I ran across this yesterday, check out this story.

I think it speaks for itself.

1. Don’t ride motorcycles

2. Adopt these dogs!! Look at their names. They belong here. Look at their little faces, politely asking, “Won’t you please??”

- Shawn

Three interesting facts I learned today about Ed Roland of Collective Soul when he joined me in the Carter Subaru Mountain Music Lounge:

1) It’s not always easy to make the transition from full-on rocking band arrangements to stripped-down acoustic versions of songs, but Ed made it look easy. You can hear the whole session — four songs worth! — here.

2) Women love Ed. At least women who listen to The Mountain, are my Facebook friends, and could get away at lunchtime on a Wednesday.

3) Ed can chew gum and sing at the same time. He did the entire session with gum in his mouth. I thought that was how he always operated, but he set me straight in this quick post-session one-on-one:

P.S.: You can increase your chances of getting invited to a future Lounge session by becoming my Facebook friend and following me on Twitter.

Here are my links:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/john.fisher1
Twitter: http://twitter.com/johndfisher

My sister, I shall call her DJ Silkstockings (she is allergic to wool), sent this review of U2 in Chicago. This is the sister who played my first Neil Young song and made sure my taste in music extended further than The Jackson Five. We all owe her a great debt!

Here’s her review of U2: Chicago…

Sitting in Soldier Field in Chicago with my 17 year old daughter and about 80,000 other folks, I contemplated the stage, which Nell said is dubbed “The Claw.” A claw, yes, but a claw that looks like it has just dropped down from another planet. The last song to play before the stage darkened was Space Oddity. When the spotlights came up, streaming onto Larry Mullin – pilot-like – at his drum kit, the image was complete.

From the opening chords of Breathe, U2 took the audience on a rapturous, other-worldly journey, paying homage to The Stones, The Beatles, Ben E. King (Stand by Me) the city of Chicago itself, as well as heroes of freedom and democracy the likes of Nelson Mandela, MLK and Aung Sang Suu Kyi along the way. “All you need is love … and a spaceship,” Bono told the crowd, following With or Without You.

A lengthy set list that was nothing less than a labor of love included a blend of songs from their new album (Get on Your Boots, Magnificent, and the raucus anthem I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight) and U2 classics/audience favorites (I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Sunday Bloody Sunday, Elevation, Vertigo…). The set list was crafted to take the audience to a higher plane: After a moving dedication of Walk On to Aung Sang Suu Kyi (which included dozens of volunteers holding Suu Kyi masks as they marched around the outer ring stage), Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu, projected on the 360° screen, lovingly, joyfully implored the audience to make a better world.

Summoning his inner David Bowie (or was it Elton John?) for the final encore, Bono emerged in a costume with lighted sleeves that sent rays of laser-like red light through the smoke as he belted his way through Ultraviolet and With or Without You, ending it with the lovely, introspective, Moment of Surrender.

Elated fans left the arena to the strains of Rocket Man. Thanks for the ride, lads.

————————————

Thanks, sis! For all things U2, we Stewarts know where it’s at.

- Shawn

P.S. Are you following me on Twitter yet? Tweet my way at www.twitter.com/askthemd!

And so did a lot of other dedicated and committed people who worked a lot hard than me, many riding 74 or even 92 miles. But for me, a 59 mile ride was pretty ambitious. Luckily, Saturday was a beautiful clear Northwest fall day — a perfect day for a ride. Here’s how it went:

A small part of the huge crowd of riders at the start:

Mile 19, near Acacortes — the long bridge that crosses the oyster beds:

Mile 26 — somewhere in the middle of nowhere (or in the rural area around Anacortes):

Mile 32 — Deception Pass, just before the bridge. Breathtaking!

Mile 33 — Lunch stop on the other side of the bridge at Cranberry Lake on the very top of Whidbey Island. Beautiful!

Mile 35 — Aannnddd back over the Deception Pass Bridge. They waited for a pack of cyclists to gather, then they stopped traffic and we all rode over in a pack. Cool!

Mile 48 — Last rest stop. Not too scenic, I realize. But there was great support all along the route: porta-potties, water, energy snacks, bike repair, live music. By this point, bike traffic was sparse and riders on the road were spread out a lot more. People just wanted to finish:

Mile 55 — Home stretch, between La Conner and Mount Vernon, with a glimpse of Mt. Baker in the background. The final few miles were flat as a flapjack:

Mile 59 — the finish line!

Tired but proud. And the burning question . . . . what time does the beer garden open?

The Keansters and their minders came by The Mountain yesterday, and they could not have been more professional. They even wore suits… well, sportcoats, and that was only the lead singer. Still, they looked nice.

We had some celebs of our own on hand to see this British band: Lauren Jackson of the Seattle Storm (and her mum), and the fellows playing our Music Lounge CD Release Party, Barcelona.

Here’s the band rehearsing before our star studded audience took the stage:

Think that was good? Compare it to the actual performance:

And finally, the band played my request! I love this song. It’s the 1st track on Perfect Symmetry called “Spiralling”.

And for reading all the way to the end of this post, if you’d like a signed Keane photo, I’ve got 4. Just hit me a reply with your email and we’ll work out the rest!!

- Shawn

Like many things in life, interviewing bands is a lot of hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. So when I was summoned to the backstage area behind Memorial Stadium to interview the guys from Franz Ferdinand, I was asked to hustle. And hustle I did… right after introducing The Cave Singers on the Mountain Stage at Bumbershoot.

But once I got there, I had a leisurely 45 minutes to contemplate, um, their catering. It was quite a spread with some lovely hot meals awaiting the band who were sleeping in their tour bus.

And an entire carb department.

And just in case you forgot your own, some hand sanitizer, too. Cleanliness is important on the road!

I mulled around back there, watched the guys from Modest Mouse roll in with their wives and kids, chatted with some crew folk, and got word that Alex from Franz was too busy writing their set list to chat before the show, and would I mind chatting after? But I was just about to sit down and tuck into Franz’s catering when Nick suddenly appeared with literally 5 minutes to chat and pee before hitting the stage.

Here’s what I learned in the 4 minutes I was allotted: Nick’s parents, both English, met in Seattle in the 70’s. They were married here and lived on Alki. Nick’s dad was a Boeing engineer who was laid off back when Boeing laid off like 10,000 workers. I believe the expression was something like, ‘last person to leave Seattle, please turn off the lights.’ His folks moved back to the UK and the rest… well, I’ll have to get the rest on the band’s next visit!

Nick was delighted to hear that Mountain listeners had voted ‘No You Girls’ song of the summer. Here he talks about HIS song of the summer:

Bonus points, gold stars, and my debt to whoever figures out what song it is he’s on about. I’d love to post it here! If you can decipher, let me know.

Oh! And the big pay off, Franz was great at Bumbershoot and I got to watch from right here. They can make we wait anytime.

- Shawn

I’ve become a pretty avid cyclist. I spend a lot of time on solitary rides on the Burke-Gilman, the Lake Washington Loop, etc. But this weekend I’m going to share the roads of Skagit and Island Counties with plenty of other riders. Bike MS is finally here.

The home base for this great event is Columbia Athletic Club’s Rider Village in Mt. Vernon — over 2,000 cyclists, volunteers and supporters will gather to celebrate personal victories and the collaborative movement to create a world free of MS and support those with the disease. Oh yeah, and to ride!

You can ride anywhere from 20 to 100 miles; I’m going to do 59 miles on Saturday. That’s ambitious for me, but I’ve been training, and it’s a cause I believe in. Our Mountain street team will be on hand Saturday too.

It’s not too late to join us, and it looks like the weather’s going to be way better than it was last weekend, so click the banner over on the right or click here for more details. And I’ll see you on Saturday!

He made an hour of my life disappear, but it was fun.

I caught up with “Rock & Roll” singer Eric Hutchinson at Bumbershoot on Saturday and asked him what show he’d like to see before his performance on The Mountain’s stage. He picked a guy he’d gone to college and performed with at Emerson in Boston: Justin Kredible. Justin’s not a musician or a comedian, he’s a magician. Or rather, he’s like a magician, only cooler.

Here’s Eric before the show chatting about why he chose this show for our date (and NO, it’s not because he wanted to make me disappear, or was it??):

I haven’t seen a magic show since Mike Simon’s Bar Mitzvah and things have really changed! Justin kept the crowd laughing with hip mid-magic banter. Wait, was that a way to distract us from the slight of hand?? Anyway, it was entertaining. And the finale, where he pulled an audience member’s $100 bill out of the inside of a whole orange was… magic? Whatever it was, it was great fun.

Here’s Eric after the show (just prior to getting mobbed by some lady fans) talking about his own magical powers.

So, what magical power would YOU chose?

- Shawn

In the midst of a long week of travel and Bumber-madness, I am glad to say that we have a verdict on the type of bird I saved, thanks to one of our Mountain listeners:

Hi Shawn, hope all is well!

I told you I’d check on that bird that “visited” your house by bumping into your window … and the verdict is (drumroll) it is a female MacGillivray’s Warbler. She was likely just passing through Seattle on a migration south from Canada as they are not commonly seen here. Glad you were able to give her a helping hand!
 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MacGillivra…

Cheers,
Elizabeth

Question answered! Thank you Elizabeth.

- Shawn

I had a plan for Bumbershoot (you can see it in the blog entry below this one.) Like most plans I make, it didn’t go exactly as I had . . . uh, planned. But I actually wound up seeing most of the artists on my list, at least for a little while, and a few that weren’t on my list, which turned out to be some of the best moments of the weekend.

Some of the high points for me:

Saturday

Saturday night I really scrambled. I hosted Eric Hutchinson on The Mountain’s stage at the Mural (man, the girls love Eric and his schoolboy charm), then the Old 97s on the Mainstage, then back to the Mural to introduce World Party, then back to the Mainstage for Sheryl Crow — here’s the view from the stage just before Sheryl came out:

And in between all of that, I saw my two favorite local bands — Telekinesis slammed out a set of Beatlesque power pop at EMP’s Sky Church, and I wrapped up the night at the Broad Street Stage with The Long Winters. The LW’s John Roderick is one of the unsung geniuses of Northwest rock, and the one new song they played offered a tantalizing preview of their next (way overdue) album. John’s all about irony and irreverence, but when he sits down at the keyboard and sings “The Commander Thinks Aloud,” it’s always moving and sad and inspiring.

Sunday

I began Sunday back at Broad Street because I met some guy the day before who told me if I’d never seen Seattle’s Hey Marseilles, I was required to see them. Now that I think about it, he might have actually been the manager of Hey Marseilles, but he steered me right. I’ve seen them categorized as “cabaret pop,” which is a goofy term and doesn’t do them justice. With a trumpet, violin, cello, accordion, and assorted cymbals and bass drums augmenting the usual rock band gear, they do evoke a Parisian cafe sometimes, but they weave those sounds into original and inventive pop tunes. Anywhere between seven and 11 guys are up there at any given moment, and when the crowd breaks into spontaneous clapping along or chanting or whatever, it’s never forced — it’s involuntary. I love this band.

As my Sunday musical odyssey continued, I hung out with Jodi Brothers while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs played on the Mainstage. Karen O, you shock us and amuse us. And you spit a lot of water on us in a fine mist. I showed up to introduce the Honey Brothers on the Mountain stage, and in the green room I saw that guy from HBO’s Entourage, Vincent Chase. (Real name: Adrian Grenier.) Turns out he’s a Honey Brother himself — who knew? Perhaps you did, but I sure didn’t.

I didn’t keep to my planned breakneck schedule because I hooked up with some troublemaker friends who . . . slowed me down, let’s say, in preparation for the Michael Franti & Spearhead show on the Mainstage. (That Space Needle shot just above was from that night. Would it have killed me to actually point the camera toward the stage?) The Franti show was a huge smoke-fest, the air ripe with a pungent combo of ganga, sweat, beer, and damp polar fleece. Franti is a manic force up there, imploring the crowd to jump up and down and wave their hands and sing along and yell “hey.” Love the music, Michael, but you’re the one getting paid to perform. You’re not the boss of me. Oh yeah, and Michael welcomed Jason Mraz to the stage for “Say Hey (I Love You.)” I didn’t stay for Jason’s own set, but on the other side of the city, my dog Zoe could hear the high-pitched shriek of teenage girls.

I capped Sunday off with a quick stop to see the exquisite Raphael Saadiq — sharp dresser, impeccable choreography, and songs that could’ve come from Detroit in 1967 or Philly in 1973. But even Raphael couldn’t get my tired booty to shake very much (which you wouldn’t want to see anyway) so before he pulled a Tom Jones and ripped his own shirt off, I snuck out.

Monday

This day started ominously, with torrential rains, so I stayed away until early afternoon, in time to catch Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears on our Mountain stage. Sort of in the same vein as Raphael Saadiq with more of a raw, James Brown/Wilson Pickett vibe. I dashed over to the Mainstage to catch a little of the Black Eyed Peas, and to see Fergie’s bare midriff, which was worth the trip. Back on our stage, a bit of a hootenanny with The Devil Makes Three, and a little bit of 21st century Woodstock with neo-hippie folksters the Cave Singers. The neo-hippie folkster trend in music requires at least one member of each band to grow a long beard like a prospector in the old west. Speaking of, I also caught Akron/Family, super trippy folkies who embellish their meandering, hypnotic tunes with little flutes and bells and bizarre sounds. I liked the song where the guy actually inserted the microphone in his mouth and made noises like a police siren for five minutes.

Big highlight for Monday: Franz Ferdinand on the Mainstage. I was about to plunge into the crowd (I normally do like to watch shows with the people) but I bumped into my pal Aubbie from One Reel and she snuck me up into the backstage rafters so I could see the whole thing from above:

They’re a relentless force on stage, which is fun to watch, but even more fun were the antics of the crowd. I’ve never seen an audience hold so many people up over their heads and pass them to the front of the venue. Dozens of them, non-stop. They just kept coming, and security guys would grab them at the “pit” in front of the stage, pull them over the wall, and send them back out for more. I realized that if I’d gone down in the crowd, I’d have spent the whole show with my arms up, passing screaming girls forward.

Anyhoo, those are some highlights. I left a few things out. It’s always fun to bump into random Mountain listeners, either at our booth, or just in the middle of a throng when someone comes up and yells, “Hey, aren’t you John Fisher?” — usually when I’m stuffing my face and dripping gyro sauce down my chin. Please, no photos.

I had a great time. When will my ears stop ringing?