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.