July 30th, 2012.

*Saturday morning we managed to make it back to the Festival grounds just in time for… the skies to open up and force us to wait.*

thanks to Scott Jones for the pic – this was probably one of my most visceral moments on the main stage at Falcon Ridge. Just before the festival Louise Mosrie had gotten the call that her mother was very close to death, and she raced home to be with her (she made it in time) – but it was heartbreaking not to have her with us. We performed one of her songs so she could be with us in a tiny way. I think all of us were kind of tearing up playing the song.

The rest of Falcon Ridge is something of a blur. It’s the reason I take so many photographs though – because things really do just blend together.

Friday afternoon Rowan and Kristi came up. I’d asked them to hold off on showing up for a little bit because the weather was just so vicious. But they made it up safe and sound on Friday afternoon, set up their tent and were ready to appreciate the festival in no time at all. I think we caught a couple of the new batch of Emerging Artists and sort of hung around for much of the day. I was swiftly reminded how much of the festival is WALKING.

We actually wandered to the hotel for a little bit just to check things out, which was wise of us – and then returned to catch Gandalf Murphy and the Grand Slambovians’ set on the Dance Stage. We’d only caught a little bit of them last year and kept getting told that we should’ve seen the “real show” (i.e. them at the Dance Tent) – and sure enough the energy there was far more intense. I learned about their weird umbrella dance and watched much frolicking. It’s a shame I don’t dance!

Saturday morning at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival dawned… barely. The Most-Wanted Song Swap was the first thing on the stage that day (the first act was canceled because of the rain, and even our set was drastically reduced) – It was absolutely wonderful to finally be back at the festival and it didn’t even matter that the rain and the mud and the grey would’ve been unbearable in other circumstances. In my opinion, the day was perfect.

No really. I don’t dance. Hush you.

It was probably the loudest thing we were destined to witness the whole weekend – it’s a shame the sound wasn’t better managed. The volume would’ve been okay except it was so SHRILL. Feedback from the guitars, some of the high-end of the solos and especially cymbal crashes were completely vicious on the earballs. Despite that we were having a great time when Pesky J. tracked us down and gave us the distressing news that Ethan’s fiancé may have broken her wrist. They’d hightailed it for the nearest hospital (sensible, way beyond the ken of a festival first aid tent) and asked if we’d be able to fill in for them for a couple of late night performances.

Unfortunately, with the way we’d scheduled OUR evening there was just no way we could take the reins – but FORTUNATELY it turned out to be just a sprain and they managed to make it back in time for their shows.

Relaxing in the Lost and Found tent before performing there, I THOUGHT Kristen had caught me but apparently she didn’t know what had been going on as her response upon seeing these photographs was… explosive.

Speaking of fortunately – cell signal was way better this year. Though we had plenty of friends talking about how refreshing it was to turn their communications off for the weekend, it was telling that they were all solo acts. Coordinating, recoordinating, planning, replanning and generally trying to keep of my own four-piece was bad enough, but then we were also frequently trying to make our schedules mesh with Pesky J. Nixon (another 4 – 5 people) and Blair Bodine.

It’s at this point I remember probably one of the most important things to bring up – and I don’t think I have. Louise Mosrie is a glaring omission from the list of people we were keeping track of – her mother had passed away Thursday night and Louise and Anna had rushed back to Nashville. She’d gotten the warning in time and managed to get home to say good bye –but it put a pall on the weekend.

Heather and Kristen and I had learned one of Louise’s songs to sort of be a memorial to her mother and make sure that Louise took part in the festival in spirit. Heather took the lead on learning it and we shared that with Pesky J. and Blair – the end product was exquisite and I was really proud of how the song came together. I teared up every time we played it and it doesn’t get much more intense than that.

*There aren’t enough photographs of Heather and I smiling at each other.*

Louise’s mother’s death was just the beginning – Thursday and Friday brought bad news from all quarters: my brother and his wife’s ceiling collapsed back home (no one hurt, but they were reading to little Max in the next room with their dog when it happened), Ethan’s fiancé sprained her wrist, one friend’s car died on the way to Falcon Ridge, another friend’s guitarist had to head home for emergency dental surgery… there was just SO MUCH and it seemed like everyone was in a tizzy of communication trying to direct emergency actions….

Another reason to be grateful for the improved cell signal.

In any case, Friday night found Kristi and Rowan choosing to camp on the hill and the

rest of us returning to the hotel, planning to reconvene for a practice right before Saturday morning’s Most-Wanted Song Swap on the Main Stage.

Slept hard, but not nearly long enough. Saturday we drove back to the festival grounds after a couple of aborted attempts to organize a practice – and ended up gathering and waiting in the green room tent behind the Main Stage. The rain was coming down with a viciousness that was hard to believe and though there were a couple of die-hards with tarps and shelters on the hill, they couldn’t open the stage.

The Grand Slambovians are arguably genius. Formerly of the punk scene, they rebranded themselves and invaded the folk scene when they saw how devoted and open the fan base there could be. And they made a huge splash and have been since sloooowly reaching back into their punk rock roots. I wouldn’t be surprised if a substantial number of the Friday one-day people were there specifically to see the Gandolf Murphy and the Grand Slambovians appear at the Dance Tent. We certainly needed to head over and see what all the fuss was about!

Inside the Dance Tent for Gandalf Murphy and the Grand Slambovians at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival on Friday night… it was kind of madness! The music was a lot of fun and it was good to see them in their element. Well – at least it was good to see their element. Not being willing to push into the midst of it all we very rarely saw a GLIMPSE of the band itself!

We were just kept waiting back stage as we watched the weather – and this eventually turned into a big jam session with Pesky J. Nixon, ilyAIMY, Joe Jencks and Annie Wenz. This was probably one of my favourite little moments of the whole festival, playing a couple of truly OWNED covers including the Stray Cat Strut with Annie on percussion and Joe on bouzouki – it was one of those strange bonding moments that happens when you’re packed into a little room with a bunch of musicians and nothing else to do.

The jam was suddenly broken up by a frenetic effort to get the most-wanted on stage. Unfortunately, it was yet another case of “tech sheet? What tech sheet?!” and the set up was pathetically mismanaged. When we finally DID get everyone set up and ready to play, timing worked out to allow each band two songs and the one last finale piece at the end (Louise’s song). The audience response was huge and a lot of people pointed to this as the best part of the festival (all the flattery!).

Jamming with Jake and the Erics were really just amazing moments, and getting to sort of direct with eyebrows, gestures and jumps reminds me of what it was like to be in more jam-oriented bands from years and years ago. I Loved it so much…

The hill at night. What with patchwork clouds and moonlight, it could almost make you forget that you were still moist throughout every bit of your flesh! Below, slowly the main grounds kind of chill out and people retreat to the camp grounds at Falcon Ridge – but not to camp! Too much music for that.

Presumably out of contrariness, after our main stage performance the weather cleared up a little bit and we were able to spend most of the day doing what Falcon Ridge is really all about… walking!

Greg Klyma performing at the Budgie Dome at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in Hillsdale, NY. I was really blown away by him tonight – he was in rare form and absolutely flawless in his playing, choices, banter – CONNECTION!

We eventually did a performance over at the Lost and Found tent and had a great time down there with actual SUNSHINE raining down on us for a change! We got to wear sunglasses and look all Matrixy. I Love being dragged around to the Lost and Found tent because these are the guys who can’t get away to see shows, and they request certain artists to come down and make up for it. ilyAIMY came down and rocked the tent and rather than use the tiny amplifier we brought with us (I think we didn’t use it the whole time we were on the road, actually) we borrowed Sorcha’s cellist’s little ¾. There were some tuning issues as Kristen broke the instrument to her will, but once we got going it was perfect!

We spent some time back at the Lounge Camp and heard an awful lot of concern out of Jake about a song he was doing in one of the upcoming sets – I didn’t realize what he was talking about until we caught him later at the Dave Carter tribute.

They were commemorating Dave Carter – it’s the 10th year anniversary of his death, which had happened within days of Falcon Ridge back in 2002. I’ve known his music for a long time, but I didn’t KNOW I knew his music and Tracy Grammer led a real hit parade of musicians across the stage doing some of the coolest and creepiest folk songs I’ve ever heard. (notes to self that he needs to pick up some Dave Carter NOW). Pesky J. Nixon performed a tune with entirely too many words in it and did a wonderful job at it.

There was just an awesome time perpetrated at the Budgie Dome. It didn’t hurt that they ply the musicians with bourbon but I think we were all just happy to see one another – above, Jake from Pesky J. Nixon and Eric, FRFF house fiddler.

From there it was just killing time until our appearance at Budgie Dome. Fortunately there was a lot of good music to kill time with… conveniently AT the Budgie Dome.

*Morning cometh, and I contemplate the temporary blue skies.*

Greg Klyma put on one of the best performances I’ve ever seen, Pesky J. was fun and …. Well… very, very talkative, the Sea the Sea, Sputyen Duyvel’s new fiddler… the list went on and on. We finally performed at around 2 something in the morning to a rapt audience.

From there we wandered other song circles, performed here and there or just stopped in and listened. By now Kristen was already back in the tent and Heather eventually joined her, but I got dragged into a couple of conversations back at the Lounge Camp and chatted with Eric (mandolin player for Pesky J. Nixon) through till dawn.

I forgot to mention the drum hippies. I hate them. Sublime with nothing but djembes? Doesn’t work you asses.

Finally the morning crew crept round and I hadn’t seen bed yet, and Sunday morning we were scheduled EARLY on the Workshop Stage as the pre-Gospel Wake Up WAKE UP.

I kicked my bandmates loose and we made our way rather dazedly down to the far end of the camp and joined up with Pesky J. Nixon, Annie Wenz and Blair Bodine and gave our audience more jolt than 10 cups of coffee. Yay uber-tired bonding!

Sunday morning was madness. I hadn’t slept but three hours on Friday night and hadn’t slept at all on Saturday – Sunday morning fought with drizzle and mostly won… mostly.

No matter how much the Lounge Camp offers to feed us, no matter how much food we bring for ourselves, a good portion of our meals are still taken down at the little city of stalls down at the bottom of the hill. Smoothies and coffee, ice cream and kabobs, crepes and steaks and whatever else. We got food to walk with and tromped through the mud to whereever we were headed next. I feel like the whole weekend was… WALKING!

We got to the Workshop Stage early, if not bright – to find a sound crew spreading towels around the stage, drip-drying gear and unbagging their speakers. They seemed to suffer from the same discombobulation that the Main Stage sound crew had had, running back and forth with no real sense of order. Pops and feedback ensued, with a whole lot of us waiting around repeating “we need a DI for this” or “of course there’s no sound, you need to run an XLR to my mic”. This was further complicated by having a stage manager of some sort (at least, a guy with a walkie-talkie and a clipboard) yelling that we were supposed to start in ten minutes… start in five minutes… we’re going to have to cut the set short… etc. Unfortunately, he was yelling at the musicians when it was really the sound crew that needed to get their act together, especially since at this point it was Pesky J., Blair and ilyAIMY and we’d worked together so much that we could explain what one another’s needs were.

*Rowan and Kristi had spent the night in the hotel and because of all the rain, weren’t allowed to bring their car back on the hill. They made the best of it and hung out in the dry.*

For all that we lose to them every year at the WAMMIEs and I’ve met plenty of individual members, I don’t think I’d ever actually seen Eddie from Ohio perform! They were one of the “headliners” of the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival.. and I was exposed not only to their music but to their fans’ weird dancing.

We also had a new person added to the mix: Annie Wenz had been in the green room tent of the Main Stage with us but I had no idea who she was. She turned out to be a very fun blues(ish) player with grit and gumption and a WHOLE lot of passion. We ended up being a very, very good match and the on-stage jams betwixt all of us were a whole lot of fun, not at ALL lessened by sweet sleepless delirium. Heather and I were DEFINITELY a little giggly, I was a little more tangential, but the MUSIC was absolutely delicious.

*We actually ended up with a really fantastic jam at the Lounge Camp for a little while. Totally PLOJeriffic!*

*Not all of us responded to the rain poorly. Little Heather of the Lounge Camp took to singing and dancing in a Pikachu hat instead.*

After our 10am appearance at the Workshop Stage (which we were at by 9am, but it STILL went on late – and there was nothing scheduled immediately afterwards so we RAN a little late) – we had but a half hour or so before we needed to be BACK on the same stage for a set based around the idea of harmony-singing duos. Annie and I got to bonding over biker boots and I BARELY got food in me before we were set to play again.

The other acts on stage were Storyhill and probably one of the biggest names at the festival, Girlyman.

We’d almost played with Girlyman in Indianapolis, but one of their singers was diagnosed with cancer and they had to cancel the tour. After the big C was beaten into remission, we almost played with Girlyman in Baltimore, but we had a 98 Rock show scheduled too close to the night and we couldn’t make it happen.

*ilyAIMY on the Workshop Stage being very, very relaxed because we haven’t slept in forever.*

This little beast did a good job of clinging to Heather through most of our set at Workshop Stage. We tried to make him cling to something else. We tried to scrape him off on cables and to flick him off. He FINALLY was removed – at which point he flew to someone in the front row and decided he was going to nest in HIS clothing for a while.

And so it was like FINALLY we were playing with these people and meeting them up close – it was a fun set with everyone sitting in on one another’s songs. Girlyman’s drummer was a LOT of fun to play with, though not nearly as easy to direct as the other people we’d played with over the past couple of months and though the audience absolutely went nuts for everything we all did, it was a little bit of a clusterfuck.

A FUN clusterfuck… but yeah, definitely chaotic.

Our soundguy at the Workshop Stage. He was really responsive and tried to take care of us, but the overall organization was kind of chaotic – but he DID have an awesome tattoo with tentacles on it!

After the two Workshop Stage appearances we set about breaking down the tent, collecting our merch and saying our goodbyes. This of course took forever, but I’ve got no complaints. Everything takes twice as long at Falcon Ridge, especially if people know who you are – you’ve got to stop and talk to every other person you lay eyes on.

We’d sold so many CDs that the merch peeps gave us a tiny little box to go home with (one of the boxes from the Grand Slambovians, actually) and while we were checking out, people were still spotting us and racing up to buy more discs. It gave us a gentle euphoria as we finally loaded out and made our way back to the gates and out.

Dirty and tired, we got on the road – swiftly stopped at a local organic market for snacks and a REAL BATHROOM – and then got back on the road. Minus a gas stop, we pretty much drove straight home… split up the gear, said our temporary farewells and … that’s all I remember. I think Kristen drove home from Heather’s place and I slept in the car.