A warm Av-gas fragranced breeze caressed our nostrils as we alighted from Jetstar's luncheon flight to the Sunshine Coast. Ah, Queensland. Beautiful one day, perfect the next!.
Luggage loaded, Chris H piloted us through the most persistent series of roundabouts north of the border to Chris and Jenny's beautiful home at Sunshine Beach. Home to more celebrities than you can poke a stick at, Sunshine was to be our address for the next six days. Palms, parrots and Pandanus trees are a welcome change from fog and 8 degree maximum days. I would welcome any excuse to escape Canberra in July, and Jenny and Chris' invitation to visit fitted the bill. In addition, we had accepted a further invitation to Christmas in July at Michelle and Chris M's new abode at Peregian Springs. It would appear if you're male and Christened, chances are you will end up in Queensland.
A turkey, raised to feed a multitude, gobbled obligingly as we toasted each other with bubbly previously purchased in Duke Street. Sunshine Beach's shopping strip would do very well out of us in the following few days, with Tru and Pru's giftwares a constant source.
Some of the worst jokes ever written were contained within the beautifully presented bonbons that disgorged trinkets and paper hats under applied pressure. Not that we needed prompting with Chris and Andrew in top form and Michelle and Kate leading the singing. An effort was made at some stage to locate the rings of Saturn via telescope, however Chris M had difficulty finding the correct coordinates. I was having difficulty locating my napkin ring.
Michelle shooed me from the kitchen once again as she cling-wrapped the leftovers and foiled the turkey's attempt to escape (my picky fingers). Ding, dong! That will be Jenny and Chris H returning from a night at the theatre in Caloundra aka Fyshwick by the Sea. Would you care for a small slice of pecan pie, enquired Michelle? No thanks, Chris responded, I'd prefer a large one!
As we had a breakfast engagement some 10 hours hence, we bade Chris, Michelle, Kate and Andrew goodnight and headed Sunshine bound. See you at 10am!.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall
It's Easter Monday/Anzac Day and the last chance to sample 2011's Bluesfest. Even the best of times must come to an end. Whether our bodies could handle another day is debatable ~ our feet and spines have taken a pounding!.
Today's lineup features festival headliners Uncle Bob, Elvis, Buffy Sainte-Marie and Jethro Tull. As a result we will little time to sample the delights of the smaller stages. A trip to Ballina airport to farewell James has also eaten into the day. Chris and Paulette, however, have hit the festival early to catch performances by Michelle Shocked and Tony Joe White.
According to Chris, Michelle railed against the worldwide rapacious money-grubbers and their quest to extract as much profit as is possible at the expense of the poor and downtrodden. The loss of her intellectual property was another pet topic. The performance was relaxed and suited the mood of the festival in the early afternoon, with the audience treated to some favorites that they participated in with enthusiasm. At the end, Michelle got down into the crowd and sang Blowing In The Wind, passing the microphone around so that audience members could sing a verse. Michele still looks like the punk skater she was and, like many at the Festival, is a generous performer who still wants to change the world.
Tony Joe White gave his usual excellent, slightly dour, performance - just him and his guitar and his old amp with occasional help from his drummer. While he can be a bit of a grump he did crack a smile a few times and Victory! - responded to some audience requests, even thanking someone for a suggestion that he had not sung for years. He was enjoying himself as was the audience and the myriad of photographers who always seem to appear for Tony Joe - we guess a journeyman on the stark stage makes for good shots. The only disappointment was that he did not sing Rainy Night in Georgia but we did get Polk Salad Annie ~ her mama was a mean, vicious woman. Workin' on the chain gang will do that to you. It was also a shame that the set did not go on long enough to get truly swampy!.
Arriving just after 5pm, Kim and I headed straight to the Jambalaya tent to see the highly-touted soulster Barrence Whitfield. Rhythms magazine's summary referenced Little Richard and James Brown and said we had better be ready for this rockabilly, roots, jump blues, funk and soul singer. Now that's a big call. No problem, as a scorching performance of sweating, pumping, dance-inducing music backed by the Rockwiz band had us shaking!. A highlight of the set was an amazing version of the Stooges' I Want To Be Your Dog. Just as amazing was the site of Barrence pogo-ing around the entire bandstand whilst divesting himself of his clothes.
The new festival grounds have made it easier to get from one tent to another, but finding one another is another matter ~ phone-tag rules. Which makes my bumping into our old friend Rob (Mac) McKinnon a miracle. Sent on a mission to secure a drink, we met as he was heading towards Barrence. I passed on Kim's location to him (on the right near the second stanchion), and said See you soon. Yeah, sure.
Catching up with Chris, Paulette, Olivia and Rhys near Mojo, we positioned ourselves strategically for Buffy ~ just in front of a bunch of festival fascisti and their seats. That'll learn 'em. Buffy Sainte-Marie, hmmmm? What should we expect from a Cree Indian anti-war human rights icon blacklisted by the US Government ~ hopefully it will not be too strident.
We needn't have worried ~ Buffy was ace. Backed by a power trio of Canadian indigenes, Buffy good-naturedly regaled us with stories of her life as a sixties female singer-songwriter and generally stuck it to The Man. Bankers, Government, Oil and the entire war-machine were lambasted. You do realise by now I have some very strong opinions she said in between performing her compositions including the hits Universal Soldier and Until It's Time For You To Go. Unexpectedly, Buffy was a highlight of this year's Bluesfest.
We turned around to exit Mojo and bumped straight into Mac! Now, that's karma.
Doing the Boom Boom!! Agitated by his faulty Fender Reverb amp, leather-lunged Eli "Paperboy" Reed twiddle with the volume knob in an attempt to coax an acceptable sound. Let me help you Eli pleaded as a swarm of sound technicians hovered around his amp and scratched their heads. I'll help myself he cried, and removed the lead from the replacement amp and stuck it in the correct jack. That's better.
Next up, a repeat performance by Osibisa at Crossroads. After Santana, Osibisa were our introduction in the early seventies to what was later called World Music. An energetic fusion of Afro/Caribbean/Latin Jazzrock, everyone of us had or knew someone who had their 1971 self-titled album. Osibisa had even played Canberra in 1975 at the legendary Cotter Tavern prior to its' fiery demise with Paulette scoring an invitation to the after-gig party at the Lakeside. Good music is good music no matter when it was produced, and following an excellent rendition of The Last Post, the tent was invaded by a new generation of fervent Osibisa fans.
Despite Osibisa's appeal, Bob Dylan was scheduled for 8.30 and we required sustenance. Singing long-forgotten refrains, we moved off in the direction of the festival food-hall. After consuming some tasty Indian food we commenced our trek towards a good vantage point in Mojo. The best of luck with that, as every space with fifty metres of the nearest exterior screen was taken. Right on time the screen lit up with a long distance view of some stick figures walking onto the stage. Where are the close-ups?
A roar poured out of the tent as a stick figure in a white sombrero walked up to a keyboard. Where are the close-ups, and why are the side-screens blanked out?. The first chord of Don't Think Twice It's Alright sounded and immediately transformed into a horrendous roar of annoying feedback. Immediately the clouds opened and a hard rain fell on us causing an immediate scramble for cover. Stuff that, let's go to see Jethro Tull.
An ever swelling crowd invaded the Crossroads tent for Jethro Tull. Like Bob, they started right on time, but unlike Bob, they delivered.
Remember the early 70's when bands like Yes, Genesis, Emerson, Lake and Palmer did their best to escape up their prog-rock arses?. Well here's a stripped-down version of our 1972 effort Thick As A Brick, chuckled Ian Anderson. Only 20 minutes later, an enormous roar greeted its conclusion. In remarkably good shape, Ian shamanically cavorted around the stage wielding his flute and playing up to the crowd.
Despite my enjoyment of Tull, I felt uneasy about abandoning Bob so readily and made my way back to a darkened Mojo. Is it already over? I fretted, as I made my way down to a closer vantage point on the left. Nope, Bob and the band ambled back on and launched into Like A Rolling Stone. The side screens remained unused and the sound had only marginally improved as he sleepwalked through those classic lines.
As many will argue they are his songs and he can sing them any damn way he likes, but shit, put a bit of effort in Bob!. I will not accept any excuses regarding his age as Wanda Jackson's new version of his Thunder On The Mountain is a stormer and she is four years older. Thankfully the kid next to me tunefully sang Bob's chorus for him as I remained disappointed and surprisingly indifferent.
Where's the Burt Bacharach songs?, the chair wielding doctor's wives pondered, as Elvis Costello and the Imposters opened with Pump it Up and followed immediately with Mystery Dance. Circled in a wagon train, they attempted to hold back the crowd who gleefully trampled their chairs into the mud. That'll learn 'em!.
Elvis was clearly rapt as he exchanged banter with the crowd and guitars with his technician. Shipbuilding, Clubland, Chelsea and a poignant Alison captured us and rewarded those who returned to Mojo after Dylan. The Imposters shone with Pete Thomas pounding out a huge rhythm and Steve Nieve impressing on a bank of keyboards and theremin. Unobtrusively, bassist Davey Faragher anchored the band and contributed backing vocals.
Let's bring on two of the best singers around teased Elvis. Irma?, Mavis? I thought momentarily. Nope, the Secret Sisters, who earlier today had sung on the tiny APRA stage, tentatively took up a position behind a microphone and sang the one word chorus of Virginia in support. Interesting....... How about another? asked Elvis and launched into Hank's Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do?, sharing lead vocals with the obviously star-struck girls. Great!
Many of Elvis' songs were from My Aim Is True, further emphasising what a classic album that is. He and the band returned for a rousing encore of Oliver's Army and What's so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding before we happily headed for the buses home. Irma's band provided exit music winding down with the Blues Brother's theme ringing our ears.
Today's lineup features festival headliners Uncle Bob, Elvis, Buffy Sainte-Marie and Jethro Tull. As a result we will little time to sample the delights of the smaller stages. A trip to Ballina airport to farewell James has also eaten into the day. Chris and Paulette, however, have hit the festival early to catch performances by Michelle Shocked and Tony Joe White.
According to Chris, Michelle railed against the worldwide rapacious money-grubbers and their quest to extract as much profit as is possible at the expense of the poor and downtrodden. The loss of her intellectual property was another pet topic. The performance was relaxed and suited the mood of the festival in the early afternoon, with the audience treated to some favorites that they participated in with enthusiasm. At the end, Michelle got down into the crowd and sang Blowing In The Wind, passing the microphone around so that audience members could sing a verse. Michele still looks like the punk skater she was and, like many at the Festival, is a generous performer who still wants to change the world.
Tony Joe White gave his usual excellent, slightly dour, performance - just him and his guitar and his old amp with occasional help from his drummer. While he can be a bit of a grump he did crack a smile a few times and Victory! - responded to some audience requests, even thanking someone for a suggestion that he had not sung for years. He was enjoying himself as was the audience and the myriad of photographers who always seem to appear for Tony Joe - we guess a journeyman on the stark stage makes for good shots. The only disappointment was that he did not sing Rainy Night in Georgia but we did get Polk Salad Annie ~ her mama was a mean, vicious woman. Workin' on the chain gang will do that to you. It was also a shame that the set did not go on long enough to get truly swampy!.
Arriving just after 5pm, Kim and I headed straight to the Jambalaya tent to see the highly-touted soulster Barrence Whitfield. Rhythms magazine's summary referenced Little Richard and James Brown and said we had better be ready for this rockabilly, roots, jump blues, funk and soul singer. Now that's a big call. No problem, as a scorching performance of sweating, pumping, dance-inducing music backed by the Rockwiz band had us shaking!. A highlight of the set was an amazing version of the Stooges' I Want To Be Your Dog. Just as amazing was the site of Barrence pogo-ing around the entire bandstand whilst divesting himself of his clothes.
The new festival grounds have made it easier to get from one tent to another, but finding one another is another matter ~ phone-tag rules. Which makes my bumping into our old friend Rob (Mac) McKinnon a miracle. Sent on a mission to secure a drink, we met as he was heading towards Barrence. I passed on Kim's location to him (on the right near the second stanchion), and said See you soon. Yeah, sure.
Catching up with Chris, Paulette, Olivia and Rhys near Mojo, we positioned ourselves strategically for Buffy ~ just in front of a bunch of festival fascisti and their seats. That'll learn 'em. Buffy Sainte-Marie, hmmmm? What should we expect from a Cree Indian anti-war human rights icon blacklisted by the US Government ~ hopefully it will not be too strident.
We needn't have worried ~ Buffy was ace. Backed by a power trio of Canadian indigenes, Buffy good-naturedly regaled us with stories of her life as a sixties female singer-songwriter and generally stuck it to The Man. Bankers, Government, Oil and the entire war-machine were lambasted. You do realise by now I have some very strong opinions she said in between performing her compositions including the hits Universal Soldier and Until It's Time For You To Go. Unexpectedly, Buffy was a highlight of this year's Bluesfest.
We turned around to exit Mojo and bumped straight into Mac! Now, that's karma.
Doing the Boom Boom!! Agitated by his faulty Fender Reverb amp, leather-lunged Eli "Paperboy" Reed twiddle with the volume knob in an attempt to coax an acceptable sound. Let me help you Eli pleaded as a swarm of sound technicians hovered around his amp and scratched their heads. I'll help myself he cried, and removed the lead from the replacement amp and stuck it in the correct jack. That's better.
Next up, a repeat performance by Osibisa at Crossroads. After Santana, Osibisa were our introduction in the early seventies to what was later called World Music. An energetic fusion of Afro/Caribbean/Latin Jazzrock, everyone of us had or knew someone who had their 1971 self-titled album. Osibisa had even played Canberra in 1975 at the legendary Cotter Tavern prior to its' fiery demise with Paulette scoring an invitation to the after-gig party at the Lakeside. Good music is good music no matter when it was produced, and following an excellent rendition of The Last Post, the tent was invaded by a new generation of fervent Osibisa fans.
Despite Osibisa's appeal, Bob Dylan was scheduled for 8.30 and we required sustenance. Singing long-forgotten refrains, we moved off in the direction of the festival food-hall. After consuming some tasty Indian food we commenced our trek towards a good vantage point in Mojo. The best of luck with that, as every space with fifty metres of the nearest exterior screen was taken. Right on time the screen lit up with a long distance view of some stick figures walking onto the stage. Where are the close-ups?
A roar poured out of the tent as a stick figure in a white sombrero walked up to a keyboard. Where are the close-ups, and why are the side-screens blanked out?. The first chord of Don't Think Twice It's Alright sounded and immediately transformed into a horrendous roar of annoying feedback. Immediately the clouds opened and a hard rain fell on us causing an immediate scramble for cover. Stuff that, let's go to see Jethro Tull.
An ever swelling crowd invaded the Crossroads tent for Jethro Tull. Like Bob, they started right on time, but unlike Bob, they delivered.
Remember the early 70's when bands like Yes, Genesis, Emerson, Lake and Palmer did their best to escape up their prog-rock arses?. Well here's a stripped-down version of our 1972 effort Thick As A Brick, chuckled Ian Anderson. Only 20 minutes later, an enormous roar greeted its conclusion. In remarkably good shape, Ian shamanically cavorted around the stage wielding his flute and playing up to the crowd.
Despite my enjoyment of Tull, I felt uneasy about abandoning Bob so readily and made my way back to a darkened Mojo. Is it already over? I fretted, as I made my way down to a closer vantage point on the left. Nope, Bob and the band ambled back on and launched into Like A Rolling Stone. The side screens remained unused and the sound had only marginally improved as he sleepwalked through those classic lines.
As many will argue they are his songs and he can sing them any damn way he likes, but shit, put a bit of effort in Bob!. I will not accept any excuses regarding his age as Wanda Jackson's new version of his Thunder On The Mountain is a stormer and she is four years older. Thankfully the kid next to me tunefully sang Bob's chorus for him as I remained disappointed and surprisingly indifferent.
Where's the Burt Bacharach songs?, the chair wielding doctor's wives pondered, as Elvis Costello and the Imposters opened with Pump it Up and followed immediately with Mystery Dance. Circled in a wagon train, they attempted to hold back the crowd who gleefully trampled their chairs into the mud. That'll learn 'em!.
Elvis was clearly rapt as he exchanged banter with the crowd and guitars with his technician. Shipbuilding, Clubland, Chelsea and a poignant Alison captured us and rewarded those who returned to Mojo after Dylan. The Imposters shone with Pete Thomas pounding out a huge rhythm and Steve Nieve impressing on a bank of keyboards and theremin. Unobtrusively, bassist Davey Faragher anchored the band and contributed backing vocals.
Let's bring on two of the best singers around teased Elvis. Irma?, Mavis? I thought momentarily. Nope, the Secret Sisters, who earlier today had sung on the tiny APRA stage, tentatively took up a position behind a microphone and sang the one word chorus of Virginia in support. Interesting....... How about another? asked Elvis and launched into Hank's Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do?, sharing lead vocals with the obviously star-struck girls. Great!
Many of Elvis' songs were from My Aim Is True, further emphasising what a classic album that is. He and the band returned for a rousing encore of Oliver's Army and What's so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding before we happily headed for the buses home. Irma's band provided exit music winding down with the Blues Brother's theme ringing our ears.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Best Bluesfest!
How about that weather! We have been transported to some legendary Bluesfest where the rain doesn't fall and gumboot wearers begin to doubt their purchases. It's not quite dry and dusty, but that's probably due to all the beer and wine spilt jostling through the crowds.
This year has been the best!. From the amazing lineup and fabulous performances to the most amiable, mixed generational crowd you could imagine. The only sad faces are the poor stiffs busted by sniffer dogs ~ but who needs dope when everyone seems to be on some natural high? Wow!, Byron must be getting to me, I sound like some superannuated hippie.
What day is it? Oh yeah, Monday. So here's the review of Easter Sunday:
I woke up this morning and had myself a beer. Not quite, instead I ate organic wood fired sourdough hot cross buns to lay a foundation for beer.
By 2pm we were back on the bus, being driven by a bloke who's dad knows my cousin Sue-Ellen in Lismore. It's that sort of holiday. I'm almost expecting Blanches to change their bus destination from Bluesfest to Further. First stop after exiting: Crossroads. Who wouldn't when the lineup reads Little Feat, Mavis Staples, Irma Thomas and the Blind Boys of Alabama with Aaron Neville.
You've got to put on your sailin shoes
Put on your sailin shoes
Everyone will start to cheer
When you put on your sailin shoes.
Damn!, Feat were good. Pity they didn't have the time to play Tripe Face Boogie. What's the idea of no encores?. This is a festival!.
I almost felt disappointed with Mavis Staples when she performed the same testifying set as the day before, but how can you argue with heavenly perfection?.
Next up Irma, after Dylan my main reason for attending Bluesfest. A great introduction by her sax player: Will you welcome to the stage the Queen of New Orleans, Irrrrrrrmmmmmmma Thomas!. Rapturous applause as she was assisted on stage. Moving stiffly throughout an hour she sure surprised a lot of people who thought the Stones first sung Heart of Stone aka Ruler of My Heart and Time Is On My Side. Referring to an earlier health problem she told us There was a time when I never sang that song as I didn't think time was on my side, but thankfully those days are behind me.
The biggest surprise however was reserved for Irma and the band when she sang a song from a Grammy winning album. How was she to know Simply the Best had been the NRL theme-song as sung by Tina Turner. It's lyrics are practically engraved on our hearts!. We engaged in some Noo Orlans hankie -waving chorusing during Iko Iko and just had a great time. As James post-texted me Irma was the goods.
Sunset is my favourite festival time ~ when the patchouli oil starts wafting and the inflated balloons bob above the crowd. It's also in-between acts on the main stages and a good time to check out the smaller venues. Lisa Miller was performing at Juke Joint interspersing great covers between original material. Superfly, You're gonna make your fortune by and by! At APRA crowds were bopping to the Afro-Creole of Seychelles band Grace Barbe Afro Kreol.
A great festival needs to present acts that appeal to a wide range of ages and this year's Bluesfest delivers in spades!. A huge crowd of early twenties were jammed into the big Mojo tent to see Washington, and would definitely move on later to The Cat Empire. At Jambalaya the Melbourne Ska Orchestra pumped out ska to an sweating, heaving moon-stomping mass of humanity.
The Saltwater Band, featuring Garrumul, sang and performed a set in an indigenous language that makes you ashamed Aussie children are not taught the same. The biggest bassist you have ever seen proved that plaid and camouflage is still an appealing combination.
Did I mention the weather has been perfect? Most of the time we have been hot and thirsty. Drinking all that XXXX requires sustenance, and subsequently Chris and I have developed a real taste for what's on offer at the Sauerkraut Sisters. In addition, the local pies (pronounced lo-cal) are winners. BTW today's best t-shirt read Drink your beer, there are kids in India who are sober.
Feigning tiredness, Kim, Paulette and I decided an early night was appropriate and left it to Chris, Rhys and James to fly the 28 Ruskin Street flag.
James reports: After enjoying an extended stay on the beach for the third day in a row, it was time to mosey towards the "bluesy" as I've touted it. Arriving around sunset, we started our evening with Irma Thomas. Ruler of my heart was definitely a highlight. We then shuffled our way across to the Jambalaya tent for the awesome guitar work of Jeff Lang and Co. Hunger set in by the time Jeffrey had completed his wowing of the crowd.
After a quick lamb curry and samosa it was time for the Melbourne Ska Orchestra. By far the largest group of musicians playing, they showed us the roots of ska and beyond. They certainly knew how to get everyone up and about. After dancing up a storm (something Rhys, Olivia and I have become famous for), it was time for a beer and a sit down next to the Mojo. Gurrumul filled the main tent with the soothing sound of indigenous blues. During a quick walk around, I managed to catch the end of Robert Randolph and the Family Band with a rip roaring rendition of Purple Haze, definitely another highlight of the evening.
This year has been the best!. From the amazing lineup and fabulous performances to the most amiable, mixed generational crowd you could imagine. The only sad faces are the poor stiffs busted by sniffer dogs ~ but who needs dope when everyone seems to be on some natural high? Wow!, Byron must be getting to me, I sound like some superannuated hippie.
What day is it? Oh yeah, Monday. So here's the review of Easter Sunday:
I woke up this morning and had myself a beer. Not quite, instead I ate organic wood fired sourdough hot cross buns to lay a foundation for beer.
By 2pm we were back on the bus, being driven by a bloke who's dad knows my cousin Sue-Ellen in Lismore. It's that sort of holiday. I'm almost expecting Blanches to change their bus destination from Bluesfest to Further. First stop after exiting: Crossroads. Who wouldn't when the lineup reads Little Feat, Mavis Staples, Irma Thomas and the Blind Boys of Alabama with Aaron Neville.
You've got to put on your sailin shoes
Put on your sailin shoes
Everyone will start to cheer
When you put on your sailin shoes.
Damn!, Feat were good. Pity they didn't have the time to play Tripe Face Boogie. What's the idea of no encores?. This is a festival!.
I almost felt disappointed with Mavis Staples when she performed the same testifying set as the day before, but how can you argue with heavenly perfection?.
Next up Irma, after Dylan my main reason for attending Bluesfest. A great introduction by her sax player: Will you welcome to the stage the Queen of New Orleans, Irrrrrrrmmmmmmma Thomas!. Rapturous applause as she was assisted on stage. Moving stiffly throughout an hour she sure surprised a lot of people who thought the Stones first sung Heart of Stone aka Ruler of My Heart and Time Is On My Side. Referring to an earlier health problem she told us There was a time when I never sang that song as I didn't think time was on my side, but thankfully those days are behind me.
The biggest surprise however was reserved for Irma and the band when she sang a song from a Grammy winning album. How was she to know Simply the Best had been the NRL theme-song as sung by Tina Turner. It's lyrics are practically engraved on our hearts!. We engaged in some Noo Orlans hankie -waving chorusing during Iko Iko and just had a great time. As James post-texted me Irma was the goods.
Sunset is my favourite festival time ~ when the patchouli oil starts wafting and the inflated balloons bob above the crowd. It's also in-between acts on the main stages and a good time to check out the smaller venues. Lisa Miller was performing at Juke Joint interspersing great covers between original material. Superfly, You're gonna make your fortune by and by! At APRA crowds were bopping to the Afro-Creole of Seychelles band Grace Barbe Afro Kreol.
A great festival needs to present acts that appeal to a wide range of ages and this year's Bluesfest delivers in spades!. A huge crowd of early twenties were jammed into the big Mojo tent to see Washington, and would definitely move on later to The Cat Empire. At Jambalaya the Melbourne Ska Orchestra pumped out ska to an sweating, heaving moon-stomping mass of humanity.
The Saltwater Band, featuring Garrumul, sang and performed a set in an indigenous language that makes you ashamed Aussie children are not taught the same. The biggest bassist you have ever seen proved that plaid and camouflage is still an appealing combination.
Did I mention the weather has been perfect? Most of the time we have been hot and thirsty. Drinking all that XXXX requires sustenance, and subsequently Chris and I have developed a real taste for what's on offer at the Sauerkraut Sisters. In addition, the local pies (pronounced lo-cal) are winners. BTW today's best t-shirt read Drink your beer, there are kids in India who are sober.
Feigning tiredness, Kim, Paulette and I decided an early night was appropriate and left it to Chris, Rhys and James to fly the 28 Ruskin Street flag.
James reports: After enjoying an extended stay on the beach for the third day in a row, it was time to mosey towards the "bluesy" as I've touted it. Arriving around sunset, we started our evening with Irma Thomas. Ruler of my heart was definitely a highlight. We then shuffled our way across to the Jambalaya tent for the awesome guitar work of Jeff Lang and Co. Hunger set in by the time Jeffrey had completed his wowing of the crowd.
After a quick lamb curry and samosa it was time for the Melbourne Ska Orchestra. By far the largest group of musicians playing, they showed us the roots of ska and beyond. They certainly knew how to get everyone up and about. After dancing up a storm (something Rhys, Olivia and I have become famous for), it was time for a beer and a sit down next to the Mojo. Gurrumul filled the main tent with the soothing sound of indigenous blues. During a quick walk around, I managed to catch the end of Robert Randolph and the Family Band with a rip roaring rendition of Purple Haze, definitely another highlight of the evening.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Easter arrives early at Byron
Easter arrived early at Byron Bay this year when Mavis Staples hit the Crossroads stage on Saturday. Where are we going? asked Mavis, and the crowd screamed To the Lord!!. By the time Mavis and her crackerjack band departed, there was no doubt as to who was Queen of this year's Bluesfest. Adoring acolytes sporting dreadlocks, thongs and cut off denim hollered to be saved. There's no turning back, I've gone too far down this road to be turning now and we submitted.
The usual advice for music festivals is not to try and see too much, but this appears gratuitous when you are presented with a program as outstanding as the 2011 Bluesfest. If this years' lineup is not the best in Australian history, then I would like to find out which one was better! Try to pace yourself, they say. Huh? To illustrate the impossible, ticking off Fridays' card left the following memories:
It could have been The Who on stage when Los Lobos finished their second set with a perfect My Generation. As Rhythms Magazine stated in the official program This may just be the best band in the world. I won't disagree.
There may be a thousand recordings of this perennial favourite, but Toots and the Maytals owned Louie Louie. Despite imperceptible feedback problems that offended his star quality, we were not disappointed by the man that gave us the word reggae. I don't know what journalistic licence the Herald's reporter was employing in their less than flattering review, but Toots wasn't holding back on delivering classics like Pressure Drop early in his set.
It was impossible to see BB King in the too small Crossroads tent. This was probably the only programming glitch encountered where a sardine would have cried out enough!. The larger Mojo tent occupied by Toots and subsequently Grace Jones should have been BB's space. James and Rhys did squeeze in and said they enjoyed some moments of brilliance. However, BB is no spring chicken, and it shows.
Every festival you find a new favourite, and for Kim and I, our Friday standouts were ex-Maverick Raul Malo, who, with his enticing mix of Tex-Mex and Cuban rhythms charmed the pants off us closing with the classic Dance The Night Away. Another Friday favourite was aussie bluesman Ray Beadle and his tight band.
In the tiny APRA tent Ray, resplendent in 3-piece suit, gave us a classic set of old school Chicago rhythm and blues. In between great songs and nifty fretwork, Ray regaled us of his previous life as an interstate truckie prior to taking up full-time musicianship ~ good vocational choice!. Now there may be some pretty impressive guitars on display at Bluesfast, but the totally white Telecaster sported by his rhythm guitarist wins my award.
In the massive Mojo tent Grace Jones belied her age with a performance that shrieked Diva!; but this was Grace Jones! With a new head-dress for each song and legs that seemed to have a life of their own, Grace's performance was part musical tour de force, part runway fashion show and part theatrical drama. Sated, we went in search of a closing act. A little Grace goes a long way!.
Rodrigo Y Gabriela and their stunning flamenco completed our Friday, and as we exited in search of homeward-bound buses the ringing interplay between Rodrigo's dazzling lead work and Gabriela's unique rhythms sounded a retreat.
All in all it was a massive Good Friday that also included further fine performances from Osibisa, Eric Bibb, The Dingoes and a ripper from Xavier Rudd, backed by the Innocent Criminals.
After such a huge Friday, Saturday was the day to wind down and be somewhat selective in our entertainment choices. Little Feat were scheduled to precede Mavis at 14.30 at Crossroads so a lazy a.m. was on the cards. Hobbit-like, a number of breakfasts were consumed before Rhys, James and I headed for the beach and a refreshing dip. By-passing the Saturday beach-side markets, we dumped our towels and hit the surf. Glorious!. You can see why people opt for a Byron lifestyle.
Entering Bluesfest, we immediately encountered Julia and the Rockwiz Orkestra who had attracted a big audience of early-afternoon rock know-it-alls. The Orkestra, supported by guests Tim Rogers of You Am I and Broderick Smith, performed a Dingoes' classic to an enthusiastic crowd. Satisfied we had held up Canberra's reputation in the know-it-all status, we moved on in search of the Crossroads tent.
Little Feat ambled on and eased into a performance dominated by a predominantly older crowd. From our vantage point close to the stage, we noted a not-surprising number of middle-aged men sporting pony tails. Baby-boomers rule and when the familiar opening chords of Time loves a hero rang out, the audience shuffling had noticeably picked up. It's marvelous what a pacemaker can achieve. Willing and Dixie Chicken had us pumped and we were disappointed when the hour-long performance ended. An hour is not near long enough for all Feat's hits and we will have to return tomorrow to get our fill.
Anticipating Mavis, and drinks in hand, we wandered along the midway checking out the various stalls and crowd. At the APRA stage Louis King and the Liars Klub had encouraged some shuffling that would normally have raised dust. The heavy conditions put paid to that and gumboots were still the preferred shodding. Heading back we encountered the best t-shirt yet: former meat tray winner!.
Following Mavis' topnotch show, we decided we required sustenance and returned home for a seafood feast. King prawns followed by barbequed snapper, Chris' dill sauce, goat-cheese enhanced green salad and spuds really hit the spot. As Kim and Paulette had decided to stay in, Chris and I had the dubious pleasure of catching the same festival shuttle as the most obnoxious passengers possible. It takes all types!
All afternoon we had been picking up the vibe that Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi were not to be missed and so it proved. Two ace guitar slingers backed by a monstrous two-drum eight-piece band. Fabulous, with a great version of Sly's Everyday People. We're going back tomorrow fer sure!.
Next up: The BAMBOOS!!. Wow, they rock!!! and everyone dances!!!. 'nuff said.
Not wanting to miss out on some of the headliners I sampled John Legend and Michael Franti, but no competition - The BAMBOOS!!!! for me.
Heading for the exit, we noticed a lot of people were having a really good time at Jambalaya where the Melbourne Ska Orchestra were presenting My Boy Lollipop and a unique version of the Theme From Russia With Love!.
The usual advice for music festivals is not to try and see too much, but this appears gratuitous when you are presented with a program as outstanding as the 2011 Bluesfest. If this years' lineup is not the best in Australian history, then I would like to find out which one was better! Try to pace yourself, they say. Huh? To illustrate the impossible, ticking off Fridays' card left the following memories:
It could have been The Who on stage when Los Lobos finished their second set with a perfect My Generation. As Rhythms Magazine stated in the official program This may just be the best band in the world. I won't disagree.
There may be a thousand recordings of this perennial favourite, but Toots and the Maytals owned Louie Louie. Despite imperceptible feedback problems that offended his star quality, we were not disappointed by the man that gave us the word reggae. I don't know what journalistic licence the Herald's reporter was employing in their less than flattering review, but Toots wasn't holding back on delivering classics like Pressure Drop early in his set.
It was impossible to see BB King in the too small Crossroads tent. This was probably the only programming glitch encountered where a sardine would have cried out enough!. The larger Mojo tent occupied by Toots and subsequently Grace Jones should have been BB's space. James and Rhys did squeeze in and said they enjoyed some moments of brilliance. However, BB is no spring chicken, and it shows.
Every festival you find a new favourite, and for Kim and I, our Friday standouts were ex-Maverick Raul Malo, who, with his enticing mix of Tex-Mex and Cuban rhythms charmed the pants off us closing with the classic Dance The Night Away. Another Friday favourite was aussie bluesman Ray Beadle and his tight band.
In the tiny APRA tent Ray, resplendent in 3-piece suit, gave us a classic set of old school Chicago rhythm and blues. In between great songs and nifty fretwork, Ray regaled us of his previous life as an interstate truckie prior to taking up full-time musicianship ~ good vocational choice!. Now there may be some pretty impressive guitars on display at Bluesfast, but the totally white Telecaster sported by his rhythm guitarist wins my award.
In the massive Mojo tent Grace Jones belied her age with a performance that shrieked Diva!; but this was Grace Jones! With a new head-dress for each song and legs that seemed to have a life of their own, Grace's performance was part musical tour de force, part runway fashion show and part theatrical drama. Sated, we went in search of a closing act. A little Grace goes a long way!.
Rodrigo Y Gabriela and their stunning flamenco completed our Friday, and as we exited in search of homeward-bound buses the ringing interplay between Rodrigo's dazzling lead work and Gabriela's unique rhythms sounded a retreat.
All in all it was a massive Good Friday that also included further fine performances from Osibisa, Eric Bibb, The Dingoes and a ripper from Xavier Rudd, backed by the Innocent Criminals.
After such a huge Friday, Saturday was the day to wind down and be somewhat selective in our entertainment choices. Little Feat were scheduled to precede Mavis at 14.30 at Crossroads so a lazy a.m. was on the cards. Hobbit-like, a number of breakfasts were consumed before Rhys, James and I headed for the beach and a refreshing dip. By-passing the Saturday beach-side markets, we dumped our towels and hit the surf. Glorious!. You can see why people opt for a Byron lifestyle.
Entering Bluesfest, we immediately encountered Julia and the Rockwiz Orkestra who had attracted a big audience of early-afternoon rock know-it-alls. The Orkestra, supported by guests Tim Rogers of You Am I and Broderick Smith, performed a Dingoes' classic to an enthusiastic crowd. Satisfied we had held up Canberra's reputation in the know-it-all status, we moved on in search of the Crossroads tent.
Little Feat ambled on and eased into a performance dominated by a predominantly older crowd. From our vantage point close to the stage, we noted a not-surprising number of middle-aged men sporting pony tails. Baby-boomers rule and when the familiar opening chords of Time loves a hero rang out, the audience shuffling had noticeably picked up. It's marvelous what a pacemaker can achieve. Willing and Dixie Chicken had us pumped and we were disappointed when the hour-long performance ended. An hour is not near long enough for all Feat's hits and we will have to return tomorrow to get our fill.
Anticipating Mavis, and drinks in hand, we wandered along the midway checking out the various stalls and crowd. At the APRA stage Louis King and the Liars Klub had encouraged some shuffling that would normally have raised dust. The heavy conditions put paid to that and gumboots were still the preferred shodding. Heading back we encountered the best t-shirt yet: former meat tray winner!.
Following Mavis' topnotch show, we decided we required sustenance and returned home for a seafood feast. King prawns followed by barbequed snapper, Chris' dill sauce, goat-cheese enhanced green salad and spuds really hit the spot. As Kim and Paulette had decided to stay in, Chris and I had the dubious pleasure of catching the same festival shuttle as the most obnoxious passengers possible. It takes all types!
All afternoon we had been picking up the vibe that Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi were not to be missed and so it proved. Two ace guitar slingers backed by a monstrous two-drum eight-piece band. Fabulous, with a great version of Sly's Everyday People. We're going back tomorrow fer sure!.
Next up: The BAMBOOS!!. Wow, they rock!!! and everyone dances!!!. 'nuff said.
Not wanting to miss out on some of the headliners I sampled John Legend and Michael Franti, but no competition - The BAMBOOS!!!! for me.
Heading for the exit, we noticed a lot of people were having a really good time at Jambalaya where the Melbourne Ska Orchestra were presenting My Boy Lollipop and a unique version of the Theme From Russia With Love!.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
On the road again
Well, Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel.
Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel.
We’re going to the Bluesfest, gonna have a reeeeeeaaaaaaaal good time!
Thanks Jim!.
An Aussie road trip presents the opportunity for participants to savor a vast range of antipodean delights. From too close encounters with cash-up'd bogans to a thorough enjoyment of upgrades to the Pacific Highway ~ all 1500 kilometres of it!. That old perennial favourite, spotting Big Aussie Things, also remains ~ the big bee hive, the big banana and the big oyster just near Taree, home of the Clam’s rugby club. Thankfully tales of the demise of the big prawn at Ballina proved unfounded.
Spending Easter on an Aussie highway ~ how patriotic is that! Hordes of similar minded patriots had the same idea: from the chauffeur of God’s hire car, it’s gleaming black flanks festooned with Christian signs, to swarms of blueprinted Morris Minors heading south to a Nirvana of trials and technical banter. Standards, Travellers, utes and an upstart Morris Elite persistently puttered by. As the bumper sticker proclaims Keep on Morrying.
To break our journey, various accommodation options were considered. We could have stayed at the Matador Motel at Coffs Harbour, the home of Australian bullfighting, but instead opted for the Aquajet Motel, named after a discontinued Dunlop tyre. Dinner was taken at the Hoey Moey Hotel at Park Beach where whole families attired in hoodies and boardshorts availed themselves of the $7 steak special. If only we could have been there two days earlier ~ BarraMonday!
Once past Grafton, and its' main-street Jacaranda Queen fundraisers, you begin to believe Byron Bay and the far north coast are finally within reach. An outbreak of real estate signs lined the banks of the adjacent Clarence River, however, notwithstanding their verdant surroundings, homes with riverside frontages were proving difficult to dispose of. Last summer's record floods probably had something to do with it. To get us in the mood for Bluesfest, we sampled Cream, the Doors and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here in its' entirety! None of whom are appearing at Bluesfest, but you get the idea.
Despite it being Easter Thursday, we had to visit gridlocked Ballina to purchase seafood. A quick in and out and we exited the Pacific Highway in the direction of Byron Bay. What a brilliant diversion!. Soon we were motoring along obscure C and D class roads enjoying spectacular views to Lennox Head and the Pacific. A photo opportunity and a chance encounter with a chatty horsewoman momentarily broke our trip before we arrived at Ruskin Street, our accommodation for the next week. Spookily, access to our off-street parking is via Dylan Lane!.
Following a repast of too many oysters and hors d'oeuvres, we exited in search of Blanche's Busline and it's $4 fare that guaranteed easy access to Tyagarah Tea Tree, home of the blues. No energetic renditions of Hail to the busdriver as yet, however it is early. Gumboots sparkling, we initially feasted on an entree of Ernest Ranglin's roots and a soulful Ruthie Foster before heading off for a big night. Not too big, as it is the first day and we've gotta lotta music to enjoy.
The Mojo, Jambalaya and a couple of smaller stages were offering some tasty treats, but we headed for the Crossroads where followers of Robert Johnson could get their fill. First up were Los Lobos who, despite a too obvious diet of tacos and fajitas, rocked out East LA style finishing their set with La Bamba a'la the Rascals Good Lovin'. Next up were a slick ZZ Top with footwork as snappy as their threads and custom axes. Beards to the forefront, they pleased a large crowd intent on having a good time. The long road trip, however, began to have its' effect and we headed for the exit sampling a little Toots on the way. The Maytals are on again tomorrow so no Pressure (Drop).
According to James and Rhys, Ben Harper performing an energetic and genuinely entertaining show. Two cousins dancing to Sexual Healing was a little strange, but hey! this is Bluesfest. Added entertainment was provided by the chair-in-the-middle-of-the-crowd people who slowly sank into the soggy ground. Bloody Festival Fascisti!
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