Reunion-tour stop draws Pixies fans out for Bumbershoot's last day

Drawn by one of the biggest rock shows of the year — the Pixies reunion, on only the second date of what promises to be a memorable national tour — the crowd at Bumbershoot yesterday was decidedly rock-oriented, especially after sunset.

Many fans were disappointed, however, because they arrived too late to pick up a wristband, required for entrance to the mainstage at Memorial Stadium, where the Pixies closed out the four-day arts festival with a packed, lively show.

The wristbands were all gone by 2 p.m., according to Bumbershoot officials. Desperate fans of the pioneering '80s alternative rock group could be seen all over the grounds with signs begging for wristbands.

With the Pixies on site, the other rock shows were almost universally jammed. (Organizers estimated the crowds for the whole festival were at least as big as last year's, but no official head count was available last night.)

Lines were long, and the biggest line may have been for The Killers, a talented, stylish foursome from Las Vegas that played the aptly named What's Next Stage in the Exhibition Hall. With the lead singer in a suit, vest and tie, and the rest in T-shirts and jeans, they featured their breakthrough hit about a breakup, "Somebody Told Me," and other songs about being young and in love.

Other featured rock acts included Nick Lowe, one of the major figures of the British New Wave movement of the '70s, who performed on the Backyard Stage near the Broad Street entrance. And Seattle band Harvey Danger, a one-hit wonder for the infectious "Flagpole Sitta," celebrated its 10th anniversary with a reunion concert at Experience Music Project's Sky Church.

But everything was overshadowed by the Pixies, whose show, under cloudy skies and chilly temperatures, was opened by Northwest band Built to Spill.

Thinner of hairline and thicker of waistline, the Pixies looked a lot different than they did when they played here more than a decade ago. Their sound was tighter and more polished, but their songs were as powerful and interesting as ever, still blending fuzzy guitar rock with almost pop-like ballads.

They played lots of their fan favorites, including "Here Comes Your Man," their biggest hit, and "U-Mass," which is still timely on education and politics. Band frontman Frank Black displayed his talking/singing style in "Monkey Gone to Heaven," "I Bleed," and the slower "Wave of Mutilation."

Some Bumbershoot volunteers said this was the biggest mainstage crowd they'd seen this year; it was certainly the biggest, youngest crowd this reporter has ever seen at Bumbershoot.

Other highlights

• The Bad Plus played in the early afternoon at Bumbershoot's jazz venue, the Northwest Court Lounge. Three nerdy white guys opening with an Ornette Coleman tune should be a stretch for those not of the jazz-hipster persuasion. But as they eased into a sweet original groove, followed by head-spinning, topsy-turvy political piece called "The Empire Strikes Backward," one could see how The Bad Plus has lured even non-aficionados into the fold.

• At EMP's Sky Church, the swaying waves of Aveo's "3:33 a.m." were conducted by guitarist William Wilson's fragile, ever-so-slightly out-of-tune vocals and punctuated by a glockenspiel. Of all the bands on a Smiths bender nowadays, Aveo's approach has the most refinement and creativity, making the Seattle band much more than your average post-punk revivalist.

• On the outdoor Bumbrella stage, the two MCs of Control Machete traded fiercely rhymed Spanish with so much infectious attitude and genuine enthusiasm that the crowd couldn't help but pump their fists. With the DJ, bassist and drummer nursing the beat into a frothing fervor, the Mexican hip-hop crew alternated measured funk grooves with gruff, battle-ready jams.

• Brazilian singer Bebel Gilberto performed indoors at McCaw Hall, but her set still felt like a luxurious, sun-baked afternoon nap. Gilberto rolled us all up in her honeyed, husky voice; a low flute here, a subtle acoustic guitar there tucked us in with the same ease as the slight roll of her hips as she moved across the stage. McCaw's acoustics resonated and swelled with those flat, warm bossa nova vocals, and when Gilberto purred the word "baby," every one of us was dreaming she was talking only to us.

Patrick MacDonald: 206-464-2312 or pmacdonald@seattletimes.com Freelance writer Rachel Devitt contributed to this report.