Hot. Dusty, muggy, hazy and hot. Heather and Kristen and I are swiftly grateful that we’re here on Thursday – trying to sign in and navigate everything and set up a tent and get ready for a show on Friday when the HORDES are supposed to arrive… well, it was intimidating enough as-is. Though we’ve done a number of festivals since Kerrville, few of them have involved camping and none have been on this scale. Perhaps it’s just that it’s the first day, and an unofficial one at that (and actually, people have been waiting in line since before 3am this morning to get their campsites) – but it DOES seem a lot smaller than Kerrville.
Of course, that was a tent city built over the course of 3 weeks. This is just 3 days. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
The show itself was great. We were very flattered to be asked to be part of the Lounge Stage – which is sort of an officially-sanctioned yet un-actually-official stage continuing the Thursday night performance tradition long after Falcon Ridge was forced to cut Thursdays from their festival due to budget constraints. Pesky J. Nixon, whose accordion player invited us to perform, runs the stage, organizes the performances, and volunteers a sound guy. Between them and Scott (said volunteered sound guy) they provided about 16 channels worth of mics and DIs, a little pop-up tent, a good PA system, the quietest generator I’ve ever failed to hear in my Life, and a great spread of food – AND the best grits I’ve ever had.
The music was amazing. I’ve been excited about the lineup since I saw it come out and the people I DIDN’T know proceeded to amaze me as much as my tried-and-true idols.
Singer / songwriters come in many shapes and sizes and we ranged in age from 20 to 80 and ranged in topics from Dune (yes, thank you, thank you) to being an aging rocker to being forcibly kidnapped and tortured by an ex-girlfriend.
Some standout moments for me:
Karyn Oliver – yay Boring, MD! Fellow Marylander, she was the first familiar voice to be heard and the second familiar face to be spotted. She’s probably tired of people commenting on her hair, but that helmet of golden curls could be trademarked and used as her logo.
Marci Geller – self-proclaimed diva, she made a worthy Star Trek joke and got the audience miaowing the Star Trek theme song. TOS, of course.
Mayor Bill – not a mayor (wait, no, he’s the “mayor” of another camp at Falcon Ridge – I believe he is also the town drunk?). All the technical problems of the evening seemed to swirl around him and I really felt for him. Apparently he’s got a “real” name too, but the moniker was in the organizer’s notes when everything went to press because said organizer couldn’t remember Bill’s last name and then fell asleep. Or something like that. I think “Mayor Bill” is a fine name, and now he’s been branded thusly.
Hugh McGowan – For being such an inspiration our first couple of times in Boston, since then we’ve not seen him sing a note that wasn’t subtly winging its way from behind the bar at the Burren. For 5+ years or so he’s been our bartender there and every time we see him we ask if he’ll do a tune… but every time he’s trapped by that job. He came out from the bar tonight (though he still served whiskey to a chosen few) and his collaborations with David Glaser were highpoints of the night. Hell, they were some of the finest moments of the whole festival.
Charles Nolan – gritty and good and a little bit dirty. His weird-ass Love song is mentioned above.
David Glaser – simply one of the most spectacular (and coveted) instrumentalists out there. And his voice ain’t half bad either. He’s from our neck of the woods and his tune about growing up in a house in Baltimore breaks my heart.
Brittany Ann – delicious vocals, beautiful woman, too young to write that well. As I recap everything, it’s her CD that’s playing and it captures her well.
Spuyten Dyvil – “Spite the Devil”. It’s good to be amongst unpronounceable friends. They sell flasks with their logos on them and they are a physical force of an 8-piece act with a lead singer that looks like she’s about to stalk out in to the audience and wallop someone. Impression of her: a passionate pixie with a temper and one Hell of a voice. She reminds me of Molly Grue scolding the unicorn.
The 9:15 – 9:55 round with We’re About 9, Pesky J. Nixon and Anthony da Costa was one of the most impressive things at the entire festival. They’ve all performed together extensively over the past couple of years and it truly shows. They integrated with another beautifully, flawlessly and charmingly. I haven’t seen WA9 all together for quite a while, and apparently neither has anyone else. Lots of people were surprised to meet Pat Klink (“there’s THREE of you?!”) – that’s bound to change now that Katie and Brian have moved back to Baltimore… time spent apart doesn’t show and the one flaw that DID slip was quickly covered by Katie’s smile and a wink. Brian’s stage craft is something I can only dream of, the harmonies perfected – and Brian’s writing is possibly some of the smartest on the planet. I am glad we do something different, because there’s no point in doing what We’re About 9 does; they do it best.
Pesky J. Nixon were actually who invited us to the Lounge Stage and Camp Loser. Without them we’d have been a whole lot more homeless. And hungrier… holy shit one of their number can cook. See above about grits. Also – they incorporated the Muppets into their banter, have purchased 10 Firefly DVD sets for friendly distribution and where we’ve down the Ballad of Jane they’ve performed the Firefly theme song. I’m looking forward to knowing them better.
And Anthony da Costa? A great writer in the folk-country vein and all the projection a busker in New York City could ever need. I’m suspicious that he is a WHOLE lot smarter than me, and that trait in a 20 year-old is frankly unnerving.
Buskin & Batteau ended the night with a whole new perspective – rockers that have been doing it for a LONG time and writing from that point of view – I frankly Love hearing from people who’ve been doing it for decades and are STILL doing it – and doing it well. I watch them and think that if I’m lucky, one day I’ll be there too. Also – the song “Jews Don’t Camp” is genius but could be revised to include “and rob – he doesn’t camp either”. As I get older in this profession, I’m glad to hear songs that voice exactly some of the things and fears I’m thinking and fearing – and to see them successfully fought down.
After an intense afternoon and a long night, we hang out at Hugh McGowan’s tent swapping songs for a couple of hours with him and David Glaser and whoever else wandered up. Over the course of the night we also ran across Brad Yoder (alto-sax from Pittsburgh), Chuck E. Costa (how are there TWO three-name Costa’s in the local singer/songwriter scene? Wtf) and any number of nameless beautiful voices floating through the darkness. Mandolins, piano and guitar after guitar after guitar were all perpetrated until we retired at 1 in the morning or so. We drive back to Kristen’s dad’s place in Delmar, NY and take sink showers. We wolf down leftover Italian food and are in bed by 3 in the morning with hopes of being daisy-fresh for tomorrow’s main stage appearance.
Ethan, looming out of the smoke, was responsible for much of the fantastic food produced at Camp Loser. The Pesky J. Nixon boys are both simply built to a different scale and tower over the rest of us mortals. I like that. Made them easy to find. Ethan threw a pretty good Muppet reference into their set which endeared him to me eternally. The Loser’s Lounge typical fare. While the rest of the camp was making due with peanut butter and whatever they got from the vendors down the mountain, we were always invited to the LL for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I think we only took advantage of this a couple of times – but the brisket… oh god, so good… and the grits… oh man… and the gazpacho….
So as I’ve grown older I’ve continued to see pretty good in the dark. But of course my night vision’s gotten steadily worse as I have more and more trouble dealing with glare. And so I feel it’s pretty accurate for me to post the above photograph as it’s pretty much all I could see as we hung out at Hugh McGowan’s disco-themed tent after the main stage closed down that night. We recognized people by voice alone… except for Brad Yoder – cause he was the ONE guy who brought something other than a guitar… It was a careful balance – getting in the business-necessitated meet-n-greet time with everyone AND playing in the song circles AND simply surviving AND making sure I caught some of the acts that I wanted to catch. Whereas Heather usually hung out close to the stage with the We’re About 9 kids for the acts she wanted to catch, Kristen and I escaped the crowds by climbing higher up on the mountain and watching from above. The sound was STILL crystal clear. Best sound of any festival I’ve ever been to. Sitting at Camp Loser playing with the Bella Birds, Chet Williams and Brittany Ann. Yeah, these jam sessions were wonderful. Chet is a Hell of a guitarist and I found myself liking him more and more as the festival wore on. Cool player – and fun to play with… when I could keep up with him!
Heather leading the Camp Loser song circle for a wee while – I don’t remember what there were singing but it was all pretty exquisite.. One of our favourite after-hours spots to hang out was the Budgie Dome. Above, Spuyten Dyvil joins forces with Pesky J. Nixon to be rip and also roaring.
