Festival of the Sun - Old Town, Lansing (6.26.2010)

As Friday evening wore on, we finally found ourselves heading towards Old Town after what seemed like hours of waiting for a cab. It was that time of year again for the 6^th annual Festival of the Moon and we were itching to get our hands on a tasty Bell’s beer as soon as humanly possible. We jumped in line for tickets and felt a whole lot better about the $15 price when they handed us 3 drink stubs and a sleek looking little souvenir glass with the Bell’s logo on it. We had gotten there a bit late but the beer line was short and it was certainly nothing that a couple of Two Hearted Ale’s couldn’t fix. Ever since my first exposure to Bell’s beer, this particular IPA, with it’s crisp finish and incredibly refreshing aromatics, has gradually stolen my heart and become one of my favorite beers in the Bell’s catalogue. I wasn’t the only one either… almost everyone in the group poured themselves one of these copper colored ales and we headed over to the main stage to check out the music scene. The band Cartel was just getting started and it took us about 30 seconds before we made the unanimous decision to move in the opposite direction of the stage. These guys were playing some really terrible sounding pop punk music that had been turned up WAY too loud. They had the long, sweaty hair and the skin-tight jeans. I was definitely disappointed with this choice of a Friday night headliner. Lansing has a plethora of amazing local blues musicians that I’m positive would have drawn a larger and more communal crowd than this awful sounding hipster band. It was painfully bad and gave me these horrifying flashbacks of some of the music I used to listen to in my early high school days. On our way out, I spotted some kid smashing empty beer glasses on the blacktop below. We left Festival of the Moon with mixed feelings.

Saturday on the other hand had been aptly named Festival of the Sun and as soon as we arrived in Old Town, I could tell that it was a completely different atmosphere. This time around, they gave us wine glasses and there were beer and wine vendors set up all around the perimeter of the tents passing out samples of anything you would ever want. A whole slew of Michigan brewers including Founders, Bells, Dark Horse, Shorts, and Michigan Brewing Co. had booths set up with all sorts of bonus freebies being passed out. I had gotten my fill of heavy beer the night before so I stuck with the wine vendors. Unquestionably more of a beer enthusiast than a wine connoisseur, I kept walking up to the attendees and saying “Gimme something red”. It all tasted great to me.

When Steppin’ In It took the stage, I knew we were in for a real treat. Steel guitarist Joe Wilson was in town, which unfortunately has become a bit of a rarity these days. Joe completes the electric sextet – the version of this band that I personally believe to be the most supreme. If you have ever spent any time with me in the last 4 years or so, you have undoubtedly heard me ranting and raving about Steppin’ In It, about countless Monday nights spent drinking and dancing at The Green Door, or about the killer Tuesday morning headaches and the insufferable 8am classes. Without a doubt, Steppin’ In It plays some of the finest roots music that the state of Michigan has to offer and easily provides the best entertainment in the city of Lansing on a weekly basis. Each and every one of these members have become some of the most in-demand musicians in the region, offering up their talents to countless local songwriters including Michigan favorites May Erlewine, Seth Bernard, and Jen Sygit. And if you have ever heard their music or seen them play, then there is absolutely no wonder why. The band’s chief vocalist and songwriter Joshua Davis has developed a seemingly instinctive approach to creative songwriting. His voice is irresistibly comforting and his songs are catchy and heartfelt, overflowing with these beautiful Michigan undertones that ensure this music hits close to home. With a guitar in hand, his style is both simple yet powerful. With Mr. Dominic John Davis plucking away at his weathered doghouse bass and John Cassidy beating the skins off his drums, a prevailing rhythmic foundation is set for Steppin’ In It. Cassidy, toting a traditional grip on his drumsticks, plays with unwavering timing and clicks his hi-hats together in perfect stride with the steadfast sound of Dominic’s bass. Next we have The Reverend, Mike Lynch, in command of all things keys. Mike, who plays as if he could do his job in his sleep, makes something incredibly difficult appear incredibly easy. He plays with both speed and proficiency and offers Steppin’ In It a sound that is very different from the studio work that they’ve released in the past. On Josh’s right, we have multi-instrumentalist Andy Wilson. Andy blows harmonica like few I have ever heard, not only complimenting the nature of the song itself with tasteful and spot-on rhythm playing, but also letting loose on some mind-bending solo work when he’s under the spotlight. On this particular evening, his brother Joe was there to back him up, producing these deep, howling sounds with his steel guitar that growl and cut straight into your soul. Not only that, but Joe belts out these harmonious back-up vocals that give Josh’s voice a certain degree of depth that is nothing short of pleasing to the ears. But it doesn’t stop there. The Wilson brothers also comprise the horn section that has become staple to the sound of Steppin’ In It. It’s blues, funk, salsa and swing. It’s aggressive and fluid, down-home and organic. It’s folk and roots, and just plain old rock ‘n’ roll. Whatever your poison might be, you are sure to hear it in the methods of this unbelievably diverse band. Even the Tom Waits addicts will get their fix. Just this evening I’ve returned from yet another outing at The Green Door. Joe stuck around for the weekend and the sextet was in prime condition yet again. It was a celebration of sorts for the release of their latest album that was recorded live at The Door this past December. After breaking the ice on the dance floor, my friend Haley and I were approached by an older man with an enormous smile on his face. He leaned in and applauded our assertiveness and then went on to say “I tell you what… if you can sit here and listen to Steppin’ In It and NOT get up and dance, you must be DEAD!” Well said, sir. I couldn’t agree more. In fact, if you live anywhere even close to the Lansing area, and aren’t taking advantage of every available opportunity to see these musicians perform, than you must be crazy. See this band. Support their music. I promise you it will be worth your while.

Founders Fest - Grand Rapids, MI (6.19.2010)

As I wove in and out of the rolling Tennessee hillside, the sounds of Greenksy Bluegrass came blaring through my speakers. But this music wasn’t taking me east to the Appalachians like one might think. It was taking me north to Michigan, the homeland… straight to the source. With an ever-expanding national touring schedule, the opportunities to see Greensky play at home here in The Mitten have slowly begun to diminish. Needless to say, I was absolutely psyched when I found out they would be playing in one of my favorite cities at one of the most acclaimed microbreweries in the state just one day after my arrival in Michigan. As if things needed to be any sweeter than that… Lotus would be there to join them. Welcome home!

We kicked off the afternoon at my sister’s new house over in Ada. We met up with some old friends and spent some time catching up before the group headed towards downtown Grand Rapids. With hungry bellies, we ended up at this incredible new tapas restaurant on Ionia Ave. called Tavern on the Square. This place had great deals on a number of unbelievably tasty small plates that were both shareable as well as comfortably proportioned. Imagine that… a restaurant that gives you a plate of food that you are actually able to finish in one sitting. What a concept! In addition, the Tavern had an impressive array of microbrews on draft that came in these manageable little 10oz glasses. Much like the small plates, this concept promotes the art of variety and sampling… the perfect arrangement for a beer enthusiast such as myself. But never mind all of that. The crab cakes alone are reason enough to keep me coming back to this restaurant over and over again. With fuel in our tanks, we made the short walk over to Founders Brewing Company for what was sure to be an exciting evening of music. The brick lain street outside the brewery was already loaded with people laughing, smiling, and carrying on in the heat of the sinking sun. A bunch of us jumped in line for a roll of beer tickets and then headed over to the main tent to get our paws on a cold one. Founders. Brews. Great. Beer. A Red Rye PA was my first order of business and it did not disappoint. This crimson colored beer is loaded with hop bitterness and a crisp, almost spicy finish. “It’ll getchya” as Larry Lawless would say. A couple of those bad boys and you are already breathing the infamous Founders fire.

As Greensky Bluegrass took the stage, I became flooded with excitement. I have watched this group of musicians grow and develop for quite some time now and in that time, the growth and development of my own personal passion for thier music has surfaced with great speed. Call it newgrass, jamgrass, bluegrass… call it traditional, progressive, or psychedelic grass. Call it what you will. I like to think of it as magicgrass… perhaps Michigrass. Whatever the case, there is no denying the extreme technical proficiency of each and every one of these musicians and the unbridled creativity of their collective songwriting ability. The boys just recently released a live album from a late November 2009 show at the Riviera Theatre in Three Rivers, MI that is nothing short of breathtaking. Taking flight on some of the most captivating and mesmerizing jams that I have ever heard from an acoustic ensemble, this live release is a perfect showcase of Greensky’s talent. There are traditional pick-a-thon type tunes, Beatles and Pink Floyd cover songs that feature otherworldly improvisational jamming, and the heart-felt originals that Greensky fans have come to know and love. Their performance at Founders Fest was nothing out of the ordinary. And when I say nothing out of the ordinary, I mean absolutely phenomenal. Anders Beck was at it again with his dobro slung loosely off his shoulders and that signature grin plastered across his face. Anders adds a truly unique element to the Greensky sound that is both raw and aggressive but at the same time smooth and clean sounding. Paul Hoffman, toting a gorgeous looking Newson mandolin, stood picking with extreme creativity and innovation. I always enjoy watching Paul play. He just has this avant-garde style that always leaves me wondering what on earth just happened. With Michael Bont and his banjo breakdown, Devol and his pristine fluidity with the upright bass, and Mr. Dave Bruzza in command of both his Robinson guitar and his unwavering mustache, this exploratory quintet exhibits a full blown auditory assault of the highest degree, a barrage of aural stimulation, and a mind-bending, brain-picking demonstration of sheer brilliance.




When the Greensky boys finished up, a bunch of us turned in a few more tickets and got ourselves prepared for Lotus. I was pumped about being able to see these guys play outdoors again. The energy just seems to be so much greater when you are breathing fresh air and able to move around a bit. Dancing space, unrestrained sound waves, and positive vibes… the list goes on. To make things even better, Lotus came blasting through the silence with a “Shimmer and Out” opener that had me reminiscing about the opening notes at their Rothbury 2009 show. Even our parents were moving and grooving with the Lotus vibes which just goes to show how versatile this music really is. One minute you are lost in some spaced-out instrumental jazz-jam of the minor tonality and the next you find yourself bouncing around amidst this bright, melodic, and highly danceable chord progression in the major key. Lotus has it all. After “Shimmer” the band moved into the always boisterous “Tarasque” and then eventually into an impressive version of “Intro to a Cell” where we got to hear a tasty tease of the Talking Heads’ “Cross-eyed and Painless”. Mike Rempel was nothing short of tearing it up for the entire set and as nightfall progressed, the visual effects kept getting better and better. Lotus always has the coolest light set-up with those signature flat-panel lights always changing colors to fit the vibes of the music. After a night-capping “Jump Off”, I was certainly feeling the effects of an evenings worth of Founders beer and non-stop dancing. Founders Fest had been a complete success. Unbelievable music, great beer, and even better company… what more could a man ask for?

Summer Camp Festival 2010 (5.30.2010)

Sunday, May 30th

In fear of another encounter with the Wild Things, Karrin and I headed over to the Campfire Stage to spread out a blanket and soak in some Hot Buttered Rum. Karrin didn’t last five minutes, so I let her doze off and decided to sneak in for a closer view. These guys were really gettin’ after it and this low key bluegrass was just what I needed after such an intense evening of music. When the music finally finished up around 3:00am, I woke the sleeping beauty and we headed into the woods to see what the situation was like. When we got to our tent, we found that the place had been completely deserted! The Wild Things must have run out of gas after expending all of their energy at that one show they went to that evening. Either that or they had late night tickets to the Big Red Barn for STS9. This was, after all, the only band whose name they even knew at the entire festival. Wherever they were, they weren’t sitting 3 feet outside the door of our tent and Karrin and I slept like we’ve never slept before.

That 1 Guy > Kyle Hollingsworth Band > Umphrey’s McGee

Morning time came and we were feeling outstanding. We munched on some breakfast food and then stirred up a couple of Bloody Mary’s to set things straight. We carried out our morning rituals and then headed over to the Sunshine Stage for That 1 Guy. If you’ve never heard That 1 Guy, you probably never will. Looking like an Amish farmhand, this guy comes out on stage equipped with easily the strangest instrument that you will find at Summer Camp. The Magic Pipe, as he calls it, is a seven foot tall collection of steel plumbing, joints, and electronic triggers that give That 1 Guy’s performances a truly innovative sound. If you ever spent any time at Michigan State University’s Munn Ice Arena back in the day, or more currently, Northern Michigan University’s home ice in Marquette, than it will be very easy for you to visualize the music of That 1 Guy… all you have to do is think about Goophus on steroids. Goophus is this crazy, drunken, one-man band/hockey fan that yells and screams and bangs this crazy homemade instrument up and down, slapping it with his hands and feet and honking horns. That 1 Guy is Goophus, except electronic and slightly more skilled. They both can keep a beat, and they both just sort of make me laugh. Inventor? Yes. Musician? Maybe.

After That 1 Goophus, we headed over to Starshine to catch the Kyle Hollingsworth Band. It sort of pained me to miss out on Hot Buttered Rum’s daytime set, since they had really tickled my fancy earlier that morning at the Campfire Stage before the sun had come up. But nonetheless, Hollingsworth was beastin’ it. Kyle won my heart at Rothbury 2009 when he totally flipped my wig during the String Cheese performance. I said it then and I’ve said it a hundred times since then: that was the best keys performance I have ever seen live. This guy was literally thrashing around on top of his organ in the most chaotic fashion... up off his stool and slamming now only his fingers but his entire forear m down on top of that ivory. Surprisingly enough, I don’t think he ever missed a note. This Summer Camp performance was no exception. Despite a more subdued crowd and a few notches cranked down on the energy knob, Kyle was playing every bit as good as I remember.

From here we headed over to the Sunshine Stage to listen to the first part of Umphrey’s daytime set. You might as well call it the Umphrey’s Stage at this point. The boys were jamming once again, but it was hard to get into the groove after having seen them play nighttime slots the past two evenings. Without the talented Jeff Waful running the light show, it was almost as if the band were lacking one of their members, one of their instruments. The visual science that Waful has nearly perfected is pivotal in achieving an epic Umphrey’s show.

Railroad Earth

Things were really starting to heat up in Chillicothe. Karrin and I had snagged one of those fan/mister water bottles from a roaming vendor and were perplexed about why we hadn’t done so sooner. The mister bottle is like those crazy gum commercials where some unsuspecting civilian gets blasted in the face by a mixture of ice, water, snow, and spearmint. They always walk away looking like they’ve just had an orgasm. The misting bottle is THAT good. Unfortunately for us, by the time we made it over to see Railroad Earth on the moe. stage, we had exhausted not only our misting supply, but our Camelbak supply as well… poor timing. Gee, Mr. Goldberg, it sure would have been nice if you had installed a second watering hole over there by the Moonshine Stage (hint, hint). Railroad Earth wasted no time blowing our minds. Karrin and I fell hard and fast for these guys in April when we got to see them here in Atlanta. Railroad is roots, bluegrass, and improvisational jam all mixed in with incredible songwriting and structured musical arrangements. One thing I picked up on right away was the appearance of Todd Scheaffer’s guitar; chipped, cracked, scratched, and caked with earth, it appeared as if Todd had been crawling around in the woods with his guitar the night before, serenading some unsuspecting group of Summer Campers. His pants were dirty, his arms scratched… a smile upon his face. As usual, Tim Carbone was ripping the strings off his violin and Andy Goessling picked up and dominated a hundred different instruments. Heat exhaustion began to set in. As bad as I wanted to enjoy this band’s set, I couldn’t seem to find my bearings. There I was standing ten yards away from one of my favorite bands of the season, and I couldn’t even seem to focus on the music. I was dizzy, my thoughts in disarray, on the verge of collapse. I snapped a few pictures during “Been Down This Road” and then headed for cover. From the comfort of the shade, we listened to Railroad wrap up a really great set. Sunday was getting better and better by the hour.

The New Mastersounds > Zach Deputy > Zappa Plays Zappa

I wish I could offer more insight on this band, The New Mastersounds. All I know is that I had the funk bug and I couldn’t stop moving. These guys had a super groovy sound that was made complete with some crazy talented guy manning the Hammond Organ. I was too busy tossin’ the Frisbee with Frazier to get up in the mix, but the sound was coming through crystal clear. The two of us were dancing like goofy bastards in-between tosses and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on some Mastersounds sounds as soon as I had the chance.

After the funk session, we headed over to the Campfire Stage for some get-down with Mr. Zach Deputy. Chicago Jam Scene named this set the “Feelgoodiest” set of the weekend and I couldn’t agree more. Zach has a knack for making people smile. He yanks at their tails until he’s completely removed them from their shells and doesn’t stop making beats until he’s got each and every one of those little turtles dancing and grooving around in a musical paradise. With a plethora of utilities at his disposal, The Deputy loops, jams, and constructs a unique blend of “Island-Infused Drum N’ Bass, Ninja Soul” as he calls it. With an often times high-pitched, gospel-like voice that you would never expect from him, this music is soulful to say the least. Live.Music.Life officially endorses Zach Deputy.

Now, the opinions that I present on this website are never positioned as anything more than one man’s opinion. I never claim my ideas to be fact or try to force my beliefs upon you. Often times I will ask readers to “decide for yourself” or warn you that my words need to be taken with a grain of salt. But the statement I am about to make is one that I will exhibit with the upmost confidence: Dweezil Zappa is easily one of the most talented and underrated musicians on the performing circuit. Alright, go ahead and laugh. Frank was never one to float the mainstream… why would he do things any differently when it came to naming his children. Even Frank faced a similar hurdle during his time as a performing musician. Despite one of the most extensive and impressive catalogues in rock history, Frank never really earned the recognition that he deserved… not that he ever wanted it. Dweezil has dedicated a good portion of his life to learning his fathers music which, I assure you my friends, is no small feat. In fact, I close my eyes and listen to this kid play, and I find virtually nothing that separates his skill and style as a guitarist from his father’s. Frank Zappa was a composer, which is something that most people will never realize. Listening to this music and being able to see beyond all of its weirdness, being able to pick up on the extreme technical proficiency and the flawless delivery of some of the most difficult musical arrangements that any progressive rock band has seen, is what separates Zappa fans from others. Understanding Frank Zappa’s humor may be one thing, but understanding his music as the creational compositions of a musical genius, is another.

Ultraviolet Hippopotamus

I wasn’t kidding when I said Sunday was getting better and better by the hour. As the sun was dropping below the horizon, the mighty Hippo was peeking its ears above the surface of the water, preparing to make waves. Those of us who had the audacity to take the Zappa Plays Zappa > UV Hippo route in lieu of moe. set one that evening (an obvious choice in my opinion), were greatly rewarded. This band is off the charts. Expecting a poor turnout at the Campfire Stage (thanks to moe. and EOTO), I was pumped to see a whole slew of people crowding around the hill, ready to throw down with the Hippo. The band wasted no time and started pumping out those highly danceable, electro-progressive jams that have become signature to the UVH sound. I shit you not, these guys are serious, serious business. Their music is overflowing with these Frank Zappa and Garaj Mahal type fusion elements that are blended with the perfect amount of jamtronica to provide this unbelievable sensation that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. As I’ve said before, Sam and Russell give me the same sort of anticipatory feelings that I get when I’m watching Jake Cinninger and Brendan Bayliss play. Each of them are guitar monsters just waiting to explode into some crazy string-shredding, neck-tapping madness that not one of us will be prepared for. When Frazier turned to me during “Cream Soda” with a bandana over his face, pumping his fists and convulsing his body, he confirmed the fact that UV Hippo was indeed bringing the heat. Everyone around us was dancing and grooving with this scrunched up look on their face, wondering what sort of soundwaves were successfully infiltrating their minds and bodies, but unable to do anything about it. I could tell they were hooked… just like I was the first time I heard them. When it was all said and done, the crowd was in an uproar and the Hippo had done it again. Coming from Michigan, I have been spoiled rotten with opportunities to see Ultraviolet Hippopotamus and every single time I have ever seen them, they’ve played with just as much energy and vigor as the time before. Day in and day out, this band reminds me why they continue to be one of my favorite jam bands on the circuit. I love UV Hippo.

With the life sucked out of us, Karrin and I headed over to catch the second set of moe. only to fall face first onto our blanket… we practically slept through the entire set. It had been a long weekend and Summer Camp had undoubtedly been a success. Despite the teenage creatures that invaded our personal camping space and a few bouts of heat exhaustion, we got to witness more sets of music than you could hope to see in a whole year, and a few of them were unforgettable. This year, as Fourth of July weekend grows near, I will be sure to look out towards the coast of Lake Michigan, and take a moment of silence for Rothbury 2010. But the festival spirit lives on, and Summer Camp 2010 is just the beginning.

Summer Camp Festival 2010 (5.29.2010)

Saturday, May 29th

Where The Wild Things Are (Continued...)

We arrived at the entranceway to our tent. Another trap. A group of delinquents sat in a half circle with chairs and coolers not even 3 feet from our doorway, ignoring the hammock we had set up in attempt to claim a small plot of land. “What’s going on?” I asked them. Some mumbled responses. Their leader spoke out, “We were thinking we would set up a chill spot in this area right here…” They had already engulfed the areas on all sides of our tent, barely leaving us enough room to walk around. Having these prima donna teenagers set up their “chill spot” DIRECTLY outside the door of our tent wasn’t exactly what Karrin and I had in mind. It was, after all, our three-year anniversary. “You guys don’t have any room over where you’re at?” I asked them, “We are trying to enjoy the same festival you are.” The braces kid could sense a confrontation. “I know, this is stupid…” he said “let’s just go back over where we were”. The leader wasn’t having it. “Shut up!” he said with a hush, “Just let me handle this.” Glancing around the perimeter, I spotted countless areas where the clan could have set up their “chill spot”. The braces kid didn’t appreciate being spoken to this way. “Haven’t you eaten a bunch of mushrooms tonight?” As if to warn me I was dealing with a man on psychedelics. But it was obvious: these youngsters were confused and uncomfortable, most likely due to the fact that they hadn’t left those dreary woods for over 24 hours. Karrin had to push one of them aside to climb into our tent. For the next four hours, we laid half-awake and listened to them snarl, moan, and scratch away at the outside of their tents. Needless to say, we barely slept. Karrin and I were here to see music. We might spend 10% of our time at camp, grabbing something to eat or re-stocking on beers. But when the music is done for the night, we are looking for some rest. A shaky relationship with your neighbors is probably the last thing you want at a music festival. So as the sun came peeking through the trees, we tried our best to be polite, grabbed our things, and headed out for another day of music.

Rebelution

It was noon. I think the only thing that could have lifted me out of my tired funk at that point was a rinse up at the water station and a little bit of reggae. Ask and you shall receive. Although I’m no reggae connoisseur, this band, Rebelution, has become one of my favorite post-Marley groups to date. Their 2007 release “Courage to Grow” is one that I often turn to when the mood seems right. Vocalist Eric Rachmany has a unique and powerful voice. But the true authority lies in the hands of bassist Marley Williams. He pounds you in the chest with a thunderous, Rastafarian bass. Its prominence is impossible to ignore. I guess when you name your kid “Marley” you have to assume that he or she is going to grow up to become a reggae musician. Fortunately for Mr. Williams, things seem to be working out.

The Macpodz

After missing the Ragbirds the day before, I couldn’t wait to get over to the Starshine Stage for a date with Michigan rockstars, The Macpodz. These guys have been making waves on the national festival circuit the last couple of years and I couldn’t be happier for them. Straight out of Ann Arbor, The Macpodz throw down on some of the funkiest, most far-out jazz rock that you will ever hear. This is party music, fit for a late night slot to be sure. When I first heard the sounds of Brennan Andes’ bass at my very first Harvest Gathering in Lake City, MI, I was absolutely hooked. In my eyes, he offers the concrete foundation for which the rest of the band builds off of. Percussionist Nick Ayers is the definition of confidence. Often times, in front-man fashion, Nick will grab the microphone and start taunting the crowd as he moves swiftly around stage, hip-jiving and crowd-pointing; a true character indeed. To his left stands Ross Huff, the talented trumpeter that gives The Macpodz their true identity. With Griffin Bastian on drums and Jesse Clayton controlling the keys, these guys are a genuine jam powerhouse. All they needed now was a badass guitarist to round out their sound and give them the complete package… ask and you shall receive! When Jake Cinninger from Umphrey’s McGee came out, I knew things were about to get really heavy. Jake was slingin’ axe, Brennan was bouncing heads, and Ross was blowing the roof off with some crazy jazz trumpet as the entire band stood beaming with happiness. The vibes were infectious and it put a smile on my face to see such a good turnout for The Macpodz set. Festival goers, DO NOT miss this set.


Keller Williams

Keller Williams came out in his usual fashion: barefoot, bobbing his head form side to side, and jamming his acoustic guitar. A strange opening song called “India” meandered into a playful cover of “Stayin’ Alive” where Keller did a few disco circles around the stage. I had seen K-Whopper a handful of times by now but had only recently begun to fall in love with his music due in part to the exposure to his “Grateful Grass” and “Keller and the Keel’s” material. These bluegrass oriented projects really expose his versatility as a guitarist and although seeing Keller solo is a completely different beast, it gave me a newfound appreciation for his talent as a musician. Without question, KW is one of the more innovatively skillful guitarists on the jam scene today. Seemingly chaotic at times, Keller applies more hammer-on’s and pull-off’s per minute than almost anybody I’ve heard. When you transcribe that aggressive style to an acoustic guitar, you get an unbelievably unique brand of music that only a self-taught musician could have developed. After a tune or two, Keller brought out Danny Barnes and played a couple of his original songs including “Get It While You Can”, a song that can be found on Keller and the Keels’ latest release, “Thief”. With a fairly subdued “Freeker by the Speaker” and a couple more cover songs towards the end of his set, I was somewhat disappointed with how this show had turned out. It just didn’t seem to have as much spunk as some of the other performances I have witnessed. I will say, however, that KW’s rendition of Erykah Badu’s “Call Tyrone” was one of the more entertaining and humorous covers that I have heard him play.

The Clash of the Jam Titans

As I’ve said before, these two bands, moe. and Umphrey’s McGee, have been with Summer Camp since the beginning. They are undoubtedly the heart, soul, and spirit of this festival. This being my first year at SC, I was able to experience the friendly sense of competition that exists between these two jam titans first hand. Even the scheduling lends itself to a sort of “battle of the bands” type of weekend. With co-headliner slots the evening of the 29th, I thought it would be a good time to compare and contrast these two legends and determine which clan reigns supreme.

After re-fueling, and checking out the Pretty Lights party on the Starshine Stage, Karrin and I made it over to Sunshine for the start of UM’s second set. We had already missed the first sets of both these bands, but what can you do, you can’t win em’ all. Things got off to a solid start, moving into the music box intro “Preamble” and then “Mantis” early on. Without stopping, the band segued into “Hangover”, another one of my favorites. About halfway through this jam, the boys brought out Mike "Mad Dog" Mavridoglou to orchestrate some serious, serious madness. This guy was jumping around the stage, pointing and hollering, slamming his fist down into his open hand to keep time. This was absolute improvisation… music in its purest form. Even the band members stood grinning, wondering what the conductor was going to have them do next. With the addition of Mad Dog’s “Filthy Little Secret” horn section towards the end of the set, an unbelievable rendition of MJ’s “Don’t Stop ‘til You Get Enough”, and a ridiculously shreddy “Nothing Too Fancy”, we had certainly witnessed a continuation of last night’s throw-down. UM quite literally went out with a bang, fireworks and all.

When we made it over to Moonshine for moe., they were already jamming full fledged. As I said in my Friday coverage, Rob Derhak is the first noticeable difference that I find between these two bands. Rob is a monster on the bass and offers a true prominence that is seemingly absent amidst Umphrey’s McGee and Ryan Stasik. In the special weapons category, moe. wins again. Jim Loughlin is an absolute beast on the xylophone. His talent with this instrument is staple to the sound of moe. Some of my favorite songs by this band feature prominent xylophone segments. But is it enough to de-throne king Umphrey’s? In terms of vocals, Umphrey’s comes out on top by a long shot. Not that moe. is ever “bad” sounding or even out of tune. After all, these guys are 80% instrumental. But Brendan Bayliss has a singing voice that is better than all 5 moe.’s combined. Hearing him belt MJ earlier that night sent chills down my spine. Furthermore, in my Friday coverage I spoke of UM’s incredible ability to create and resolve tension. If you were to look at a line graph representing show duration vs. level of emotion at an Umphrey’s performance, it would be a series of peaks and valleys moving at a steady increase, ultimately concluding with a sky-high mountain that towers above all others. Umphrey’s is in complete control of all emotional elements and knows exactly when and where they need to be distributed and in what proportions. When I listen to moe., they put me up on a peak and never let me down. The first 5 songs of this set were clocking in at almost 20 minutes apiece. 20 minutes of pure, head-spinning, psychedelic shredding. Now, don’t get me wrong, Al and Chuck are off the charts. These guys can absolutely rip. They play with a level of psychedelia that even Jake Cinninger has trouble attaining. But when these guys start jamming (often times for over 30 minutes at a time), I just can’t help but sometimes wonder: “when’s it going to end?”

In the end, I give the advantage to Umphrey’s. Their music is rife with flexibility and engages the listener on all levels, offering an all-encompassing musical experience that lies beyond the capabilities of moe. But don’t take my word for it. See these bands for yourself. For each of them are true jam titans, well on their way to achieving the status of immortality in the realm of modern day jam music.

Summer Camp Festival 2010 (5.28.2010)

Friday, May 28th

The sun came peeking into our little tent around 8:30 that morning. Waking up on the ground is never fun. Your body lets you know immediately that it doesn’t appreciate it very much. Karrin had grabbed a faulty air mattress but how could she have ever known… the Pond’s have ten of everything. It was a crapshoot. Some of those mattresses could have been 30 years old. Regardless, we were up and at em’ and ready for the day’s events. Morning time is the best at festivals; a time for reflection, relaxation, and maybe a tall Bloody Mary to replenish your juices. Breakfast is always prime, too. After taking the vehicle in for a little check up (long story), we made it back to the festival grounds just as our Michigan friends, the Ragbirds were finishing up their early set. An unfortunate circumstance but lucky for us, moe. was up next.

moe.

Without a cloud in the sky, I knew it was going to be a scorcher. It was about 1:00pm and 120 degrees when we made our way over to the Moonshine stage and the Summer Campers were out en masse. I immediately striped down to my standard festival attire – nothing but a pair of shorts – and started getting loose with moe. on stage orchestrating some serious jams. They opened up with “Rebubula” – one of those tunes that entice immediate recognition even if you are unsure about its title like I was. We took a minute to lather on some sunscreen and were instantly surrounded by a mob of sweaty beggars, holding their hands out with bloodshot eyes and chapped lips, already burnt to a crisp. We squirted a few globs into these crazed scroungers’ hands and I thought to myself “that ought to hold them off, at least for now”. I had only recently been turned on to the magic of moe. Karrin and I had seen them here in Atlanta not too long ago and they had really blown our lids. Rob Derhak began slapping his bass around like a rented mule and the fans were just eating it up. Rob truly lays down a foundation for this band that many progressive acts are lacking these days. Not only that, but often times it appears as if the two lead guitar players, Chuck and Al, are laying down the rhythm while Rob is taking off on some psychedelic lead playing that sounds like it was written for the two guitarists. With a sit-in by Ivan Neville on keys during “Happy Hour Hero”, moe. was really taking flight. It was a phenomenal introduction to both the Moonshine stage and the 10th annual Summer Camp Festival in general. This band has played this festival for 10 years running. They are at home here, and I couldn’t wait to hear more. Lucky for us, they had headliner slots for the next two nights.


Papadosio > Cornmeal > Yonder Mountain String Band

After our first moe.down of the weekend, we meandered over to the Campfire Stage for a date with the jamtronica band, Papadosio. Despite my continued frustration with the Campfire Stage and its limited access both visually and acoustically, I wiggled my way to the front of the stage only to be blown backwards by a sonic blast of jam fusion. These guys had an absolutely ripping lead guitarist and the keyboardist/synthesist had me surfing space waves deep into some unknown universe. The gravitational pull was unrelenting. For the few songs that I heard, I was profoundly impressed. But it was hot as hell and I needed out. I found Karrin and Amy underneath a shade spot so I collapsed and sucked down a liter of Camelbak to get my Bearingsbak.


As the sun got lower and lower in the sky, you could almost feel the entire mood of the festival shifting upwards. But we still had a long ways to go. It was 5:00 and I was psyched to see Cornmeal get started on the Moonshine Stage. They really twisted my wits the night before on the “secret” stage and left me curious as to what they might sound like with little microphones attached to their instruments. My friends, they did not disappoint. Guitarist Kris Nowak sounded even better than the night before. He resembled a mad scientist on stage, mixing and stirring a whole mess of different flasks and test tubes, filled with various musichemicals – bluegrass, americana, jam, psychadelia, all fuming and spraying their toxic liquids in different directions. I couldn’t get enough. Allie was shredding the strings off her fiddle… n’ough said. With a drummer to add to their progressive spirit, this group had the recipe for a truly unique roots band that I will surely be hearing more of in the future. On our way over to the water station, we caught a glimpse of STS9 blowing up the Sunshine Stage. Without even stopping to discuss it, Karrin and I just sort of kept walking… with a handful of albums and live recordings, and a number of chances to win my heart at various summer festivals, STS9 has yet to prove to me that they play anything worth skipping other acts for. I’m no fortune teller, but I suspect an early fall-out from this band on the entire music scene in general. I suppose only the test of time will prove me wrong.




The sun was dipping below the tree level now, and Yonder Mountain String Band was just getting started. With sinking temperatures, I was already feeling a breathe of fresh air. I had been introduced to Yonder at the 2008 Rothbury Festival and have only grown more and more appreciative of their music since that day. Mandolin maestro Jeff Austin has a voice that’s grown on me like the vines on the MSU Auditorium. It’s harmonious, raw, and only augmented by the support of each of his three band mates – Adam Aijala on guitar, Dave Johnston on banjo, and Ben Kaufmann on the stand-up bass. Adam and Dave seem to be as equally shreddy as Jeff and certainly know how to throw down on a good old-fashioned pick-fest when the time is right. But it’s not even the capacity for jam that I love about this band so much. Once in awhile, Yonder will bust into these slower paced, reggae-esque type strumming patterns that offer a truly unique approach to the jamgrass structure. These segments are playful and engaging and tend to offer a timely interruption to the intenseness of the songs that usually surround it. Never out of the question at this point in the show is a little scat singing from Jeff, which really sends the crowd into a frenzy. With the exception of Bill Monroe’s classic “Kentucky Mandolin”, the boys didn’t play a single song that I recognized which was a bit of a disappointment to me. I have 5 volumes worth of “Mountain Tracks” and I think they might have played one song off of these 5 recordings. Regardless, Yonder put on a damn good show that only served as a continuation of the bluegrass buzz I had been feeling ever since Cornmeal… Summer Camp was getting good.


Umphrey’s McGee

We made it over to the Sunshine Stage just as Umphrey’s McGee was getting started. The sun was nearly out of sight now and I could tell that the entire festival was feeling reinvigorated. Umphrey’s, much like moe., are regulars at this festival and it was evident that they were excited to be present. During the first portion of the set, UM went into exploration mode, creating and semi-resolving tension at every available opportunity. The pressure just kept building. Percussionist Andy Farag really knows how to supplement these musical shifts, always seeming to slide his hands across those chimes at the perfect moments. Towards the end of “The Linear”, I could feel the guitars slowly gaining presence… a subtle shift in tone to a more raw and powerful sound; Brendan and Jake applying more and more force with their picking hands. As soon as the “Hajimemashite” hammer hit, I knew we were experiencing the first true climax of the set. It was the release of nearly 40 minutes worth of pressure and the crowd was going ape shit. Jake Cinninger was attacking the neck of his guitar, barely giving it (and me) enough time to breathe. Now, don’t get me wrong, Jake is undoubtedly one of my favorite musicians on the jam circuit. The guy has talent oozing out of every pore in his body. But good lord man, relax. When Jake is shredding, he has this extremely fast, extremely succinct style of play that can sometimes lose a certain element of fluidity. Sometimes I find myself wishing he would draw some of his notes out longer or take a quick breather. Sometimes… less is more. Without stopping, UM ventured into “Plunger” and then slowed things down for a hand-holding version of “Gulf Stream” where Brendan let his amazing voice ring out. To close out the set, they gave us the first cover song of the weekend, “Lisztomania”. I’m not entirely sure if this song has anything to do with the 1975 film featuring Roger Daltry of The Who or if it’s a cover song of the pop band Phoenix, but whatever the case, this was an unbelievably catchy tune that I haven’t been able to stop humming for almost two weeks now. Umphrey’s can cover almost anything and cover it well. I always look forward to these little surprises and this particular one set the stage for what would become an amazing choice of cover songs over the course of the weekend.

Set two got going with a bang. Jake started ripping out the opening lines of “40’s Theme” and I knew it was going to be a good set. After a bit of raucous fun, the song broke down into a super heavy, dubbed out dance party complete with a steady, bone-rattling kick drum, electronic clap snare, and a bassline that was irresistible. I love these segments at UM shows. For a brief minute you have the opportunity to regain your senses, pull your sagging face back into position and move your body around to loosen things up a bit. But just when I thought we were safe, Jake came crashing down on the Sunshine Stage like lightening and began surgically removing everyone’s face before they could even realize what happened. This song was definitely a highlight for me. When the boys transitioned into a cover of the Talking Heads’ “Girlfriend is Better” I nearly lost it. Brendan was spot on with his David Byrne-like vocals and the band absolutely nailed it. Later on in the set, the guys went into “Glory”, an astounding climax equivalent to the first set’s “Hajimemashite” shredder. To the outside observer, it must have sounded like BP had just busted a pipe attempting to drill into the earth's crust – a thunderous explosion indeed. With bright white lights blasting us in the face and the crowd in a glorious uproar, it had been confirmed: Umphrey's had just played the two best sets of music at Summer Camp so far.


Where the Wild Things Are

Deciding to call it a day, we headed back to camp to settle in and rest up for another fun filled day of music. Little did we know we would be walking straight into a trap. As we approached our camp, we spotted them… a whole pack of juvenile delinquents lurking eerily around our tent. Where had they come from? Every time we had returned to camp to refuel that afternoon, we had noticed this group slowly increasing in size, but never posing an immediate threat to our personal space. Additionally, we had never seen them set foot outside of the woods. What could they have been doing all this time? With the onset of nighttime, things had really gotten out of hand. There were hoards of them now with tents half-erected on all sides of us… as if they had gotten halfway through the set-up process when the drugs kicked in. I caught a glimpse of one of them with my headlamp… eyes as big as bowling balls, a deer caught in the headlights, braces on his teeth… wait a second… braces? "How old are you?" I thought to myself. He looked around in panic. "Does your mother know you’re here? Does she know you’ve been infected with LSD!?!?"

To be continued...

Summer Camp Festival 2010 (5.27.2010)

Thursday, May 27th

The second I swiped that card of mine, I was clocking out for good… not just clocking out from work for the day, or even the next four days, but clocking out from reality, from the stresses of the everyday grind and from the grip of father time himself. I stepped into my vehicle and shed my white-collar garments right there on the spot. Freedom can take on many different forms – speeding barefoot and shirtless out of the parking lot of a job you despise, feeling that weightless sensation as the wheels of your 747 first leave the ground, “3 days of peace and music”. I was airport bound and I couldn’t help but smile thinking about the escort that sat waiting patiently for my arrival at Chicago Midway. Karrin had been charged with complete and total control over all festival preparations this year and I shall never underestimate her skills again. As daunting of a task as this appears to be, she couldn’t have done a better job – all of our camping necessities, pre-cooked food, and copious supplies... not to mention enough beer to throw an Alpha Beta Chi party (already chilling on ice). It was a fairly smooth transition out of downtown Chicago and it wasn’t long before we were cruising into the Illinois boonies on a heat-seeking mission for Chillicothe. Surprisingly enough, we didn’t pass a single Cherry-Top on our approach to Summer Camp Festival. We did, however, narrowly avoid a confrontation with a large doe who would have surely come out on the short end of the deal.

The festival entrance was hard to miss and even though it was only Thursday night, the place was getting more and more packed by the minute. We meandered into the parking area as a line of lonely volunteers stood waving their flags and flashlights around every which way, lacking any sort of discernible pattern. They stood with a mild-mannered expression, undoubtedly thinking about the music they were missing or the impending conclusion of their shift, perhaps pre-occupied with some form of substance abuse to pass the time. When we finally parked our vehicle, we jumped out, did a quick stretch and began organizing our thoughts. Summer Camp was a bit different than most of the festivals I had been to before. Here, you park you car and then make the long trek deep into the woods to set up camp. The festival gates/security separates the entire parking lot from the festival grounds. In my opinion, camping in the woods is the only way to get the full experience; however, there’s a certain sense of security with being able to set up shop right next to your vehicle. We had to be particularly thoughtful that weekend about the things we brought with us to camp, and the things we left behind. It would be nice to have 100% faith in our fellow festival-goers at an event this size, but you and I both know that will never be true. As we prepped ourselves for our first trip into the grounds, we brought with us the necessities – our tent, headlamps, and a cooler full of food (plus a secret stash of beers buried beneath 6 inches of ice). We slipped by unscathed and found ourselves a comfy little spot deep in the woods, quite a ways off of the beaten path. This spot, at least for tonight, would prove to be quite a tranquil little oasis.

Thursday evening was, for the most part, fairly underwhelming in terms of music. By the time we got our tent set up and headed out towards the action, 30db was deep into their late-night set at the Campfire Stage. A stage which I came to despise from the second I laid ears on it. Had the organizers put a single minute’s worth of thought into the set-up of this thing? The Campfire Stage sat next to the Big Red Barn, on the crest of a hill that extended on a gradual slope downwards for over 50 yards in every direction. If you weren’t standing within 10 feet of the main speakers, you had absolutely no chance of hearing or seeing the action on stage. A simple reversal of this stage’s placement, to a position at the bottom of the hill, would have made sense both visually and acoustically. The people sitting around that campfire were interested in hearing the music, not feeling like they are at show with water in their ears or a big pillow bungeed around their head. 30db was the only act going on at that moment so the crowd was pretty substantial and I wasn’t about to go pushing my way towards the front. It was way too early in the weekend for that. After listening to the inaudible sounds of Jeff Austin and Brendan Bayliss for awhile, we met up with Frazier and Amy and headed inside the barn for Ivan Neville and Dumpstaphunk. It was good to see old friends again. We sipped on a couple beers while the sounds of some pretty straight-forward N’awlins funk filled the Big Red Barn whose temperature was nothing but on the rise. We had seen enough. On our way back to camp, we stumbled upon a “secret, secret, set” being performed by local jamgrass rippers, Cornmeal, in the middle of the woods. Amplification was minimal and intimacy, maximal. Although I was aware of this band, this would be my first exposure to their music. Instrumentation seemed to be their forte and I had no complaints. There were two stand-outs that evening in my opinion – Kris Nowak was absolutely picking my brain to pieces with his jammy, bluegrass guitar as the talented Miss Allie Kral ran her spidery fingers up and down the neck of her fiddle in a fiery fashion that I haven’t seen for quite some time. Allie would prove to be one of the most in-demand musicians of the weekend (along with Danny Barnes who was, well, everywhere), lending her tightly honed skills to numerous guest performances over the course of the next three days. Just before our departure, a young man behind me turned to his friend and exclaimed “This is NOT bluegrass”. Even he was keen to the elusive nature of this talented group of musicians. This little sneak peak into the mind's of the Cornmealers had me both excited about their Friday afternoon performance, and bummed out about missing their Thursday night set earlier that evening. It was time to call it quits. Karrin and I headed back to camp and had no trouble drifting off to sleep. It had been a long day. And our rest would be vital.