THE MIX 25 Cent Ride, Monkey Bat, Silky Sam NECTAR The Lucky Mystery Now Orchestra with Lucky Brown, 8 pm, $8
NEUMOS Cody Beebe & the Crooks, Eclectic Approach, Eternal Fair, Daniel Kirkpatrick & the Bayonets, 8 pm, $10
RENDEZVOUS Stillstand, 10 pm a THE ROYAL ROOM
A cuddly mess of insecurities; Derek enjoys over-sharing about his personal failures, fears and, sometimes, the most intimate details of his secret thoughts. He has toured with Patton Oswalt, Brian Posehn and his debut album “Holy Drivel” was recorded by iconic metal producer Matt Bayles (Minus the Bear, Mastodon, Isis) and is available from Rooftopcomedy.com. Lindy West of Jezebel.com has called him “A Human Hug”.
This simple but charming poster—by Wild Arms’ Luke Matkins—grows on me more and more each time I pass it on the street. ’Tis the season when Seattle poster art (hopefully) gets a little more playful. AARON HUFFMAN
The Appleseed Cast w/Hospital Ships, Wild Arms Sun May 12, Chop Suey
Sam Boshnack Quintet, the Jefferson Rose Band, 8:30 pm, $5-$15
SHOWBOX AT THE MARKET
Flight to Mars, Poor Moon, McCready & Friends, $20/$25
a SHOWBOX SODO
Teddy Riley & Blackstreet
featuring Dave Hollister, DJ Kun Luv, 8:30 pm
SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB
The Sweet Dominiques , the Wampas, Charms , 8 pm, $7
a SORRENTO HOTEL
Katrina Kope, Tim Kennedy, Paul Gabrielson, 7:30 pm
SUNSET TAVERN Feed the Friction, Longstride, Sunshine Junkies , 10 pm, $8
TRACTOR TAVERN Tom Odell, guests, $12/$14
a TRIPLE DOOR Paula Cole, 8 pm, $30-$40
DJ
95 SLIDE DJ Fever One
BALLROOM DJ Tamm
BALMAR Body Movin’: DJ Ben Meadow, free
BALTIC ROOM Bump Fridays: Guest DJs
BARBOZA Just Got Paid: 100proof, $5 after 11:30 pm
CENTURY BALLROOM Century Tango: DJ Anton, 9 pm, $10
CUFF C&W Dancing: DJ Harmonix, DJ Stacey
ELECTRIC TEA GARDEN
Digging Deep: Ramiro, Jeromy Nail, Derrick Deepvibez
FUEL DJ Headache, guests
HAVANA Rotating DJs: DV One, Soul One, Curtis, Nostalgia B, Sean Cee, $5
LAST SUPPER CLUB Madness: Guests
LO-FI Electro Swing Circus: DJ Stormcleod, DJ Everefree, $8/$10
NEIGHBOURS DJ Richard Dalton, DJ Skiddle
NEIGHBOURS UNDERGROUND Caliente Celebra: DJ Polo, Efren
SATURDAY 5/11
TAMMIE BROWN: COMING TOGETHER Drag queens! Holy Mary Mother of Pearl Cream, we’re just crammed full of the damn things, aren’t we? Covered in them! Like warm and occasionally bitchy quilts that can’t be trusted with the cooking sherry. Some people blame it all on RuPaul, some blame the dawning of the Age of Aquarius or what-thehell-ever (has that fucker dawned yet or not? I’m so cosmically confused…), some blame fluoride, and most people blame Obama, but it’s wall-to-wall tuckage around here, that’s for damn sure. Tonight’s featured queen comes to us all the way from the faraway land of Corpus Christi and the faraway time of RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 1 (Jesus—Jinkx must have been in diapers). Her name is Tammie Brown (but really she’s a dude called Keith), and she is a pistol is what. She sings, she dances, she quips—she makes videos in which she sings and dances and quips! She’s a singy-danceyquipper if ever one did singy-dancey-quip, and she is one of the most endearing
PONY Hussler: Guests, free Q NIGHTCLUB Flash: Zombie Nation, Nordic Soul , Recess, $10
SEE SOUND LOUNGE Crush: Guest DJs, free TRINITY Tyler, DJ Phase, DJ Nug, guests, $10
WILDROSE Lezbro:
L.A. Kendall, Tony Burns, 9 pm, $3 THE WOODS Deep/Funky/ Disco/House: Guest DJs SAT
LIVE
2 BIT SALOON The Of, AAIIEE!!, Radio Shark BARBOZA Born Ruffians, Moon King, 7 pm, $12 a BENAROYA HALL Ten Grands Seattle: Guests, 7 pm BLUE MOON TAVERN Not Amy, No Rey, Sam Watts, Ghosts I’ve Met CAFE RACER Ayron Jones a CAIRO Indignant Senility, Crystal Hell Pool, Black Hat, 8 pm
CENTRAL SALOON The Kevin James Hoffman Band, Garret Whitney, Amanda Hardy a CHAPEL PERFORMANCE SPACE Nonsequitur’s Tribute to Lawrence “Butch” Morris: Wayne Horvitz, JA Deane, $5-$15
CHOP SUEY Vicci Martinez, Xolie Morra & the Strange Kind, Jamie Nova, 9 pm, $12
COMET Dog Shredder Great Falls, Spacebag, Big Trughk, $6
CROCODILE Falling Blind Carson Henley, DJ Johnny Fever, 7:30 pm, $25
DARRELL’S TAVERN Big Wheel Stunt Show, the White City Graves, Lady Lux Burlesque, $7
a EL CORAZON Topless, Free, Monsters Scare You, Pink Bead, guests, 7 pm, $10/$12
ELECTRIC TEA GARDEN
Drop: Phil Western, Manos, Kadeejah Streets, Rhines, Night Train, $10 after 10:30 pm a EMPTY SEA STUDIOS Zak Borden, Simon Lucas, Peter Fung, 8 pm, $12/$15 FULL TILT ICE CREAM Keith Cook, free a HEARTLAND Oh! Pears, No Grave, Scarves, Craig Salt Peters
HIGH DIVE Braxmatics, Richie Aldente, Unibroz, DJ Funky Rey V, $10
HIGHLINE Meisce ,
Mischief Brew, Murmurs, Nu Klezmer Army, $8
HIGHWAY 99 DK Stewart & His Sextet
JAZZ ALLEY Lalah Hathaway, 9:30 pm, $28.50
THE KRAKEN 26000 Volts,
Dept of Martyrs, Event Staph, Bowling with Strangers, $5
THE MIX Amalgamation, Say Banzai, the Hard Way a MOORE THEATER
Seattle Rock Orchestra performs The Beatles: Guests, 8 pm, $20/$22.50
NECTAR Mealfrog , 6 pm, Donation
a NEPTUNE THEATER The Infamous Stringdusters, 8 pm, $18/$20
a NEUMOS IAMX, Moto Boy, 8 pm, $15
QUEEN CITY GRILL Faith Beattie, Bayly, Totusek, Guity, free
RENDEZVOUS Slow Bird, Dust Moth, Here Come Dots, 10:30 pm
a THE ROYAL ROOM The Gary Minkler Compilation, Bellow Brothers, Red Dress, $5/$15, Piano Royale, 6 pm
a SHOWBOX AT THE MARKET Sara Bareilles, 8 pm, $36.50/$39
a SHOWBOX SODO Pentatonix, 7 pm, $25/$28
SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB
Bigfoot Accelerator, Rocket Surgery, Jori & the Push, 8 pm, $7
STUDIO SEVEN Van Halen Tribute Night: Genes Addiction, Cheaper Trixx, the New Originals, 7:30 pm, $12/$15
SUNSET TAVERN Laura Stevenson, Field Mouse, guests, 10 pm, $12/$14
TRACTOR TAVERN Eilen Jewell, Joy Mills Band, 9:30 pm, $15
a TRIPLE DOOR Lee Oskar and Friends Orchestra, 7 pm, $25-$35
DJ
BALLROOM DJ Warren
BALTIC ROOM Good Saturdays: Guest DJs
BARBOZA Inferno: Guests, 10:30 pm, free before 11:30 pm/$5 after CUFF DJ Almond Brown
HAVANA Rotating DJs: DV One, Soul One, Curtis, Nostalgia B, Sean Cee, $5
HEARTLAND CAFE & BENBOW ROOM DJ Cotton Candy, DJ Christophett, DJ Deep Parris, free LO-FI Emerald City Soul Club: Kenny Mac, Gene Balk, Marc Muller, Alvin Mangosing, Mike Nipper, 9 pm, $10
MOE BAR Panther Down: DJ
faces of Drag Race to date. Barring obvious recent developments. Ahem. Re-bar, 10 pm, $18 adv/$22 DOS, 21+.
MONDAY 5/13
JINKX MONSOON: THE RPDR 5 CELEBRATION PARTY
I’m kind of glad the whole fucking thing is over, quite frankly. (Just HOW much excitement can one little ’mo’s nervous system handle? I ask you.) It’s been a long, looooong (too long?) and bizarre and twisted and whiny and drinksy and sometimes pretty snarky and mean journey (thanks tons, ROXXXY), watching our little Jinkxy float to the top of the Drag Race pile like a hooker weave in a hurricane. Such talent! What compassion! Such alluring charms! So tonight will be the LAST NIGHT EVER that we have to pack ourselves into Julia’s on Broadway (where the service is high—on life!) like impoverished Pringles just to ooooh and aaaaaaah at the magic that is Jinkx kicking ass in Drag Race. This marks the real and for-true end—she won! And tonight we’re gonna drink like dehydrated sailors. Julia’s on Broadway, 8 pm, $35 adv, 21+.
N8, Anthony Diamond, free
NEIGHBOURS Powermix: DJ Randy Schlager
NEIGHBOURS UNDERGROUND DJ Chance, DJ Eternal Darkness
PONY Glitoris: Queen Mookie, Devil Eyes: Q NIGHTCLUB Rapture: Almond Brown, $10
SEE SOUND LOUNGE Switch: Guest DJs
TRINITY ((SUB)): Guy, VSOP, Jason Lemaitre, guests, $15/free before 10 pm
VERMILLION Flux: DF Res , guests, free THE WOODS Hiphop/R&B/ Funk/Soul/Disco: Guest DJs
SUN 5/12
LIVE CAFE RACER The Racer Sessions
CHOP SUEY The Appleseed Cast, Hospital Ships, Wild Arms, 8 pm, $12
COLUMBIA CITY THEATER
Chris Staples, Andy Fitts, the Parade Schedule, Cedar and Boyer, 8 pm, $6/$8
COMET Gravelroad , Isaac Rother & the Phantoms, Joy, Mystery Ship a CROCODILE Chris Thile & Michael Daves, 7 pm, $20/$22
HIGH DIVE Seas To Skylines , Yoya, Courtney Fortune, $7 JAZZ ALLEY Lalah Hathaway, 7:30 pm, $28.50
a MOORE THEATER Seattle Rock Orchestra performs The Beatles: Guests, 2 pm, $20/$22.50
a NEPTUNE THEATER Machine Gun Kelly, 8 pm,
$26.50
NEUMOS Kurt Vile & the Violators, the Fresh & Onlys, Steve Gunn, 8 pm, $16
RENDEZVOUS Little Bigfoot, Allie Coy & Aaron J. Shay, Anja Claire, Lena Davidson, Dylan Clifthorne, 5 pm
THE ROYAL ROOM Scrape, 7:30 pm, $5-$15
SHOWBOX AT THE MARKET Richard Thompson Electric Trio, 7 pm, $36.50/$38.50
a SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB
Esoson, Lead-Based Paint, 3 pm, $5
a STUDIO SEVEN Hemlock, American Wrecking Company, Hunters of the Void, In the Pouch, 7 pm, $8/$10
SUNSET TAVERN Dutch Hare, Greenhorn Bluehorn, guests, 8 pm, $6
TRACTOR TAVERN Bronze Radio Return, Spiritual Family Reunion, Lonesome Shack , 8 pm, $10
a TRIPLE DOOR A Live Tribute to Roy Orbison: J James Apollo & His Sweet Unknown, 7:30 pm, $15/$12
a VERA PROJECT Of Montreal, Wild Moccasins
DJ
BALTIC ROOM Mass: Guest DJs THE EAGLE T-Bar/T-Dance: Up Above, Fistfight, free ELECTRIC TEA GARDEN Pvnk Masta Text, Jermaine, Chris Keys MOE BAR Chocolate Sundays: Sosa, MarsONE, Phosho, free
NEIGHBOURS Noche Latina: Guest DJs
PONY TeaDance: DJ El Toro, Freddy King of Pants, 4 pm
Q NIGHTCLUB Revival: Riz Rollins, Chris Tower, 3 pm, free RE-BAR Flammable: DJ Wesley Holmes, 9 pm
SEE SOUND LOUNGE Salsa: DJ Nick
LIVE
2 BIT SALOON Phantom Lord, Drone Strike, guests BARBOZA Splash: Watapachi, Tony Goods, Syze Matterz, Jameson Just, $10
BLUE MOON TAVERN Andy Coe Band, free a CHOP SUEY Ark of the Covenant, Those Who Fear, Rat Path, Phantom Lord, Regional Faction , 6 pm, $10
a CROCODILE Maiah Manser, Tangerine, Shogun Barbie, 8 pm, $5 a EL CORAZON Cadaver Dogs, Just Like Vinyl, 7:30 pm, $8/$10
a HEARTLAND Colleen Green, So Pitted, Blooper, 8 pm JAZZ ALLEY Ballard High School Jazz Bands, $20 a NEPTUNE THEATER
The Black Angels Hanni El-Khatib, Wall of Death, 8 pm, $21.50/$25
THE ROYAL ROOM The Syrinx Effect, Ask the Ages, 8 pm, $5-$15
SUNSET TAVERN the Archelons, Godzillian, Myrnidon, 8 pm, $6 a TRIPLE DOOR David Knopfler & Harry Bogdanovs with Jenn Grinels, 7:30 pm, $20/$25 THE WHITE RABBIT
BY DAVE SEGAL
FRIDAY 5/10
ZOMBIE NATION: LIKE AN EXPLOSION IN A VIDEO ARCADE
If you know the FLASH aesthetic—highenergy electro and tech-house hedonism that doesn’t insult your intelligence— then you’ll realize that Germany’s Zombie Nation (aka Florian Senfter) is an ideal headliner for the weekly event run by Nordic Soul (Decibel founder Sean Horton) and Recess. His new album, RGB, is an inventive, infectious collection of tracks that are as likely to make you dance as they are to inspire gawping at the assemblage of strange noises wreathing them. It’s a departure from Zombie Nation’s best-known cut, 1999’s “Kernkraft 400,” a 130-bpm Teutonic techno stomper, moving closer to his ZZT collab with Tiga, “Lower State of Consciousness.” If off-kilter funkiness with a surfeit of mangled video-game FX is your bag, Zombie Nation will fill it up. Q Nightclub, 8 pm, $10 adv, 21+.
SATURDAY 5/11
PHIL WESTERN’S BOOB-OSCILLATING TECHNO
Vancouver producer Phil Western’s a techno tripmaster, a dude who probably dosed to Pink Floyd’s pre–Dark Side of the Moon output while tinkering with 808s. Tonight’s show is the release party
Michael Shrieve’s Spellbinder, $6
DJ
BALTIC ROOM Jam Jam: Zion’s Gate Sound, $5
BARBOZA Minted: DJ Swervewon, 100proof, Sean Cee, Blueyedsoul, free CHOP SUEY Tigerbeat, 10 pm, free
COMPANY BAR DJ Plantkiller, 8 pm, free
CONOR BYRNE Get the Spins: Guest DJs, free HAVANA Manic Mondays: DJ Jay Battle, free
THE HIDEOUT Introcut, guests, free LO-FI Jam Jam: Zion’s Gate, Sound Selecta, Element, Mista Chatman , $5
THE MIX Bring Your Own
Vinyl Night: Guests, 6 pm
MOE BAR Minted Mondays: DJ Swervewon, 100proof, Sean Cee, Blueyedsoul, free NEIGHBOURS UNDERGROUND SIN: DJ
Keanu, 18+, free PONY Dirty Deeds: Guest
DJs
Q NIGHTCLUB Reflect, 8 pm, free
LIVE
CAFE RACER Jacob’s Posse
CHOP SUEY Bright White
Lightning, Circuit Vine, Lightning Kills Eagle, 8 pm, free
COPPER GATE The Suffering Fuckheads 8 pm, free
CROCODILE Mobb Deep, DJ Topspin, 8 pm, $18-$65 a EL CORAZON Dr. Drug
for Western’s new EP, Ghost in Your Boobs (yup), on local crew Innerflight’s imprint. The sound’s not nearly as cringeworthy as the title implies; instead, it’s low-friction, stardusted techno that that graduated with honors in science fiction from the University of Tarkovsky. With Manos, Kadeejah Streets, Rhines, and Night Train Electric Tea Garden, 10 pm–4:30 am, free before 10:30 pm/$10 after, 21+.
INDIGNANT SENILITY’S DESOLATE ANTI-LULLABIES
Indignant Senility (aka Pat Maherr, who also records extremely warped hiphop under the name DJ Yo-Yo Dieting) creates some of the era’s most foreboding ambient music—last-human-on-earth antilullabies. Check out Consecration of the Whipstain, which makes the Caretaker’s catalog seem like radio jingles. Another Maherr strategy involves severely deflating Wagner’s opuses into mellifluous murmurs. Don’t tell the composer’s estate, though. With Black Hat and Crystal Hell Pool Cairo, 8 pm, $5, all ages.
TUESDAY
OCNOTES’ ALIVE WITH PLEASURE! RELEASE PARTY
It appears that notoriously prolific Seattle producer OCnotes is not moving to Portland (for now). Good. That means we can enjoy the release of his new Alive with Pleasure! EP (Care Package) in the welcoming confines of Lo-Fi, the city’s finest incubator of avant hiphop. This is Otis Calvin’s take on trap music, and he imbues those gritty street sounds with the sort of jittery rhythmic verve and outré melodiousness for which he’s renowned. Four more jewels in OCnotes’ heavy crown. With WD4D, Jason Justice, Ohmega Watts, Introcut, absoluteMadman, and Suntonio Bandanez Lo-Fi Performance Gallery, 9 pm, $5/women free before 11 pm, 21+.
Thu 5.9
Fri 5.10
Sat 5.12
Thu 5.15
Team Up for Nonprofits: THEORETICS
Hot Bodies in Motion Fly Moon Royalty 7pm / $20 adv - $25 door
Stripped Screw Burlesque presents: UNDRESSED TO KILL
8pm / $22 adv - $28 door
CHRIS STAPLES
Andy Fitts
The Parade Schedule Cedar and Boyer 8pm / $6 adv - $8 door
LAURA MARLING 8pm / $20 adv - $25 door
MAY 31
TESS HENLEY (Record Release Party)
EVERY TUESDAY
Open Mic in the Bourbon Bar 7:30PM
EVERY WEDNESDAY
Absolute Karaoke 9PM
EVERY THURSDAY
Hip Hop in the Bourbon Bar 9PM
EVERY SUNDAY
Movie Night
Great Food and Drinks Specials Available for Private Events 21+
and the Possible Side Effects, Savage Henrys, the Waywards, Benedict Awesome, 7:30 pm, $8/$10
a FREMONT ABBEY The Round: Daniel Blue, River Giant , Mary Lambert , 8 pm
HIGH DIVE The Technicolors, Fictionist, Ghost Town Riot, 8 pm, $8/$10
JAZZ ALLEY John Hammond, 7:30 pm, $22.50 LO-FI Stop Biting: OCNotes, Kid Smpl, WD4D , Jason Justice, Introcut, Ohmega Watts, Absolute Madman, $5
NEUMOS Dru Hill, Tiffany Wilson and Audiosuite, Zach Bruce, the Way, Blakksoul, DJ Mr. Nyice Guy, 8 pm, $25
a PARAMOUNT THEATER Of Monsters and Men, 8 pm, $35
THE ROYAL ROOM Burns, Harper, Gibson, Goodhew, Mouth of Gravity, 8 pm, $5-$15
a STUDIO SEVEN Krisiun,
Aborted, Arsis, Autumn’s End, Devils of Loudun, Solum, 6 pm, $14/$15
SUNSET TAVERN Western
Red Penguins, French Letter, guests, 8:30 pm, $6
DJ
95 SLIDE Chicken & Waffles: Supreme La Rock, DJ Rev, free BLUE MOON TAVERN Blue Moon Vinyl Revival Tuesdays: DJ Country Mike, A.D.M., guests, 8 pm, free THE EAGLE Pitstop: DJ Nark
HAVANA Word Is Bond: Hoot and Howl, $3 after 11 pm
MOE BAR Cool.: DJ Cory Alfano, DJ Cody Votolato, free
NECTAR Top Rankin’ Reggae: DJ Element, Chukki, free
NEIGHBOURS UNDERGROUND Vicious
Dolls: DJ Rachael, 9 pm, $5 WILDROSE Taco Tuesday: Guest DJs
BY JACKSON HATHORN
MONDAY 5/13
COLLEEN GREEN, BLOOPER, SO PITTED, WHITE FANG
I spend a lot of time by myself. I go to the movies alone, take solo trips, and see as many concerts on my own as with other people.
Without delving too much into a freshman-level survey course of the introverted personality type, sometimes my aloneness doesn’t faze me; other times I feel like I missed the day of school where you learn how get over your fear of rejection and find the nerve to call someone. I don’t know if Colleen Green also missed that day of school. What I do know is that with Sock It to Me, Green has made a bedroom-punk masterpiece—and my favorite album of the year.
Green sings jittery, melodic, and multifaceted anthems about being alone, but she never wallows in her vulnerability or isolation. She sings about the indeterminate aloneness of having heavy shit on your mind and the loneliness felt while watching other people who seem to have it figured out. Green sings a lot about boyfriends and the astonishment of finding someone who likes you back, but there’s always a distance: He might be noncommittal, or too cool, or never close enough to her.
Green is modestly armed with tried-and-true power chords, a drum machine, and some slacker/stoner vibes. A lo-fi buzz hangs around Sock It to Me, giving it an airless and almost suffocating quality that masks its intensity; some might suspect that Green isn’t “trying hard” enough here. But throughout the album you can hear just how hard Green is struggling to achieve a semblance of normality
The best songs start as brazen pop-punk gems, before falling in on themselves, stripping away into Green’s pleading and yearning refrains. I don’t think any other musician could package this much self-loathing and make it this catchy.
And just because this album is a great soundtrack for rolling around on your bedroom floor, it shouldn’t give you an excuse for skipping out on the show tonight. Bring yourself or bring a friend. With Colleen Green, you’ll find that being alone can be exhilarating, and maybe not so lonely. Heartland, 8 pm.
Enlighten us, but make it quick.
Thursday, May 16, 2013 Cash-only Bar at 6:30pm Challenge at 7:00pm Talks at 8:00pm
$5
THURSDAY MAY 9TH | EARLY & LATE SHOW
THE MUSIC TAPES PRESENT: THE TRAVELING IMAGINARY
$12.50 ADV $14 DOORS
SUNDAY MAY 12 | 7:30 PM
WAKE UP & THE VERA PROJECT PRESENT OF MONTREAL, WILD MOCCASINS $18 ADVANCE
WEDNESDAY MAY 15 | 7:30 PM
PROFESSOR BLASTOFF LIVE WITH HOSTS TIG NOTARO,KYLE
DUNNIGAN AND DAVID HUNTSBERGER SEATED SHOW, LIMITED CAPACITY
$19 ($18 W. CLUB CARD)
FRIDAY MAY 17 | 7:00 PM THE SHEDS LO’ THERE DO I SEE MY BROTHER BURN BURN BURN
$8 ADV $10 DOORS
WEDNESDAY JUNE 19 | 7:30 PM THE FRONT BOTTOMS WEATHERBOX
$11 ($10 W. CLUB CARD) ADVANCE
SUNDAY JUNE 23RD | 6:00 PM
VERA PROJECT & TAKE WARNING PRESENTS
GEOFF RICKLY (OF THURSDAY) VINNIE CARUANA (OF THE MOVIELIFE)
$10 ADV / $12 DOS
ALWAYS ALL AGES
BY PAUL CONSTANT
Agaudy digital 3-D adaptation of The Great Gatsby with a soundtrack by Jay-Z could easily be the punch line to a million bad jokes about the sad state of modern American culture. But
then, The Great Gatsby was in its own way the punch line to the sad state of American culture in the 1920s, which means Baz Luhrmann’s hundred-million-dollar-plus adaptation of the book makes a little more sense. And at least every goddamned red cent that Luhrmann spent is onscreen here—Gatsby’s opulent parties that open the picture are as over-the-top and impossibly extravagant as you’d expect, since they’re directed by the guy who brought you Moulin Rouge! (Luhrmann uses the 3-D to its utmost, too, adding depth and enlivening every visual detail; this is one of those rare experiences where it’s worth shelling out the extra cash for the 3-D version.)
The basics of the book are all here. Tobey Maguire stars as the creepy Nick Carraway, the passive voyeur who lives to tell the tale. “Nicky, I know you like to watch,” someone tells Carraway early in Gatsby, and Maguire’s twisted smile in response perfectly brings out the innate not-rightness of someone who’s happy to set his married cousin up with his enigmatic wealthy neighbor without much moral introspection whatsoever. Carraway inserts himself into the relationship of Daisy Buchanan (Carey Mulligan, as insanely watchable as ever) and Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio, more about him later) with aplomb. And Gatsby needs Carraway there, too, as a sounding board or maybe just as a witness. Daisy’s husband, Tom (Joel Edgerton, exquisitely all raw nerves), isn’t quite dumb enough to not notice that something’s going on. As in the book, terrible things happen.
The one thing that Luhrmann instinctually understands is that The Great Gatsby is
packed with creepiness. Carraway leers on the outside, looking in. Gatsby treats Daisy like a human doll, and his enormous mansion is nothing so much as a gigantic time machine with which he plans to remake the universe in his own image. Tom toys with the lives of the poor like a petulant, horny Greek god. And the modern American God is in there, too, represented as a pair of eyes on an abandoned billboard. “God sees everything,” we are told a few times by characters lost in clouds of their own boozy breath. That’s because God is creepy. And then you turn around and see a theater full of people wearing cheap sunglasses staring raptly at a screen, sometimes reaching their hands out to touch the threedimensional images that don’t really exist in front of them, like Gatsby standing on a pier trying to capture a distant green light in his hand, and Luhrmann’s obvious point grabs you by the nose and screams in your ear. This is America. We’re all creeps.
Luhrmann’s point screams in your ear. This is America. We’re all creeps.
Django Unchained and his self-aware, puffed-up performance as Gatsby, is doing the best work of his career right now. The triad of DiCaprio, Maguire, and Mulligan make the first time their characters are all under one roof—the world’s most uncasual casual tea party—into a brilliant comedic scene. Later, the tension erupts in a most satisfying manner as Gatsby (in a silly but fabulous powder-pink suit) and Tom go at each other like preening boys on a playground. It’s less an argument about a love triangle and more a pissing contest between old money versus new. These are smart performances that encourage you to forgive the occasional mistake, like Luhrmann’s unfortunate failure to script Daisy out to a full three dimensions, or a stupid effect where words swirl around the screen as Carraway bangs on his typewriter, or a severely diminished supporting cast.
Gatsby is not a subtle movie—you get the sense that Luhrmann would spit and screech and hide behind his black velour cape if you ever even mentioned the word “subtle” in his presence—but it’s not a bad movie, either. If you resign yourself to the inevitable fact that not even half of the book’s intricacies survive the adaptation, you can relax and enjoy what did make it to the screen. And there’s a lot to enjoy.
Specifically, you can bask in the delight that is Leonardo DiCaprio, who, with the one-two punch of his villainous turn in
Some will go see The Great Gatsby just so they can complain about it. I’m sure someone will tear the soundtrack to shreds, even though it’s not overdone at all—a few Jay-Z couplets tossed in here and there to accentuate the excess, a zippy little “Crazy in Love” cover thrown on top of a scene for a lightening effect—and scores of Gatsby purists are doubtlessly squirming in anticipation of pulling the movie apart to demonstrate their love of the text. But Shakespeare is reinvented on a daily basis all over the world; surely Fitzgerald’s sturdy little book can withstand the weight of a gilded elephant dancing around on it for a while? It is, after all, a hell of a show.
Comment on this review at THESTRANGER.COM/FILM
More reviews and movie times: thestranger.com/film
LIMITED RUN
THE ANGELS’ SHARE
Ken Loach, a leading socialist director, has made a film that is so far from reality that it can only be described as a fairy tale. The film is by no means bad—Loach’s direction of characters (a group of Glaswegian petty criminals who are sentenced to community service) and subject matter (how this group finds hope in learning about the production and culture of high-end whiskey) is masterful. But the film’s plot—in which a Glasgow street punk magically becomes a more sophisticated connoisseur in a few weeks than rich men who’ve been in the business for decades—is pure fantasy. (CHARLES MUDEDE) SIFF Cinema Uptown, Fri 5:15, 7:15, 9:20 pm, Sat-Sun 3, 5:15, 7:15, 9:20 pm, Mon-Tues 7:15, 9:20 pm.
BROTHERS ON THE LINE
A documentary about the Reuther brothers, three statesmen committed to social justice. Free screening! Keystone Church, Fri May 10 at 7 pm.
DECEPTIVE PRACTICE: THE MYSTERIES AND MENTORS OF RICKY JAY
A documentary about acclaimed magician Ricky Jay. Varsity, Fri-Sun 1:05, 3:10, 5:15, 7:20, 9:35 pm, MonTues 5:15, 7:20, 9:35 pm.
EDEN
Based on one woman’s real-life tale of being kidnapped and trafficked for sex, Eden is fundamentally horrifying. But thanks to director Megan Griffiths’s smarts and artistry, and the expert lead performance of Jamie Chung (which won her a best actress award at last year’s SIFF), the film illuminates its world of inhumanity in the most humane way possible, without a hint of exploitation or salaciousness. It’s a miracle. (DAVID SCHMADER) SIFF Cinema Uptown, Fri 5, 7:30, 9:45 pm, Sat-Sun 2:45, 5, 7:30, 9:45 pm, Mon-Tues 7:30, 9:45 pm.
GOLDENEYE
The only 007 film to inspire a successful video game! Central Cinema, Fri-Tues 9:30 pm.
KISS OF THE DAMNED
On a dark and stormy night, a bro author with a decidedly “Oh shit, bro, vampires!” attitude about vampires meets a hot Slavic vampire babe named Djuna in a video store. They go back to her mansion, watch a movie, get flirty, and eventually she (responsibly!) reveals that she’s a vampire and that a totally dank hookup can never be. He reluctantly goes home, but he ends up coming back the next night and, after a passionate night of forbidden shenanigans, becoming a vampire himself. His initiation process into the world of the eternally undead accounts for a majority of the film, and it turns out to mostly involve dressing like an H&M model, drinking synthetic blood at cocktail parties with other vampires, and listening to opera. They also have to hunt animals (because these vampires politely abstain from human blood), but the film relegates this gruesome detail to minor sequences. Then enters Djuna’s bad-girl sister Mimi, who kills and recklessly drinks the blood of people all the time and accounts for a significant subplot. Is this movie scary? Resoundingly: no. As someone who has seen the Twilight films, I can say that this film is basically the adult version. (KRISHANU RAY) Harvard Exit, Fri-Sun 2:30, 4:30, 7:05, 9:15 pm, Mon-Tues 4:30, 7:05, 9:15 pm.
KWAIDAN
Of the four stories featured in this highly stylized Masaki Kobayashi film, two will be shown here: “Black Hair” and “Hoichi the Earless.” Seattle Asian Art Museum, Thurs May 9 at 7 pm.
THE LAST UNICORN
A delightfully dreary animated classic with a gothic style that’s the perfect antidote to today’s Pixar bubblegum. Featuring the voices of Mia Farrow, Jeff Bridges, and Alan Arkin! Central Cinema, Wed 7, 9:30 pm.
RENOIR
There would appear to be nothing promising in a film that takes place when Renoir is creating his late nudes on the sunny French Riviera: They are kitsch for repressed pervs. Renoir is one of the most uneven artists in the history of brush to canvas. But Renoir, this new feature film by Gilles Bourdos, is actually interesting. It begins with the death of his wife, and throughout, women are far more than pretty subjects for looking at. It’s 1915, the war is ongoing, and Renoir’s injured son Jean—the eventually famous film director—comes home to convalesce. He meets Renoir’s beautiful red-haired nude model, the woman who eventually becomes Jean’s leading actress and first wife. What happens on-screen involves dappled light, yes, and a hallowed painter, but also delicately, and in few words and not too much melodrama, raises the subjects of art’s place in wartime, the early tension between painting and cinema, and the power and variety of women despite their regular flattening into a crew of fleshy nudes. Yay for the closing credits, an encouragement to seek out the real-life films that feature said model, Catherine Hessling. She died an unknown; she’s less so now. (JEN GRAVES) SIFF Cinema Uptown, Fri 4:45, 7 pm, Sat 2, 7 pm, Sun 2, 4:45, 7 pm, Mon-Tues 7 pm.
SAMURAI COP
A man who is not Jackie Chan and a man who is not Chris Tucker fight crime in a manner very similar to Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker. Which is to say, awesomely. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes GO SEE IT. Egyptian, Fri-Sat midnight.
SMALL CHANGE
Truffaut’s warm look at the lives of children, presented on 35 mm. Seattle Art Museum, Thurs May 9 at 7:30 pm.
SOMETHING IN THE AIR
See Stranger Suggests, page 23. The latest film from the great Olivier Assayas. Northwest Film Forum, Fri 7, 9:30 pm, Sat-Sun 4:30, 7, 9:30 pm, Mon-Tues 7, 9:30 pm.
THE SOURCE FAMILY
The Source family was an early 1970s Southern California commune that formed around Jim Baker, later known as Father Yod. He started a vegetarian organic restaurant on Sunset Boulevard called the Source that morphed into a community of attractive young people who saw Baker as their father. The story is told through interviews with former members and old films, photos, and recordings—making a dynamic narrative. As the movie notes, they transformed sex, drugs, and rock and roll into a genuine religious formation. (GILLIAN ANDERSON) SIFF Cinema Uptown, Fri-Tues 9:30 pm.
STARSHIP TROOPERS
“You’re some sort of big, fat, smart-bug, aren’t you?” King’s Hardware, Mon May 13 at dusk.
STIFF 2013
The Seattle True Independent Film Festival returns for its ninth year, with tons of films you’ll love and plenty of films that will make you question why God gave you eyes. Various locations, Wed-Sun. For complete schedule and showtimes, see trueindependent.org.
THE USUAL SUSPECTS
Spoiler alert: Keyser Soze. Central Cinema, Fri-Tues 7 pm.
NOW PLAYING
FROM UP ON POPPY HILL
The latest offering from Studio Ghibli concerns Umi, a teenager living at her grandmother’s boarding house for women, where she does the cooking and laundry and takes care of her younger siblings while her mother is studying abroad. From her house on the hill, she raises signal flags every morning as an homage to her dead sea captain father. Through a mysterious poem in the school newsletter, she meets a boy and gets involved in a fight to save a crazy old building. The animation is inventive
Back for its eighth year, Translations is a four-day festival of transgender cinema and art, which this year ranges from the Buck Angel film Sexing the Transman to the live multimedia performance piece Gender Failure (see Stranger Suggests, p. 23) to way beyond, with 33 offerings total. Here are reviews of three of them; for the full schedule, go to translations.strangertickets.com.
It Gets Better
This sweet, stylish, charming Thai drama follows three lightly interwoven stories of genderqueerness, found in venues ranging from a Buddhist monastery to a “ladyboy” cabaret. The plot points are the stuff of melodrama (road trip! Imperiled nightclub!), but the beautiful and quirky cinematography brings a rewarding sense of fantasy to this world of transgender protagonists, antagonists, fetishists, and friendly acquaintances.
She Male Snails
Swedish filmmaker Ester Martin Bergsmark’s feature film is described as “a mix of experimental documentary and poetic narrative,” and it’s a beautiful thing to behold. Partially a portrait of transgender author Eli Leven, the film regularly gives way to impressionistic visual poems filled with rich imagery: a baby pulling berries off a bush, various scenes of nature in all its gorgeous weirdness. Situations and dramas rise up and assert themselves occasionally, but the film’s dreamlike state is predominant and intoxicating.
Turning Back after a featured run earlier this year at Northwest Film Forum, Charles Atlas’s documentary/performance film follows the European tour of Antony Hegarty (of Antony and the Johnsons), whose stage show combines beautifully haunting music with artfully showcased women, many of whom are transgender or queer, and all of whom hold forth on their lives in behind-the-scenes interviews. It’s mesmerizing.
Translations runs May 9–12 at various locations. Full info at translations.strangertickets.com. (DAVID SCHMADER)
Got a film festival you want us to write about? E-mail festive@thestranger.com.
and the plot is nicely paced, but also a bit schmaltzy. If you like Japanese animation movies, Poppy Hill is worthy. But those looking for another Howl’s Moving Castle and its invigorating weirdness may want to skip this one.
(GILLIAN ANDERSON)
IRON MAN 3
Tony Stark is suffering anxiety attacks after saving the world at the end of The Avengers, and his nervousness manifests as a lack of sleep, a compulsion for building dozens of new suits of armor, and an inability to be close with his girlfriend. Along the way, he faces off against a menacing terrorist called The Mandarin (Ben Kingsley) and a mysterious rash of American soldiers who have somehow been transformed into weapons of mass destruction. It is a showcase for writer-director Shane Black’s talents and Robert Downey Jr.’s ability to bring life and charm to the comic-bookiest of comic-book characters. (PAUL CONSTANT)
PAIN & GAIN
and obscene overuse of filters, slow motion, and other directorial trickery work pretty well with the idiocy on display in the story. (PAUL CONSTANT)
THE RELUCTANT FUNDAMENTALIST
Tons more reviews online! thestranger.com/film
The true story of a team of lunkheaded Florida bodybuilders who decide to kidnap a wealthy deli owner and hold him hostage until he agrees to sign over his fortune. Mark Wahlberg brings his not-quite-self-aware slowness to the American-dream-believing “mastermind” of the plot, and The Rock is better as a cokehead born-again Christian than he’s been in years. Michael Bay’s coked-up camerawork
Mira Nair’s third masterpiece—her first is, of course, Salaam Bombay! , and the second is Mississippi Masala—succeeds as a political thriller (big themes, big images, big Hollywood sound), a work of global cinema (it connects several stories in very different and distant societies—USA, Turkey, Philippines, and Pakistan), and a criticism of the dominant economic form for the past 30 years (market fundamentalism). The film concerns a young, bright, and ambitious Pakistani man, Changez (Riz Ahmed), who after obtaining a business degree from Princeton enters a position in a Wall Street firm that makes its money in much the same way that Romney’s Bain does (stripping vulnerable companies of their value). Changez is on top of the world until two planes bring down the Twin Towers. Suddenly the society he loves is transformed into a society that hates him, his color, his culture, his religion. Changez returns to Pakistan a bitter and broken man but eventually becomes a popular anti-American professor at a university in Lahore. His lectures are fiery, his followers dedicated, and his commitment to Islamist politics absolute. But that is not the end of the story. There is an important surprise near the end of Nair’s third masterpiece. (CHARLES MUDEDE)
the decency to… STOP!!
BY WM. TM STEVEN
Seriously. Guys. Seriously. Just stop. Stop it, stop what you’re doing… just… STOP. I realize you think you’re doing the correct thing—but in reality? You’re doing the opposite of the correct thing, which is the wrong thing. And, as it turns out, you’re doing a LOT of these wrong things. Like what, for example? Here is a very abbreviated list.
You clip your nails at the office. While driving, you get easily confused, slow down to five miles per hour, and begin weaving in between two lanes as if you had a stroke. If you’re forced to wait for anything for more than two minutes, you start dinking with your phone. (STOP YOUR DINKING FOR A GODDAMN MINUTE AND ENJOY THE WORLD AROUND YOU!!) You use the last square of toilet paper and leave me with an empty roll, thereby forcing me to frog-walk across the bathroom to the toilet paper cubby. (I DO NOT LIKE THAT!) If you’re a kid, you’re in the mall. Go somewhere else! Adults, you’re putting too much pressure on me to perform—IN EVERY SINGLE REGARD. Even this list is pressuring me! Why can’t you just take my word for it that you are doing everything WRONG and just STOP???
At least the following TV shows are having their season finales this week. While they all may be terrible, at least they have
• Community (NBC, Thurs May 9, 8 pm): In the season finale, Jeff finally receives enough credits to graduate—but wonders if he should stay. DO NOT STAY, JEFF. In one short season, this show went from being one of the funniest on television to a big pile of “meh.” DO NOT STAY. Just… STOP.
• Glee (Fox, Thurs May 9, 9 pm): It’s time for the glee club to once again compete in regionals—though now they’re wondering if it’s worth the effort. NO, IT IS NOT WORTH THE EFFORT, DORKS. You had one good season. ONE! And every season since has been a grotesque, butt-cringing disappointment. Pack up your eyeliner, your mash-ups, and your Barbra Streisand albums, and… just… STOP.
• Survivor (CBS, Sun May 12, 8 pm): In the show’s 26th season finale… wait. Did I just say 26th?? THIS SHOW HAS BEEN ON FOR 26 SEASONS?? My genital warts aren’t even that old! Are you auditioning for this show? STOP! Are you watching this show? STOP! Are you Jeff Probst? Stop whatever it is you’re doing, Jeff Probst! Just… STOP!!!
• NCIS (CBS, Tues May 14, 8 pm): It’s a real cliff-hanger of a season finale when the Feds threaten to shut down Gibbs’s team for their unconventional (but effective) methods. Normally I’m a fan of unconventional (but effective) methods—but fuck these guys. I HATE THIS SHOW AND WANT THEM TO… STOP!!
• NCIS: Los Angeles (CBS, Tues May 14, 9 pm): The fourth season ends with a nuclear explosion—but does it kill the NCIS team? No, because they are more stubborn than my 23-year-old genital warts! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE BLOWN UP?? Stop it, all forms of NCIS! Just… just… STOP!!
BY ROB BREZSNY
For the Week of May 8
ARIES (March 21–April 19): The Tarahumara Indians of northwestern Mexico are renowned for their ability to run long distances. The best runners can cover 200 miles in two days. The paths they travel are not paved or smooth, either, but rather the rough canyon trails that stretch between their settlements. Let’s make them your inspirational role models in the coming week, Aries. I’m hoping that you will be as tough and tenacious as they are—that you will pace yourself for the long haul, calling on your instinctual strength to guide you.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): You may have only a dim idea about how your smartphone and computer work, but that doesn’t prevent you from using their many wonderful features. While you’re swimming, you know almost nothing about the physiological processes that are active inside you, and yet you have no problem making all the necessary movements. In that spirit, I’m not worried about whether or not you will grasp the deep inner meaning of events that will be unfolding in the coming week. Complete understanding isn’t absolutely necessary. All you need to do is trust your intuition to lead you in the direction of what’s interesting and educational.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): “I need not sell my soul to buy bliss,” says a character in Charlotte Bronte’s 19th-century novel Jane Eye. “I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.” This would be a great speech for you to memorize and periodically recite in the next two weeks. Do it in front of your mirror at least once a day to remind yourself of how amazingly resourceful you are. It will also help you resist the temptation to seek gifts from people who can’t or won’t give them to you.
CANCER (June 21–July 22): What is the big adventure you’ve been postponing forever because it hasn’t been convenient? How about an intriguing possibility you have always wanted to experiment with but have consistently denied yourself? Or what about that nagging mystery you’ve been wishing you had the time and energy to solve? Wouldn’t your life change for the better if you finally dived in and explored it? In the next two weeks, Cancerian, I urge you to consider giving yourself permission to pursue something that fits one of those descriptions.
LEO (July 23–Aug 22): Right now, Leo,
you are a majestic and mysterious mess of raw power. You are a fresh, flaming fountain of pure charisma. Irresistible! That’s you! Unstoppable! You! Impossible to fool and immune to the false charms of heartfelt mediocrity! You! You! You! In your current condition, no one can obstruct you from seeing the naked truth about the big picture. And that’s why I am so sure that victory will soon be yours. You will overcome the fuzziness of your allies, the bad vibes of your adversaries, and your own inertia. Not all conquests are important and meaningful, but you will soon achieve the one that is.
VIRGO (Aug 23–Sept 22): A character in Hermann Hesse’s novel Demian says the following: “I live in my dreams. Other people live in dreams, but not in their own.” Whose dreams do you live in, Virgo? What is the source of the fantasies that dominate your imagination? Are they the authentic outpourings of your own soul? Or did they originate with your parents and teachers and lovers? Did they sneak into you from the movies and songs and books you love? Are they the skewed result of the emotional wounds you endured or the limitations you’ve gotten used to? Now is an excellent time to take inventory. Find out how close you are to living in your own dreams.
LIBRA (Sept 23–Oct 22): Charles Ives was a renowned American composer who lived from 1874 to 1954. Because his music was experimental and idiosyncratic, it took a long time for him to get the appreciation he deserved. When he was 73 years old, he won the prestigious Pulitzer Prize for a symphony he had written when he was 30. I expect that in the near future, you might be the beneficiary of a similar kind of mojo, Libra. A good deed you did or a smart move you made in the past will finally get at least some of the recognition or response you’ve always wanted.
SCORPIO (Oct 23–Nov 21): “There are no right answers to wrong questions,” says science-fiction writer Ursula K. Le Guin. And that’s why you must be so conscientious about coming up with the very best questions. Right, Scorpio? All your efforts to hunt down solutions will be for naught unless you frame your problems elegantly and accurately. Now here’s the very good news: Your skill at asking pertinent questions is at a peak. That’s why I suggest you make this Focused Inquiry Week. Crisply define three questions that will be important for you to address in the next seven months.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov 22–Dec 21): Charlie Parker was a great jazz musician. As a saxophonist and composer, he was an influential innovator. Unfortunately, he also had an expensive heroin addiction. It interfered with his ability to achieve financial stability. There’s a famous story about him showing a bystander two veins
on his arm as he prepared to shoot up. “This one’s my Cadillac,” he confessed. “And this one’s my house.” I’m bringing this up, Sagittarius, in the hope that it will provide a healthy shock. Are you doing anything remotely like Parker? Are you pouring time and energy and money into an inferior form of pleasure or a trivial distraction that is undermining your ability to accomplish higher goals? If so, fix that glitch, please.
CAPRICORN (Dec 22–Jan 19): “I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good,” said iconic songwriter Woody Guthrie. “I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim or too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world.” Amen, brother Woody! I have the same approach to writing horoscopes. And I’m happy to advise you, Capricorn, that you should have a similar attitude toward everything you put out and take in during the coming week. Just for now, reject all words, ideas, and actions that demoralize and destroy. Treat yourself to a phase of relentless positivity.
AQUARIUS (Jan 20–Feb 18): “I know not what my past still has in store for me,” testified the Indian spiritual poet Tukaram. I believe most of us can say the same thing, and here’s why: The events that happened to us once upon a time keep transforming as we ripen. They come to have different meanings in light of the ever-new experiences we have. What seemed like a setback when it first occurred may eventually reveal itself to have been the seed of a blessing. A wish fulfilled at a certain point in our history might come back to haunt us later on. I bring up these ideas, Aquarius, because I think you’re primed to reinterpret your own past.
PISCES (Feb 19–March 20): According to legend, Jennifer Lopez’s butt is insured for $300 million. Bruce Springsteen has supposedly insured his voice for $31 million, and wine expert Angela Mount is said to have insured her taste buds for $16 million. In that spirit, Pisces, I encourage you to consider insuring your imagination. To be clear, I don’t anticipate that you will have occasion to collect any settlement. Nothing bad will happen. But taking this step could be a fun ritual that might drive home to you just how important your imagination will be in the coming weeks. Your power to make pictures in your mind will either make you crazy with unfounded fantasies and fearful delusions, or else it will help you visualize in detail the precise nature of the situations you want to create for yourself in the future. Homework: In what circumstances do you tend to be smartest? When do you tend to be dumbest?
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Do you love The Stranger and want to be a part of it? We are currently looking for an Account Executive to join our amazing sales team. You will build your own desk by prospecting for new leads, contacting potential clients through cold calls and drop-ins, developing relationships with local business owners and providing them with tailored, multi-platform advertising solutions best suited to their needs. Must possess superior organizational, customer service, and communication skills. Must be hard working, self-motivated, goal-oriented, and be able to thrive in a deadline-driven environment. Creativity and entrepreneurial attitude a plus! At least one year of experience in commission-based print/media sales or a related field preferred. Vehicle or vehicle access required. First year compensation includes base salary, commission and bonuses. Benefits include medical, dental, vision, Simple IRA, as well as paid vacation/sick time. If you are a fearless, personable, focused sales professional, we’d like to hear from you. For consideration, please submit your resume, cover letter and desired salary range to: salesjob@thestranger.com or The Stranger, 1535 11th Avenue, 3rd Floor, Seattle, WA 98122, Attn: Sales Job. No phone calls please.
TATTOO ARTIST WANTED
Talented tattoo artist wanted, Be well rounded with an appreciation for tattooing. 5 Years Exp, and Clean Hygiene. 206-659-4012 johnsontattoo22@gmail.com
CUSTOMER SERVICE CUSTOMER REPRESENTATIVE
$16 Base - Appt Customer Sales & Service Working 1-on-1 with customers (no door to door canvassing or cold calling) No experience required, full training provided To apply call (206) 535-2233 or online at earnparttime.com
PAID
ARE YOU SUICIDAL, but resisting harming yourself? We want to hear from you! The UW is recruiting participants for a study on suicide. Call 206-543-2505.
MARRAKESH MOROCCAN RESTAURANT in Belltown now hiring exp. Servers and kitchen helper. Evening/ weekends. For more info call (206)9560500, or apply at 2334 2nd Ave.
MCMENAMINS MILL CREEK is now hiring LINE COOKS and SERVERS! Qualified apps must have an open & flex sched including, days, eves, wknds and holidays. We are looking for applicants who have prev exp and enjoy working in a busy customer serviceoriented enviro. Please apply online 24/7 at www.mcmenamins.com or pick up a paper app at any McMenamins location. Mail to 430 N. Killingsworth, Portland OR, 97217 or fax: 503-2218749. Call 503-952-0598 for info on other ways to apply. Please no phone calls or emails to individ locs! E.O.E.
ATTENTION:
laura@501commons.org for more information.
DRUMMER LOOKING FOR band.
am 40, have experience live and studio. Have a family so looking to play in Seattle. Have played in bands ranging from heavy rock to brit pop. Style is like Dave Grohl, Dave Abbruzzese.
GREAT SAX SOLOS for your studio/live project. All styles. Call Danny Welsh at (206)501-7559 or dannywelsh@mac.com For more info and music go to: www.dannywelsh.com or www.myspace.com/dannywelshjazz
PIANIST AVAILABLE
I’m Richard Peterson, 64 year old composer, arranger, and pianist. I’m available to play parties, weddings, clubs, shows, etc. $200/gig. Covers and originals. Please call 206-325-5271, Thank You! CD available.
SAX LOOKING FOR professional minded musicians. Blues, Funk, R&B, Soul. Playing professionally for over 30 yrs. am used to commuting to Seattle, if that’s where you hail. I have a fully equipped studio for rehearsals.
SEATTLE VOCALIST/ SONGWRITER/KEYBOARDS CALL MURPHY 206 860 3534
3 - PIECE looking for motivated and well-rounded bass player. Listen @ www.alkijones. bandcamp.com. Respond via email: alkijonesmusic@gmail.com
FREE AND COMPLETE articles on Songwriting, Recording, Self-Releasing and Promoting your own songs at www.MyCD.ca
AVANT-ROCK BAND SEEKING female vocalist. We are currently drums, bass and guitar. We will be adding more instrumentation in time. Swans, My Bloody Valentine, Angels of Light, and traditional Spanish, Irish, Mediterranean, and Arabian music. No drugs. www.myspace.com/branavinix/206.547.2615
BASS, DRUMS NEEDED for a metal project in Seattle. Vicious in standard tuning. Old school thrash style. Fast as fuck. Glenn 206.331.6222 Songs at www.hevvytimerecords.com Think “Ride the Lighting”-era Metallica, but as a black metal band.
BLOODSHOT BARRELS NEED BASS TRAVEL.RECORD .SHOWS,BSBARRRELS@GMAIL. COM...206-328-2329
BLUES BASSIST WANTED. Genre: Blues and Blues influenced rock. Age and gender is not a problem. Contact Wade at wadeb2@comcast.net or call 425-422-8072. Band is Seattle based & practices are held in West Seattle on Tuesday evenings.
DRUMMER WANTED FOR experimental rock band. Swans, Big Black, Killing Joke, Black Flag, SPK, Neurosis, Tad, Live Skull, Die Kreuzen, Soriah, Savage Republic. No drugs. Material can be heard at www.rendingsinew.com. 206.547.2615/omaritaylor @hotmail.com
DRUMS WANTED - blues/rock coverband. Infl: Bonham, Kirk, Baker, etc. Please be pro, hard hitting with lots of exp. 40s+. Call for details 206-7553044 or 206-919-0514
HELLO CREATIVE DRUMMER.
Supply and the Man wants you in their band. If you are the right fit, this project will be awesomely rewarding for everyone involved. Lots of influences: Indie, math, jazz, psychedelic, hip-hop, books, dreams, etc... supplyandtheman@gmail.com
INDIE FOLK ROCK band that is established in Seattle looking for bassist/singer. Please email stanleycrescendo@gmail.com
SEARCHING FOR TALENTED
Female Bass and Female Drummer/ percussion. Vocals a plus, To perform original music and hopefully do a small tour. No Drugs or drama please. Age, 21-50 will accept guys too but ladies first for this show, Thanks
SEEKING SINGER! I’M a producer in Cap Hill looking for a female vocalist to join me for a synthpop project. You can listen to a few instrumentals and contact me via pikefruit.bandcamp.com. Let me know if you’re interested!
BAND REHEARSAL SPACE 1 Shared Room @$210/month Incl. 36hrs/ month & Private closet and Private Rooms @ $500/mo. Call 425-4459165 or Visit wildersoundstudios.com Located in SODO Seattle
FREMONT PPC SUNDAY MAY 5TH In
PACIFIC PLACE AMC
GOTH PROM
You: beautiful goth boy dressed in black and red at goth prom. saw you were with someone as equally beautiful as you, or I would have approached you. just wanted you to know that you’re gorgeous. When: Friday, April 26, 2013. Where: Mercury. You: Man. Me: Woman. #919602
VWGURUGODDESS
BELLTOWN 5TH AND BELL
I gave you my parking spot outside of your studio- You gave me your expertise on my convertible bug… I gave you my card. email me. When: Friday, April 26, 2013. Where: belltown. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919601
MINI SOMBRERO ON 15TH
5, 2013. Where: 15th Ave. in Cap Hill. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919621
DIE BIERSTUBE, FRI, MAY
3RD
You: attractive tall blond woman in a jean jacket who had her curly hair tied back. Me: tall guy with dark hair and a goatee in a salmon colored shirt. Mutual glances a number of times though talk escaped us. When: Friday, May 3, 2013. Where: Die Bierstube. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919620
SUSHI-LAND CUTIE
Umm... You’re hot. You were wearing a gray tee, scarf and high waisted jeans. I was wearing a blue hat. I tried to get my check at the same time as you but to no avail. Drinks? Sushi? More sushi? When: Wednesday, May 1, 2013. Where: Sushiland (Queen Anne). You: Woman. Me: Man. #919618
BLONDE BUYING FLOWER URN LOWES
We were both browsing for plants on May Day at the Lowes in Rainier Valley. You bought a large urn of flowers. We bantered a bit and it seemed like it could go somewhere. Let’s plant a seed or two. When: Wednesday, May 1, 2013. Where: LowesRainier Valley. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919617
STEWART STREET DANGER
CLOSE
After the protests, maybe around ten PM downtown. We were both with our respective friends at a Frenchsounding restaurant. You overheard our conversation and recommended a floor lamp. I was the one who said I’d write it down but didn’t. When: Wednesday, May 1, 2013. Where: Downtown. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919616
GIRL ON CRYSTAL CASTLES
DANCEFLOOR
You: Denim vest, shorter brown hair pulled up, brown eyes, septum piercing. Me: Green eyes, short brown hair. Wooden gauges. Green tight pants and green striped thermal. We traded smiles during a break. I regret not asking your name. When: Tuesday, April 30, 2013. Where: Crystal Castles Show at the Moore. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919614 GIRL EMBROIDERING ON
You: Christopher Birthday: May 30th. I think you’re a fisherman in Alaska? Loved the pink pajama you wore. Me: Chilean girl you met outside the bar in AK. Love to bake you a cake and wish you Happy Birthday.
When: Monday, March 28, 2011. Where: Mecca Lounge. You: Man. Me: Woman.
#919619
LOVE YOUR GREEN SHIRT
I commented that I loved the color of your green shirt! You are blonde, gorgeous, and were sitting in Obisan Sushi in Seattle Friday the 26th about 6:30 - 7PM. am tall and had a brown leather jacket on. When: Friday, April 26, 2013. Where: Obisan Seattle. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919608
GHOST CONCERT AT SHOWBOX I was the blond in the nun outfit at the Ghost concert on Saturday. You introduced yourself as Patrick. You seemed like a great guy with a great beard. Wish I’d gotten your number. Hit me back. When: Saturday, April 27, 2013. Where: Ghost concert Showbox Market. You: Man. Me: Woman. #919606
WHISKEY GINGER AT THE BROHO You offered me your whiskey ginger, and asked about my gender while we flirted in the bathroom. On the way out, I nearly bumped into you. You turned around, smiled, and gave me a big hug! You made my night! When: Saturday, April 27, 2013. Where: The Brotherhood Tavern. You: Woman. Me: Transsexual (female to male). #919605
LOWRIDER BIKE HOTTIE I saw you stop some runners (I was one of them) to save some snails from certain death. Me: girl with pink and black shoes. You: guy that has black hair and rides a very shiny and weird bike When: Wednesday, April 24, 2013. Where: ballard. You: Man. Me: Woman. #919604
PAPA MURRPYS HOLMAN ROAD
Saw you with hat and glass, thought you were funny. You left in red/blue van. Me: Blonde short hair 28ish You: baseball cap and glasses When: Tuesday, April 16, 2013. Where: Papa murphys, Holman rd.. You: Man. Me: Woman. #919600
GOOGLE GLASS GIRL I should have stopped to ask about your glasses when we walked passed each other. But I was nervous: your glasses were so sci-fi chic, mine were so last millennium. Want to talk nerdy sometime? When: Thursday, April 25, 2013. Where: On Harrison, near 13th-ish. You: Woman. Me: Man. #919599
SHANTI, CAPITOL HILL I would not ever normally use an I saw you add but saw you tonight when you were looking for the moon on Capitol Hill and I need to see you again! When: Thursday, April 25, 2013. Where: Capitol Hill. You: Man. Me: Woman. #919598
WALGREENS GUY I’ve came in twice and each time you help me. I asked for directions the other day.
BETH’S
Reading Comprehension Fail
BY DAN SAVAGE
I’m a 24-year-old straight, married female. I have been religiously reading your column in the Portland Mercury since I was 16. Thank you for explaining things that my parents wouldn’t and for helping me clear the hurdles of adolescence!
I turn to you now for advice. Five months ago, I married the man of my dreams. He was driven, hardworking, loving, and happy. We had amazing, cosmic, and connected sex, and we enjoyed pleasing each other. We have been together for a little over a year. I realize now that it was WAY too soon to get married, but I let my romantic side get the best of me, and so here we are. We are miserable. Now when it comes to sex, it’s the furthest thing from my mind. When it does happen, it’s very onesided. I rarely get off, and if I do, it’s on my own after he finishes because “it’s too much work” to get me off. That’s problem one. Problem two is that on our wedding night, he broke his foot and couldn’t work as a result. After his foot healed, he quit his job. He told me he “didn’t want to do that kind of work anymore.” So now I work an exhausting full-time job, support both of us on a salary barely big enough for one, and come home every day to a filthy apartment. Here’s what my husband does all day: plays video games and jerks off to porn. Every time I broach the subject of him getting a job or picking up after himself, all hell breaks loose. I have brought up marriage counseling, because lately neither of us is the best at respectfully communicating, and his response is “You can go, but I’m not going.” I thought about withholding sex until he finds a job, but I don’t know how big of a threat that poses as we have sex MAYBE once a week as it is. I would appreciate any advice you have for making this work, as I am not ready to give up. Too Soon To Quit
My wife and I are bi and monogamish, and we occasionally invite other swell guys, girls, and couples into our bedroom. We’re crazy liberal hippies, and thus far have fooled around exclusively with similar folks. It’s difficult at the best of times to find couples where both members are bi, so when we find one, we tend to pursue them with wild abandon. We’ve recently been corresponding with a duo that seems perfect in every regard (bi, hot, intelligent). Our problem: In their last e-mail, they labeled themselves as “compassionate conservatives,” which set off our socially progressive warning bells. Do we move on? Or do we keep politics off the table and go for it? Friends don’t let friends fuck Republicans, right?
Bisexual But Bipartisan?
I used to take a hard line on sleeping with conservatives—friends don’t let friends fuck Republicans and all that—but I’ve evolved. Today I support sleeping with conservatives… because someone has to fuck some sense into ’em. Might as well be you guys, BBB.
I have an ethical dilemma. I’m an escort and a pro Domme. I have a ridiculous sex drive (it’s silly how much sex I want to have!) and I’m single. I’m also queer. But lately I find myself mostly hooking up with dudes for two reasons:
1. I think it’s important to also have nontransactional sex with dudes.
2. It’s easier to have casual sex with dudes because I rarely get emotionally attached to dudes. Like almost never.
If I use protection with these dudes, and I’m getting tested every three months, do I owe these onetime players the truth about what I do for a living?
Sexworker Troubled Intellectually
I can’t tell you how much your letter saddens me, TSTQ.
Someone who started reading my column at age 16—and that’s just the right age to start reading my column—should’ve known better than to marry a man she’d been dating for seven short months. And someone who has been reading my column for eight years should know what to do about a useless, unemployed, inconsiderate spouse: Call a divorce lawyer
But you’re not ready to give up on this marriage, TSTQ, because an ill-advised quickie marriage is one thing (crazy whirlwind romance!), and a well-advised quickie divorce is another (sober acceptance of reality). So here’s my second-best advice for you: Move the fuck out Tell your shitty husband that you’re not ready to divorce him, but that you refuse to live with a man who doesn’t have a job, doesn’t cook or clean, and isn’t interested in talking to a counselor and working on his marriage. Tell him you’re moving out to preserve your sanity and whatever small chance this marriage has of succeeding. Once you move out, TSTQ, your husband can find a job and pay his own rent, or he can sit on the couch until his landlord has him evicted. If he gets his shit together, maybe you can stay married. If he doesn’t, well, then maybe you’ll be ready to give up.
All that said, the fact that you’re not ready to give up on this marriage ultimately doesn’t mean two squarts. Because your husband has given up on it. Your husband is making himself unbearable because he wants out. But instead of being an adult and asking for a divorce, your husband is doing everything in his power to drive you away. He doesn’t work, he doesn’t help pay the bills or clean the house, and he would rather play video games than fuck you. This is a man who—consciously or subconsciously— wants out of this marriage, TSTQ, and I predict that his shitty, inconsiderate behavior will escalate until he gets what he wants: out
People who enjoy hooking up with strangers—people who have casual one-night stands with people they don’t know and may not see again—should go into those hookups knowing these two things:
1. The person they’re hooking up with has probably done this before. As that’s the case, having sex in this context—i.e., in the context of a sleazy and fun hookup—carries a higher degree of STI risk than having sex in the context of, say, a committed relationship. Because duh
2. They need to take all reasonable precautions while bearing in mind that condoms, even when used correctly, do not provide 100 percent protection.
So, STI, as long as you’re using protection/ condoms, you’re doing right by your one-night stands. Your dudes are entitled to consideration and a reasonable concern for their well-being, and it sounds like they’re getting both. They are not entitled to your complete sexual history or your work résumé. If someone isn’t comfortable with the risks inherent in casual sex—if someone wouldn’t want to sleep with a sex worker, say, or an editor at Breitbart—that person needs to inquire as to whether the person they’ve just picked up is a sex worker or an idiot. The onus is on them.
Publishers Weekly says my new book, American Savage, is one of the “Best Summer Books of 2013.” And Amazon.com says American Savage is one of the best books coming out this month. Preorder it now!
This week on the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast): drag queens in Alabama, accidental anal skewering, and unwelcome drunk bachelorettes at savagelovecast.com.
mail@savagelove.net @fakedansavage on Twitter
Ahh! Time to get *Ahh-thorized* 24/7 Patient Verification
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ASIAN or ASIAN EGG DONORS NEEDED
Donor needed for couple #1 Japanese or Japanese.
Seeking a healthy, non-smoking woman, 20 -28 years old. Extra great match to recipient: 5’2”-5’7, good student, business minded or analytical, creative or musical. All appointments at Seattle clinic.$7,000 compensation.
Donor needed for specific couple. Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese or Japanese. Seeking a healthy, non-smoking woman, 21-30. Extra great match to recipient: 5’1”-5’5”, weight proportionate, outgoing, kind, animal loverso no animal allergies please. Appointments available Seattle, Bellevue, Kirkland, Tacoma. $7,000 compensation. 206-285-4855 Sharon@NWFertility.com www.NWFertility.com FULLY CONFIDENTIAL
Do you love The Stranger and want to be a part of it? We are currently looking for an Account Executive to join our amazing sales team. You will build your own desk by prospecting for new leads, contacting potential clients through cold calls and drop-ins, developing relationships with local business owners and providing them with tailored, multi-platform advertising solutions best suited to their needs. Must possess superior organizational, customer service, and communication skills. Must be hard working, self-motivated, goal-oriented, and be able to thrive in a deadline-driven environment. Creativity and entrepreneurial attitude a plus! At least one year of experience in commission-based print/media sales or a related field preferred. Vehicle or vehicle access required. First year compensation includes base salary, commission and bonuses. Benefits include medical, dental, vision, Simple IRA, as well as paid vacation/sick time. If you are a fearless, personable, focused sales professional, we’d like to hear from you. For consideration, please submit your resume, cover letter and desired salary range to: salesjob@thestranger.com or The Stranger, 1535 11th Avenue, 3rd Floor, Seattle, WA 98122, Attn: Sales Job. No phone calls please.
Be an Egg Donor
Are you a healthy woman in your 20’s who loves to help others, or know someone who is?
We would love to talk with you!
Generous compensation. Call: 206-515-0042 or email: DonorEggBank@pnwfertility.com
Donate Your Car, Truck or Motorcycle
Support Big Brothers Big Sisters of Puget Sound. We offer free pickup of used vehicles in most cases running or not. Tax deductible. (206) 248-5982
FREE CERVICAL CANCER SCREENING
Age: 21+. Volunteers will receive either self-collected at home HPV testing or regular Pap test screening. Up to $200 compensation for study completion. Call 206-543-3327 or e-mail homehpv@uw.edu.
HAPPY HAULER.com
Debris Removal 206-784-0313
Major credit cards accepted MEN NEEDED FOR PAID UW RESEARCH STUDY
Male social drinkers wanted for a study on male-female interactions. Single men of all ethnic backgrounds aged 21-30 can receive $15/hour for 2-8 hours (up to $120) during an office visit, and up to $75 more for completing two online follow-up surveys. Please call (206) 685-MAST(6278) for more information.
Part of a research study at the University of Washington. New! Increased Compensation for Egg Donors!
Get paid for giving infertile couples the chance to have a baby. Women 21-31 and in good health are encouraged to apply. $5,000 compensation. Email Amy.Smith@integramed.com or call (206)301-5000.
**OPEN HOUSE THIS WEEKEND**
New Light Filled Designer Town Homes
3 homes still left @ $344,950 $0 HOA! leschiwest.com*915 MLK Way South Seattle*206.718.7634
PIANIST AVAILABLE
Clubs, Weddings, Parties
I’m Richard Peterson, 64 year old composer, arranger, and pianist. I’m available to play parties, weddings, clubs, shows, etc. $200/gig. Covers and originals. Please call 206-325-5271, Thank You! CD available.
Quantum Martial Arts
2 weeks free trial 964 Denny Way, Seattle. (206) 322-4799 Quantumseattle.org
SEX OFFENDER REGISTRATION GOT YOU DOWN?
We may be able to help to remove that requirement. The Meryhew Law Group, PLLC (206)264-1590 www.meryhewlaw.com
blogs.evergreen.edu/mukbyr02/ for
