The Dalai Lama has hope for humankind. His Holiness, the 14th reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, thinks we can make it if we put down our guns and wallets and realize that we’re all the same; we all want a warm bed at night, food for our brothers and sisters, a peaceful future for our children, and someone to hold our hand and/or light a fire under us when things get tough. The Dalai Lama believes this, despite the fact that his country has long been usurped and his people are dying. Right now, his people are dying.

If the Dalai Lama has hope, I do too.

Friday afternoon at Key Arena the Dalai Lama met with songwriter Dave Matthews, journalist Ann Curry, and a fat Seattle crowd to kick off the Seeds of Compassion event, going on right now all over the city. I had never seen His Holiness in person before, and what struck me the most was the grace and moreover the humor which radiated from his being, his very essence. Easy smiles and laughs bubbled out of the cute 72-year old man like a stream (I said it, what? A bodhisattva can be adorable). Ann Curry helped steer the direction with a good journalist’s inquisition and a bad-ass woman’s confidence while Dave Matthews, always quite the freak (the biggest complement in my book), squirmed awkwardly in his seat; his twitchy nature, bizarre facial expressions, and clothes from the bedroom floor putting all of Key Arena at ease.

The panel spoke of many facets of compassion and the room was silently respectful of the wisdom incarnate that sat in front of us, leaning forward in our seats in order not to miss a word. Ms. Curry brought up the very tough question: how do we love and show compassion to our enemies, to those who have harmed us and the ones we love? How do we forgive and forget? The Dalai Lama answered that no one ever really forgets transgressions. We all this truth, but for some reason this idea of “forgive and forget” gets a lot of playtime even though we know it cannot be; it’s another myth we tell ourselves to make life better, like the Tooth Fairy or the idea of ‘closure’. His Holiness recognizes this and spoke not of forgetting, but of remembering with no ill will; a much easier goal than amnesia. We cannot forget but we can let go.

The Dalai Lama also emphasized the importance of females, especially mothers, when it comes to creating a compassionate world (as all the women in the audience nodded of course). Evolutionarily speaking (or back in cave-person days, if you prefer), it was much more important for females to create and sustain a stable community if they were to survive. Males could go out and hunt or forage for food on their own with no need for another person’s help; however when a female had four kids hanging off her whining for more Mastadon meat she didn’t have the choice to be a rugged individualist. To survive, she had to get along with others and make sure those others got along too and didn’t get pissy and storm out of the cave. This is of course a gigantic generalization but even today we have scientific signs of this survival mechanism: female humans have much higher levels of oxytocin, the “let’s-just-all-get-along” hormone. All around the world, the vast majority of people caring for the weak, for children, for the elderly, and for the sick, are women. Higher levels of oxytocin in the human female makes us want to hold families and social groups together; it also makes us hurt more than males when those relationships end. When science and the Dalai Lama agree, it should at least make you think. However this is not just a pretty flower in the bonnet for us ladies out there; yeah we have the skills but do we use them? Females of the world should take the Dalai Lama’s words as a call to action, for compassion without action means nothing; intent is useless unless it is backed up by behavior. Women must act and use their naturally evolved gifts to create a better world.

Another big topic of the evening was the relationship between music and compassion. The panelists agreed that when you speak of empathy and caring for others, the words go into your brain first and are processed, sorted, labeled and tucked away, an organizational byproduct of human existance and our need to categorize the world around us. A musical experience, however, is sensory- it skips your brain and all of it’s hangups and hookups and goes right into your body and through to your soul and to your spirit. You embody the understanding, you become a part of the sensory experience. All of you crazed music lovers out there are shaking your heads, going yes, yes, yes, music changed my life! It is true; I always say dancing is my religion and it’s not just a clever Myspace comment; when I am on the dance floor everything else in my life goes away. I transcend. Dave spoke of dancing by the fireplace when he was young, and his children bouncing on the couch to music these days, and truly if everyone could share this musical transcendence the world would be a happier place. Can you imagine if President Bush took a couple of hours every day to crank up some tunes and dance barefoot in the grass? Music makes everyone’s life better, and as a tool for compassionate action, it has no match.

This is the message as I understood it from the words of the Dalai Lama. No doubt every other person in the room took a slightly different idea home, but we all got the point: compassion leads to inner peace, and inner peace leads to world peace. And every single one of us has the duty to create this compassionate world for each other, for our six million brothers and sisters.

After the hour-long convo and a short break, Seattle’s band-of-the-moment, Death Cab for Cutie, took the stage in a surprise appearance. I had heard talk of an Eddie Vedder or Pearl Jam showing, so I was a bit disappointed as I am not a big fan of the emo genre. I find it depressing and just want to slap those kids and tell ‘em hey: cheer up! Even the Dalai Lama is laughing despite his problems which are no doubt bigger than yours: have you heard of China? I gave Death Cab another listen but left after a couple of songs and went to Mecca Cafe for some fried cheese sticks and Mac & Jack’s.

Back at Key Arena after avoiding the screaming protesters outside (’cuz compassion SUCKS) came Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds who somehow create and express emotions you didn’t know you felt with two little guitars and two giant talents. If you have not heard Live at Luther College, a recording of a Dave and Tim show, go online right now and acquire it. The combination of Dave’s genius songwriting skills and Tim’s redonkulous abilities on the guitar create a new animal that is greater than the sum of its parts. Friday night the jam began with Bartender, a Dave Matthews Band song about how the divine is found not in some far away universe or on a mountaintop, but within every single one of us. Crowd favorites Dancing Nancies and Everyday were complemented by newer songs like Eh Hee, and the show was wrapped up by carpe diem anthem Lie In Our Graves, which goes like this:

I can’t believe that we would lie in our graves, wondering if we had spent our living days well; I can’t believe that we would lie in our graves, dreaming of things that we might have been, could have been, maybe…

What a perfect theme for Seeds of Compassion! Do you use your gifts and talents to make this world a better place? Are you acting with compassion towards others- not just your friends (that’s easy) but to all humans, even those that don’t look like you or eat the same foods or have different beliefs about the world? Do you create positive, compassionate energy that makes those around you have a better day? Are your actions in line with your words? We can’t become the Dalai Lama overnight, but we can all strive to be such a caring, compassionate human being in small steps, every day.

The talk was inspiring, the music was thrilling, and the night was one of the best of my life (and I have a lot of great nights). My only small complaint (as usual) was that there was absolutely nowhere to dance in the nosebleeds at Key Arena; somehow I got stuck in the section of crowd who didn’t want to stand up at all so I felt like an ass when I got up to clap and cheer and dance. The set played by Dave and Tim was also much shorter than their usual shows, about half the songs that they usually play. I wanted more.

The real question is, will this whole big workshop on compassion make a difference in the world? Will people really change their actions and be more compassionate? Today driving downtown I happened to get behind His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama’s motorcade, backed up by Seattle’s finest. Paying attention to the little parade instead of the road, I cut off the driver in a Hummer behind me. Looking in my mirror and expecting a honk or a one-fingered hand signal, I received instead a wave and a smile. Yeah, it’s small, a tiny traffic transgression forgiven, but it’s a start. Seattle is a kind city, a polite metropolis, and a leader in this country when it comes to progressive thought and smart people. Let’s put all that to work to create a better world; let’s make sure that the Seeds of Compassion grow and blossom into a movement of kindness and actions of empathy. It starts today, with you.

On Saturday evening at the Pacific Science Center there was not a lecture on chemistry, a school bus tour of the Science Playground, or a 3D show at the IMAX. Seattle’s science museum was instead filled with the kinetic energy of hundreds of dancers, musicians, and artists who came together to raise hell at the annual event Kinetic, produced by Infinite Connections. The night was a living, breathing, dancing mix of beats and butterflies, dinosaurs and digital remixes, tide pools and trance, electronic music and museum madness.

This year’s Kinetic III was a much anticipated party; Northwest Tekno had over 1300 posts (BUMP! SNAP!) devoted to the event, lasting from 9PM to 4AM. The dance party started off with a flashy fire performance and for the first three hours all of the exhibits in the Pacific Science Center were open; everyone ran around like kids checking out the big museum. In the Tropical Butterfly House girls with glittery green hair caught bright blue butterflies on their pink fishnet-covered palms and boys with fauxhawks and chains in their faces gently pet starfish and nudibranchs in the Saltwater Tide Pool. Some of the ravers brought pillows and blankets to lay on the floor at the midnight laser show, and plenty others brought cash for the three bar areas set up, one incongruently in a children’s play area. The outside smoking section was huge and stocked with tons of picnic tables so the dancers could catch their breath and a Camel in the cool night air under the glowing purple arches of the Science Center and spaceship Spaceneedle.

But this party is all about movement, and music and dance dominated the Kinetic experience. In fact the kinetic energy produced by the dancers could probably have powered the museum for a week. The three main stages played trance, house, and electro; everyone could find their home groove and everyone did.

The Uniting Souls animal house was the first music room encountered, and househead deejays Ramiro, Derrick Deepvibez, and Jay West put four on the floor with live music accompaniment from Ari Joshua on guitar and Sklobot on saxophone. The crowd responded well to the mix of electronic beats and live instrumentation; it’s a melange many don’t get to hear too often though they should. Around the corner in the Insect Village was the IOSIS Art Party with an intriguing variety of visual art and all the trance and psy-trance you could ever want to freak out to. Blue Spectral Monkey and Osiris Indriya amongst others kept the dance floor freaking out for hours, only the Madagascar hissing cockroaches seemed indifferent to the progressive sound vibrations saturating the room, which is probably a good thing. For chilling out, the Dinosaur Room was the place to be with floaty, dreamy downtempo provided by the Chickenhed Crew.

I found my home for the night on the dance floor in the Broken Disco Electro Playhouse; the lineup from the four music collectives Decibel, Fourthcity, Sensory Effect, and Shameless was on fire and the dance floor was straight going off for hours. Novatron vs. Shapeshifter was a battle where everyone won; Jerry Abstract and Nordic Soul spun as Abstract Soul and the crowd loved it, especially the glow-stick girls in the back. Headliner Knifehandchop from Toronto did not disappoint but the killer set of the night was delivered at 2AM by Naha, who lathered her side of the museum into a fevered frenzy with her eclectic breakcore style and energetic, inspiring performance. Packed with smiling faces, flailing arms, and crazy legs, the mad delirium on the floor was the best dance riot of the night thanks to Naha’s potent beat flinging. Such was the consensus at the afterparties which raged after Kinetic III for hours and hours; most people’s comments went something like this: “OMG did you catch Naha’s set? It was F*ING INCREDIBLE! INSANE! My legs are so sore now. Can you pass me a beer?” etc. Missed Naha? Catch her this Saturday night at Photosythesis 0.2 at the Transcendent Church of Bass battling glitchmaster Noisemaker which will be a supersick war of whomps, a blitzkrieg of bass and a barrage of booty shakin’. I wouldn’t miss it if my feet were missing.

Parties are always more fun when there is something anarchistic about them, the fun lovers who go out and dance for hours every week aren’t your typical black- and beige-wearing limp celery sticks on the bus going home to watch sitcom reruns. We want unconventional experiences and atypical nights that will add up to amazing, unique lives. Mainstream is a dirty word; average days are unacceptable. Closing a museum like the Pacific Science Center for a giant party is like throwing a rave in a church; bucking the establishment reminds us that we’re not all clones, no sheep here, we are alive and we dance all night to remind ourselves that life is short. Like children, our priority is to play and have fun, and the positive energy and happy hearts produced at the Kinetic III prove that just maybe we are onto something.

And no one at Kinetic III will ever forget that night; most are no doubt already planning to attend Kinetic IV as well as Magnetic IV this fall, Kinetic’s sister celebration hosted by the same music collectives. The party was a bit pricey, $21 presale and $30 at the door, but well worth it as you not only receive a huge musical experience to imbibe but also have the whole Pacific Science Center to explore. My only tiny moan about Kinetic III is this, and I think you will all agree: the party should last until 6AM. Then again, they don’t call me Dance Fever 5000 for nothin’.

Do you agree with me? Think I’m full of it? Whose set did you think was the best, and how would you make the next Kinetic even better? Comment below and let me know!

In preface to this review I will say that I am a HUGE Harvey Danger fan. I know all the words to all the songs and never miss a show unless I am out of the country. Sean Nelson is one of my top friends on MySpace, I offer to buy friends tickets to their shows and I routinely listen to their albums the whole way through.

Which made last night the Triple Door just perfect. The band kicked off their two-day celebration of the ten-year anniversary of the release of “Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?” by playing the album the whole way through, and then they kicked down some rare B-sides, a real treat for the real fans in the crowd. Never one to plan too far in advance, I showed up at the box office of the Triple Door at 6:30 PM and bought a standing-room only ticket, then was pleasantly surprised to be led down to the seat as close to stage right as possible when I returned for Harvey Danger at 8:45. True, I could not see the drummer at all, but for a last-minute ticket, I was stoked to be so close to the band. I always enjoy watching band members interact with each other, plus all the disorganized, spur-of-the-moment fans go into the standing-room only section at the Triple Door which makes it the bounciest, most lively section of the venue.

That isn’t saying much. The Triple Door is an awesome space with great sound, but you can’t really call it rock and roll. This venue does not wear black leather or get drunk and break lamps. It sips wine like a classy French woman and takes little bites of egg pastries. I love the combo of food and music that the Triple Door provides, but I do prefer to see Harvey Danger jam at venues like the South Lake Union Block Party, the Redhook Brewery, or Neumo’s so that I can dance. Last night’s show at the dinner theater was the most intimate and solemn of any of their shows I have seen. It was serious. The fans were serious, and emotions were running high.

If you have never listened to a Harvey Danger album while you are going through a breakup, you need to. Did you just get dumped by a jerk? Go to Harvey Danger’s website and download their latest album, Little By Little, for free. Press play on your Ipod and don’t look back; blast it and cry and scream along with Sean. It was obvious last night that much of the audience had done just that; perhaps it was the combination of rich food and alcohol and a set list of slower, really emotive songs that don’t usually get played, but there was a palpable feeling of heartbreak in the air. The negative space of the Triple Door was filled up with feelings of forever lost and thoughts of pissed-off lovers. Harvey Danger fans have broken hearts. I know I wasn’t the only one in the crowd who had tears come to her eyes during the show; now that is ART, people.

Harvey Danger, you say? That band with that song? Yes, and they are so much more. Harvey Danger is so Seattle; Just like our city, you meet them and they are polite, nice, smart, and geeky. The official ladies room banter included the comment “Sean’s so cute when he smiles, I just want to hug his head.” Harvey Danger are loveable nerds in suits and slacks with carnation boutonnieres and floppy hair; they have been rocking dork-chique long before Napoleon ever caught anyone a delicious bass. They read books. They play multiple instruments. They sing of shitty studio apartments and a single strand of Christmas lights held up in the drywall with a thumbtack (best Christmas-sucks imagery ever).

But underneath the polite exterior of the band, an anger rages, a deep, dark, gritty current of unrest and dissatisfaction. Remind you of a certain city? Behind the amiable waves of drivers, under the progressive tolerance of crackheads telling bad jokes and beneath the no-please-you-first-I-insist facade is a very angry city. Seattle yells “jump!” at people on bridges, Seattle spits on floors at clubs, Seattle wears a lot of black eyeliner. I love Seattle for this juxtaposition, and Harvey Danger is one manifestation of this beautiful incongruency. Nice and angry.

And they manifest again tonight. The show yesterday was the best one for the hard core fans; I went to hear the B-sides that rarely or never get performed. For tonight’s lineup Harvey Danger will play through their other two albums, King James Version and Little By Little; this will be a better bet for those of you newbies contemplating a Harvey Danger experience. Much of the crowd from yesterday will return tonight; but don’t let their smiles and happy faces fool you. Under the polite veneer, a seething anger rages in their hearts. Nice and angry, just like Seattle- and just the way I like it.

..and Seattle slays Bassnectar! Neumos on Capitol Hill last Friday night was the straight atomic bomb action, the dirtiest, stickiest, sweatiest show I’ve seen there since Edit and OOah slammed down back in December. The Seattle music phreaks were out and pumped from the early evening despite the cold ticket line that wrapped way around the corner of Pike, and the energy just grew and grew from there to detonation level: minds blown.

Local homeboy Nordic Soul started the show followed by abstract technoist Lusine who really warmed up the crowd with his minimal beats, to say the least. His throbbing set was the perfect opener and had everyone already bumping up and down on the dance floor. The non-profit Seattle art crew Artifakt provided the live painting, and artist Roman produced a visual display throughout the show, an awesome addition to the creative energy in the room. The painter was clearly boiling over with talent; however the crowd was not at all into the finished rendition of the Seattle skyline. We are not shopping tourists at the Fremont market; we are Seattle and we see the real deal every day. A more abstract piece would have been better appreciated by the most abstract crowd.

By the time Lorin (Bassnectar) stepped up to the decks at midnight the room was already sweaty, and from the first beat he dropped the audience went berserk: yelling, jumping, dancing like maniacs, and taking off clothes. From the front of the floor all the way to the back Neumo’s was packed, even the balcony was shaking with movers, and the positive energy just popped off the walls all night. People weren’t bobbing heads and tapping feet; they were going wild. The club was oversold of course, sweat was flying everywhere and Bassnectar gave the whompiest, sickest beats ever for almost two hours. His original mixes and wide-minded take on electronica strike hard the hearts of music lovers who too often get stuck with deejay mimics and uninspired repeat beats. Bassnectar’s thick thick bass, tempo changes and kaleidoscopic combination of music from reggae to rock created a wicked insane vibe on the dance floor, and the crowd of hard core fans tore Neumo’s down. The show even extended way outside where the unlucky fools who couldn’t get tickets were getting down anyway in the middle of the street, Capitol Hill cops be damned.

Bassnectar was obviously as blown away by the experience as we were, dancing and sweating so much during his set that he had to use a bath towel to mop off himself and his equipment. He even stopped the beats a couple of times to tell Seattle how much we rock. Maybe he is used to the San Francisco fans who are just a little bit spoiled by all the kicking electronic music in that city (oh look, another Glitch Mob show, mmm). San Fran may have a giant freaking scene compared to Seattle, but the energy and passion at Neumos on Friday night matched any crazy party on the West Coast. Everyone in the room needed a bath towel that night, I needed two, and no one left the show without a smile and a soul rejuvenated by the music and dance experience that is Bassnectar.

It is always so inspiring to be a part of the energy exchange between an explosive deejay and a psyched crowd; the positive vibe flow bounces back and forth from the artist to the audience until it reaches a ridiculous level. Your brain melts, your body turns to jello, and your soul flies off into outer space. This is why we dance, this is why we love music, this why we crawl the streets of Seattle in search of electric artists who give it. And Bassnectar gave it.

At the raging afterparties everyone was so stoked about the show that they were almost at a loss for words. By Saturday there were already MySpace comments about having Bassnectar’s babies, and more than one person was seriously considering hopping a flight to Hawaii to catch his next show. Seattle was massacred, slaughtered on the dance floor, killed with the beats, and brought back to life by the music. If you missed the show though, wipe away your tears. Lorin was so stoked by the Seattle response that he will no doubt be back to our town; only next time we’re burnin’ down the Showbox. I will be there on the dance floor, and next time I will bring a towel.