Big Blue Van
Not that long ago really, the world was a quiet place of singing birds and buzzing bees. One day, some silly ape accidently dropped a stone from a tree and the "thump" it made upon hitting the ground was a deep, primal sound that rattled the very soul. That ape had only one thought at that moment, "louder". Fast forward a few millennia and deep from within the bowels of a blue 1970 Grumman bread van, Big Blue Van was birthed onto the Olympia music scene, and they came to make you say, "louder". This 5-piece band is known for what can only be referred to as "prairie reggae", as in not quite reggae, not quite punk, not quite country, but mostly not Bach. The bass thumps off a sound that was born in the beer-soaked basements of the grunge scene. The guitar goes back and forth between the delay-soaked sounds of country picking and the Fuck You overdrive of a pissed-off teen in the 90s. The drums are hit with polyrhythmic subtlety mixed with the energetic vibes of a sepia-soaked, SoCal beach. When the female sings, the voice is heard more in the soul than the ears, and her bluesy growl is only accentuated by the whirr of her organ. The male will go from singing soft melodies about love lost, to screaming prose about boozy benders. One recent show-goer was heard shouting above the din saying, "Are they popular? Sort of. Are they good musicians? Not particularly. So why can't I stop dancing?!" Going to see Big Blue Van is more of a ride rather than a show, and it is proven by the smattering of loyal fans of all ages that have long been seen dancing and singing the songs that so few know.