I didn’t have a chance to see Isobel Campbell, which I’m super bummed about, but I did manage to catch this typo on the official ASCAP flyers. How rude! In other news, Richard Marx, you guys. Richard Marx! Someone actually invited him to play at the festival’s music cafe! And I went! Less because I was invested in this being a great performance, and more because if you take every opportunity to do things like this – see an aging “rock star” live, two decades after their hit single was played at your babysitter’s nephew’s funeral (aww), you are nearly guaranteed to live a full life. Final verdict? It wasn’t great! But we knew that already.

 

Moving on! I did manage to catch another band whose name I never learned but who left quite an impression on me. It wasn’t the music – which wasn’t bad, per se, and actually reminded me of a band I probably would have seen performing at the (fictional) occasionally all ages venue The Bronze. They were a pretty straight forward rock band, with one notable difference, the singer, a super dorky sprite of a woman, full of amusing comments like “Feel the beats, yeah!” and “Come on, let these musics move you!”, spent half the time singing in Hindi. But it wasn’t this that left the lasting impression on me, it was watching the impression they left on other people. I don’t make a habit of spending time around people in fanny packs, soccer moms, or interpretive dancers, let alone people who are all three. Please forgive the poor angle I managed to catch with my iPhone, and allow me to submit Eric the Red in his Arizona State jersey and his inspiring fervor.