Belltown Bloom is the passion project of sisters Valerie and Veronica Topacio, and the annual music festival has blossomed quite a bit over the years. You might recognize their namesâyouâve likely seen them play across Seattle or even heard them on KEXP in their band La Fonda, a feel-good, femme-fronted, indie rock dream team. What started as a hyperlocal fest in 2019, Belltown Bloom has recently drawn in big-name acts including L7, Pussy Riot, Alvvays, and Crumb to name a few, but while the festival has grown in size and support, the Topacio sisters have maintained its DIY spirit. They're the ones painting cardboard cutouts of planets, attaching sweet little clouds to stages, or adorning walls with twinkling lights all while booking a festival that takes over all three of the Crocodile's stages. Festival-goers can bop between Here-After, Madame Louâs, and the Croc's mainstage throughout the two-day fest and catch some bands who may be playing their first show and others who are playing their 1,000th! Belltown Bloom specially curates each bill to support womxn artists, as well as those in the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities, and this year, the Topacio sisters focused in on electronic, techno, and avant-garde acts. It feels near impossible to narrow down my favorites from last weekend, but alas, here are five performances I canât stop thinking about:
Gustaf
Brooklynâs post-punk Gustaf took to Madame Louâs stage on night one. Frontwoman Lydia Gammill (self-described as a âhuman art screamerâ) commanded the audience with a loud, abrasive, refreshingly punk performance. Intentionally disheveled, Gammill leaned into the faces of attendees with contorted facial expressions and intimidating eye contact. Reminiscent of Amyl and the Sniffers and Viagra Boys, Gustaf provided the most punk set of the weekend. From the moment Gammill grabbed the mic, she turned into an unfuckwithable character you simply couldnât shy away from. Looking like the lovechild of Edward Scissorhands and Draco Malfoy, I felt mesmerized by (and maybe a little scared of?) Gammillâs stage persona. The room filled for Gustafâs highly anticipated set and I quickly understood why. One of their most popular songs, âBest Behavior,â had the crowd forcefully swaying and violently bopping their heads. While I didnât get the moshpit I was hoping for, it didnât matterâwe were all too busy being hypnotized by whatever uncontainable move Gammill made next.Â
Shelby Natasha
Shelby Natasha opened up the Here-After stage Saturday night with a wistfully beautiful set. Playing guzheng (a traditional Chinese instrument), Shelby incorporated tradition and modernity into tender moments of heartache. With the softness of Laufey and the cultural innovation of Arushi Jain, she flowed from one song to the next. If you werenât paying attention, you wouldnât have been able to tell when one ended and another began. The audience held back applause until the end of the set so as to not interrupt the delicate 30-minute experience. Under sea-colored lighting and intergalactic cutouts, Natashaâs ethereal voice was complemented by a cellist who played under the simple moniker âClark.â The Here-After took on a âlistening roomâ atmosphere and felt made for Natasha as attendees melted into the movie-theater-style seating and drifted into her uniquely lo-fi world.
Rat Queen
During night two, Seattleâs own experimental punk outfit Rat Queen opened their set with dirt, grunge, and a song that was, according to vocalist Jeff Tapia, about âgetting drunk and fucking.â (Donât tempt us with a good time, Jeff!) Every member put their whole rat-queen-ussy into the show filled with songs about sex, drugs, and mental illness, drawing bites from riot grrrl, post-punk, and whatever the hell the way. Tapia flirted with bandmates while flipping their hair and gazing wide-eyed into the crowd. Protesting the restriction and commodification of womenâs bodies, they brazenly projected âreproductive rights are human rightsâ before delving into sex-positive, body-positive songs like âScene/seen.â Rat Queen was goddamn royalty at Madame Louâs.Â
Theia
Em-Haley Walker, known as Theia onstage, trekked all the way from New Zealand for their Madame Louâs set. An alternative-pop artist, Theia didnât shy away from political anthems calling out social injustices in her home country. Backed by dance-pop beats, Theia chanted âIâm not your princessâ while dashing across stage flaunting long blonde braids and a manicure designed to slice. With aggressive facial expressions and a guttural cry to the gods, Theia performed a traditional New Zealand haka in the middle of her set. Theia, a member of the MÄori heritage, brought the audience to their knees (quite literally) at the end of the night. The crowd sat on the floor of Madame Louâs for an intimate version of her song âCreep.â Having seen the crowd jumping and punching the air several minutes prior, it was clear that Walker commanded their every move. Theia was the perfect set to close the Madame Lou's stageâgifting us unmatched energy, compelling culture, and the bravery to be your fucking self.Â
TOKiMONSTA
Hailing from Los Angeles, TOKiMONSTA (also known as Jennifer Lee), headlined the Crocodileâs mainstage Sunday night. Lee, a first-generation Korean American, is a captain in the EDM scene. Leeâs funk, rap, and R&B-inspired beats drew the largest crowd of the weekend and turned the Croc into Seattleâs hottest club for her 30-minute set. TOKiMONTAâs recent music has been particularly cathartic for the performer. Having been diagnosed with Moyamoya disease, Lee underwent two brain surgeries in 2016 which briefly left her unable to comprehend language. After two months, OKiMONSTA pushed herself to write again. Lee says the experience has made her music progressively more introspective and âprecious.â Indeed, because she implements sounds of water and wildlife into her songs, closing your eyes during a TOKiMONSTA set transfers you to a whole new universe of twangy cosmic synth. It was clear the crowd was cheering for her music, but also for her resilience and the art she has fought so hard to create.
