Easter Sunday (Part 1) ~ Mardi Gras under the big top

Sunday opened brightly if a touch windy. Dumping last night's empties into the bin I noticed brewers have become soothsayers. Take your hat off to a story worth sharing with a long, slightly nutty finish states James Squire's Nine Tales Amber Ale. Passing on this morning's choppy surf, I took the opportunity to catch up on some blog housekeeping and checked my notes. Write that down! was Jon's persistent cry whenever anything of note (or not) occurred. The result was a selection of dog-eared pieces of paper and napkin. It has just passed champagne o'clock and an early departure is planned.

Today's program card has been initially marked with New Orleans legend Allen Toussaint, being one of the performers I have most anticipated. The Bluesfest iPod app nails it for me with Elton John's quote Meeting Allen Toussaint is like meeting the Dalai Lama; he influenced the way I play the piano, he's a historical part of rock and roll. I have to agree, with Allen penning some of rock's greatest songs ~ Fortune Teller/Working in a coal mine/Ride Your Pony/Ruler of My Heart/Ooh Poo Pah Doo/Southern Nights etc. I'm heading up front I inform the others nursing drinks near the centrally located mixing desk at Crossroads.

Right in front a few metres from the stage, I step back to allow a smaller man to stake a spot. Thanks mate I appreciate it says Normie Rowe, I'm a big fan of his. Allen Toussaint, nattily attired in a smart blue suit, takes his place at the grand piano and kicks off the Mardi Gras with There's a Party Going On. You got it Allen! Next up straight into one of my favorites the bubbling A Certain Girl: Well there's a certain girl I've been sweet on since I met her. What's her name? We cry. I can't tell you! responds Allen. This segues into Mother-In-Law, Fortune Teller and Working In A Coal Mine before returning to A Certain Girl. Magic! With the exception of the smiling cool guitarist/multi-instrumentalist the band are grinning like crazy ~ How good are this crowd?

The funk continues as Allen reaches under the piano and brings out a party bag full of Noo Orlans artefacts. Normie turns and asks if I catch any of the treasures being thrown into the crowd can he have one? Sho 'nuff! Lipstick Traces On a Cigarette, Everything I Do Gonna Be Funky and Get Out of My Life, Woman complete the show. We are sweating up a storm as we make our way through the tent back to Kim, Paulette and Chris. Normie, this is my wife Kim. Kim - Normie Rowe. You should have seen the look on her face. It’s a bit of a cliché, but we enjoyed our brief brush with fame, telling Normie we had recently been playing some of his songs. He was pleased to hear I rated Tell Him I’m Not Home as a great pop song. That was a Bacharach and David composition he said. He was thrilled to hear Mavis Staples had introduced her performance of Shakin All Over as one of Normie’s songs. Following the obligatory photo, Normie asks where we are off to next. To catch Tony Joe White. Great idea, let’s go.

Leaving Normie we caught up with Chris and Paulette at APRA who had landed a primo position near the mixing desk. Not close enough for me I declared and moved up closer. A mixed-age group of groovers, including an old dude sporting a headband and a shark tooth pendant, were raising dust as Tony Joe and his drummer laid down some funky sounds. Steamy Windows, Polk Salad Annie and a newie titled The Organic Shuffle sounded swampy. The Organic Shuffle was inspired by an encounter I had with a lovely lady at a past Bluesfest. The audience reaction even raised a smile from the old swamp fox. Thank y’all!

Kim and Paulette started walking towards Jambalaya where Sweet Honey in The Rock were due to commence. I should have joined them, for a festival disappointment loomed. Jon Anderson presented a solo performance in the expanse of Crossroads that was more suited to an ensemble venue. The voice of Yes, one of the most recognisable in progressive rock, was still there, however his low-key solo performance did not cut the mustard in the vast Crossroads tent. His earlier stint in the Lotus Palace would have been better given its' intimate setting. Never having been a fan of Yes, I have been disappointed two years in a row by performances by this band's members in both group and individual formats. Catching up with Jon, a confirmed Yes fan, I reluctantly followed him to Mojo where Karise Eden, winner of TV's The Voice Australia, was singing. Despite Seal's endorsement of Karise as Australia's new Queen of Soul, I was not convinced and followed Jon based solely on his enthusiastic review of her album. I am prepared to admit she was good and could certainly belt out the blues. In fact Karise was surprisingly good. Maybe I'll borrow Jon's album for a listen.

There are some days at Bluesfest where you are more enthusiastic than others based on the day's offerings. For me, Easter Sunday was one of those days. Still enthusing after our taste of the Mardi Gras, Kim and I moved up front to the left of the stage for Supertramp's Roger Hodgson. Despite Punk's condemnation of Prog Rock as being played by dinosaurs, we had continued to play Crime of the Century, Crisis What Crisis, and Even in the Quietest Moments if only after dark and behind closed curtains. A guilty pleasure you could say.

The Crossroads stage had been prepped for something special with the keyboards, percussion and other instruments sharing space with a forest of palms. The crowd was an interesting mix including a fair representation of the younger generations. A smiling shaven Roger took his place behind the prominent keyboards and kicked off with The Logical Song. Good choice ~ straight away he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. As Supertramp's spiritual leader and one of the two songwriters, Roger was responsible for many of their timeless classics. Alternating between guitar and keyboards, Roger and his excellent band played recording standard renditions of many of our our favourites including Dreamer, School, Give a Little Bit and Breakfast in America etc.

Talk about a right singalong, the crowd chorused with every pause and inflection delivered perfectly. Continuing a 2013 Bluesfest feature, Roger's band included an amazing multi-instrumentalist who would have been great on his own. As many of the Supertramp classics had been composed by Rick Davies I was waiting for someone to request Bloody Well Right. In the face of the enmity existing between the two composers I thought Bloody Fat Chance!.

This was a Bluesfest highlight!

Easter Saturday ~ Carlisle 54, Where are you?

It's difficult to get a good photograph of the Dropkick Murphys when you are being punched in the face mourned Jon ~ The Dropkick's agressive ska set had attracted an audience not normally encountered at Bluesfest. The slamming skinhead element seems to have discovered Byron with the addition of Iggy & The Stooges to the festival lineup. Those guys should have been smoking Mullumbimby Madness rather than ingesting MDMA. As I had caught Iggy and the original Stooges at the 2006 Big Day Out I felt that anything other than a cursory inspection from afar would have been excessive given tonight's lineup. Jon's virgin status, however, required attendance at as many star turns as he could manage plus fulfilling his role of house photographer.

Saturday dawned sparkling and bright after last night's cleansing monsoon. Jon and I emerged via the pathway strewn with tropical debris, dropped the towels and hit the water. Seagulls were wheeling above some hundred metres off the shore-break as we plunged into the surf. A promising swell builds and we stroke madly to get on. To Jon's left a sleek black shape shares the clean break ~ a dolphin. They were everywhere feeding on a school of tiny fish and catching the odd wave. Our zen moment had arrived!. A woman to my left squealed with delight as her head emerges They're talking to me, and they were. Sticking your head under you could hear their whistles and tweets. Amazing!!.

We had better make a move, I've got to prepare the seafood chowder for tomorrow's lunch said Jon. Back home the denizens of 54 Carlyle Street were shuffling about nursing cuppas and sore heads. Way too much fun!. Many of the afternoon acts were appearing again tomorrow and the recuperative powers of a cold collation seemed a much better option than an early bus ride. The rear verandah was awash with dripping ponchos and a clump of crusty footwear attesting to Fridays’ rainfest. My damp Che Guevara t-shirt hung limply over a chair ~ damn hippy socialists!.

Jon was waxing lyrically about our swim as he showered outside under the eighth industrial wonder of the world. Encroaching cyclads and frangipani crowded the bath tiles. Inside Chris was washing up as Kim and Paulette chopped and sliced. Is this your iPod or mine?, I asked Chris. It must be yours, it’s contains far too much Paul Simon for it to be mine. It would appear an inspirational playlist is required.

The bus trip to the festival site at Tyagarah Tea Tree Farm was a lively affair with friendly banter being exchange with four young guys standing in the aisle. I know it's a day early someone stated, but are you seeing Robert Plant or Iggy Pop tomorrow? Pop, of course!. One of the guys told us about the time he had been up on stage with Iggy. I touched him and it felt like my old man’s wallet!. Mark Seymour was finishing his set with a Hunners classic as we exited the bus and passed through the entry tent.

Leaving Chris to his own devices, I’m off to see The Round Mountain Girls at Cavanbah, and Jon to God knows where, Kim, Paulette and I snagged an excellent spot in Mojo where Wilco were due. Their sole, rarely-played album in my collection gave me little idea of how good they were live. Wow!. I may be premature, and it may have been a result of the long lunch, but I bestow Wilco with performers of the fest. A big call I know, but that’s my belief. Jeff Tweedy ~ singer, songwriter, guitarist and producer sang a selection of album cuts that highlighted their output of bold rock, punchy pop and sombre ballads. Guitarist and keyboard player Patrick Sansone was amazing and scene-stealing, making me glad I’m not the band's third guitarist. In previous years, my choice for Bluesfest surprise has gone to unknown acts like Rosie Ledet's cajun crew and Eilen Jewell's understated rock. This year it's Wilco!. I think more drinks are in order.

Next up, Status Quo. Outside Mojo Kim and I were confronted by two fortyish Pom bovver boys doing some serious heads down, no nonsense boogie. Rick and Francis rocked off in search of that elusive 4th chord supported by a thumping rhythm section. There's more Marshall stacks up there than a sheriff's conference someone quips. Despite playing a lot of favourites, I was slightly disappointed as I felt they promoted their current album Quid Pro Quo a little too heavily for my liking. Still you can’t deny they were rockin’.

As previously mentioned this year's program is stellar with conflicting scheduled attractions. We passed on further Quo and set off for Crossroads to catch the sole performance of Tex Perkins and the legendary Beasts of Bourbon. Having seen Tex and his regular compadres Charlie Owen and Spencer P Jones in a variety of lineups at Narooma we knew what to expect. Be they Dark Horses, Ladyboys or Beasts, you get a fusion of punk and pub rock with confronting lyrics sinuously delivered by the ace frontman. Nice, they ain't playin'!. Wish I had what Tex has, He makes grown women weak at the knees. Nearby at Jambalaya, a big crowd were enjoying Ruthie Foster's spell-binding funky blues. You want choice, Bluesfest 2013 has it in spades!.

Lunch was but a faint memory and a trip to the food hall and it's various offerings was in order. As usual, the Sauerkraut Sister's kransky and bratwurst caught my eye and were too tempting to pass by. It's a tradition! The food hall is a Bluesfest entity in itself. Long wooden picnic tables are occupied and vacated at an uneven rate, and hanging on for the last song or encore can leave punters momentarily hungry and upright. Where are you?, We're at a table just back from Oodles of Noodles. OK, See you soon. Babe packs in denim shorts compete for space with families of varying complexity.

Ooh!, That sounds good! Nine piece Saskwatch were laying down an infectious stew of R'n'B and soul at APRA and had a crowded tent dancing unashamedly. I thought the program already offered a great dance card with The Bamboos and the Melbourne Ska Orchestra to come, but this was great. As described in the Bluesfest app This is good sunny soul channeling James Brown and Aretha Franklin, as well as New York's bangin' modern soul scene.. Another funky 'fest offering to enjoy. Meanwhile another vibe was brewing. Sniff, sniff, what's that?. It wasn't patchoulie oil and it wasn't the other fragrant offering ~ It was aggression. The Dropkick Murphys were in town!.

Mojo 10.00pm Robert Plant. Say no more. The tent was packed to overflowing thanks to that persistent plague The Chair People! Why would you position a chair in the middle of a crowd and stay sitting? Madness, to say nothing of the valuable space taken up by the adjacent loonie and his partner. You can't see anything except the butt of the person standing directly in front of you. As for the performance, Robert Plant and his band The Sensational Space Shifters played a representative selection of Led Zep favourites as well as the blues classics that inspired him. Had I not seen Led Zeppelin live some forty years before I would have felt I had missed out on something special. As it was I was glad I had seen this repeat performance, even if under trying circumstances.

Seeking out Iggy we arrived just as he was inviting anyone to join him and these Stooges on stage. The security officers must have thought all their worst nightmares had come to fruition.

The crowd outside the Cheeky Monkey were eager for more entertainment as we exited the bus. It was late, we had had a big day and the light was poor. 54 Carlisle Street, Where are you?

Good Friday ~ Part 2

Crowds were streaming from both directions towards Mojo in anticipation of tonight's triple header: Reggae superstar Jimmy Cliff, The Gangster of Love himself Steve Miller, and world music originator Carlos Santana. As if that wasn't enough the Tedeschi Trucks Band would close the night's proceedings.

Great!, Amazing!, Impressive! Just some of the responses of my compadres`when assessing Jimmy's energetic show. His yellow garbed ensemble laid down a rocksteady storm with many of the crowd reacting in amazement when his wide repetoire revealed the hits. Did he sing that too??? You can get it ..., The harder they come, Wonderful World, I can see clearly now, they were all there and faithfully performed. We called this music ska when we were young and used to dance. Used to dance???. What do you call that then Jimmy?, his nonstop bop displaying many classic moves. Great!, Amazing!, Impressive.

Next up, The Steve Miller Band.

Under the Big Top Steve didn't disappoint. Terrific crowd pleasing stuff that ticked all the boxes, playing all the songs the punters wanted to hear. Abracadabra, Fly Like an Eagle, Jet Airliner and the all-time closer The Joker hit the spot. The band, well what can you say, many had been with Steve for years and it showed. They were tight, and to quote Jon displayed great synergy. Steve's voice was fabulous and the joker, smoker, midnight toker lived up to our expectations. To the man who speaks with the pompitus of love, we can only offer one piece of advice: Leave the hat wearing to Jason Mraz!

Santana. What a performance!. Great songs and instrumentals that were tight as, with multi-focal rhythms a feature. This concert had it all. With a kick of his leg, a dip of his hat, Carlos had all members of the multi-cultural band reacting instantly. No need for a lot of chat, just music. According to Jon the key ingredients to a successful act are: A group of individual artists who are geniuses in their own right. An ability of musicians to seamlessly play together plus an artistic director who knows every nuance of his band members'abilities. Carlos' leadership ensured he got the very best from them at all times. Time and time again, the first note caused the audience to break into raptuous recognition and release. It is almost hard to believe he played Woodstock so long ago. It was just a pity Soul Sacrifice wasn't included.

Every member of the band was clearly enjoying themselves including that amazing percussionist. As passionately stated by Jon This performance was "airtight"and for mine possibly the best act of the festival.

Overall the big three acknowledged what the punters were expecting - All their favourites with no filler, performed with passion.

Unfortunately, the rain and a packed-to-capacity Mojo meant some of us were going to miss Santana's amazing performance. The alternate offerings, however, were great: Robert Cray smoothly brilliant at Jambalaya and Trombone Shorty powerful at Crossroads. At Jambalaya Kim and I got up close and personal with Wanda Jackson and her rockin' combo.

Wanda told stories of her 58 year-long career spiced with representative songs. I want to take you on a musical voyage, and here's my first No.1 hit. No, it wasn't in Australia or even the US ~ I can thank Japan for my hit of 1958 ~ Fujiyama Mama! She told us about the time Elvis (much whooping and applause) asked her if she would like to go on a date. Being a good Southern girl, I had to refuse him, (pause) No of course I didn't!!. Wanda was great!!!

After such a stellar night, it was disappointing to be confronted with such poor departure and transport facilities. It raises the question Should organisers expand the site or even limit the number of tickets. More than once did we hear five-day ticket holders say they were not returning despite paying premium prices for this year. Given the amount of groundwater, Chris' text stating they were bailing was apt.

Good Friday

Bluesfest week at Byron aka Easter, is not just music, music, music. There are other strenuous activities to be considered like the five minute stroll south for morning coffee at Green Garage, and the five minute walk north to Main Beach for a morning surf. The latter is not for all, some preferring to rest their weary bodies after a hard night of going Whoa!, and Yeah!.

A 60's boarding school upbringing has conditioned me to be up at sparrowfart, cleaning away the bottles and debris of the post-midnight discussion as to the merits of yesterday's performances - How can you say Wilco was the best act you seen so far?, That's a mighty big call! Clink! sound the box of empties headed for the bin just down from the mud-encrusted boots and dripping ponchos lining the verandah.

Who's up for a swim then! cries Jon, our eager Bluesfest newbie ~ Let's just see if he's so gung-ho by Monday. Bathe between the flags they state, What flags?. Where's Abbott and his speedos when you need reviving?. Splashing manfully, Jon and I dive under the oncoming waves and come up refreshed. That's better! To our left, tourists are being dumped off dual surf canoes despite our best efforts to assist: Paddle, paddle, paddle! Lots of fit blonde Scandanavians look on bemused.

Back at No. 54, our kind companions are preparing our breakfast of champions. Yeah, sure they are. Get your own!, Kim cries as I attempt to purloin a piece of home-ground, organic hot cross bun.

Right, What's up first?, asks Chris as champagne o'clock ticks over. Ragged multi-coloured programs are dragged out and suggestions are made. The Bluesfest iPod app is consulted as we attempt to ascertain the pedigree of some of the lesser lights. It says here Jake Shimabukuro and his ukulele shredding are not to be missed. What time is he on?, 2.30, Nah, we won't be finished lunch by then. Little chance our entree of fresh kingies with Pacific and Sydney Rock oysters followed by Paulette's renown mussels in white wine are going to be rushed.

Is anyone taking a chair?, No, maybe tomorrow. None of us want to be one of those oxygen-thieving chair people that we constantly complain about. Boarding the bus, we hope Ben Harper will still be soloing at the Crossroads by arrival time. Bluesfest Friday has a massive program with Jimmy Cliff, Steve Miller Band and Santana all performing at Mojo. I hope mine is working!

At Jambalaya Julia Z is looking svelte in a slinky red number reviving memories of Chris Isaak and Wanda Jackson's costuming. Who sang about the doggie in the window?, Julia asks as the crowd of Gen X&Y's intone WTF?. Leave it to the boomers to provide the answer. The talented teams selected after extensive scoping display their pop culture chops accompanied by the guest-enhanced Rock Kwiz Orchestra.

At the APRA tent Shawn Colvin is looking much more at ease with her plaintive songs garnering good reception. As heavy clouds form overhead, Kim and I gain up-front advantage at the Cavanbah stage where ABC FM is broadcasting nationwide. Put your hands together for our first guest Jake and his ukulele. Man that guy can shred! The hostess was brilliant drawing out stories from Jake who told us of his astonishment at being contacted by Alan Parsons who wanted to produce Hawaaian Jake's next project.

Put your hands together for a warm welcome for our next guest the legendary Taj Mahal! Holy hell, how good is this!. A great song followed by anecdotal accounts of his early band with Ry Cooder had us thirsting for more. However, time was limited and Taj exited to much acclaim. Bluesfest fans, here we are at Easter resurrecting our next guest, wait for it............ Rodriguez! Assisted on stage due to his impaired vision, I momentarily worried for his welfare, but my worry was unfoundered as he told us of his career and the unfortunate management decisions that resulted in his royalties ending up in someone else pocket. He indicated a new album was in the offering which his many fans will eagerly await. Rhythms Magazine staff subsequently did a brisk trade in new subscription pacakages that included a copy of the Oscar winning documentary dvd Looking for Sugarman.

Wandering up towards Mojo, we bumped into my cousin Helen and her husband Paul who were off to see Jimmy Cliff. What a good idea!

Holy Thursday ~ Last Supper at Bluesfest

Ah! air travel,the only way to fly!. Past trips to Byron Bay's Bluesfest have involved 2 to 3 days of bumper to bumper crawls up the Pacific Highway punctuated by nocturnal visits to northern towns. This year it was going to be different. An hour after departing Sydney we were touching down at Ballina Airport. The swarm of restored Morris Minors encountered outside Goulburn would still be motoring to that Easter encounter some spot north - Keep on Morrying.

Our holiday home on Carlisle Street is a verandah enclosed gem located in lush green gardens. Ruskin, Dylan, Carlisle - past and present holiday abodes are poetically located in Byron Bay's back streets, close to the town hub and near Blanch's Bluesfest Bus Service. Hail to the Bus Driver, bus driver man....

Enough scene setting, You cry! Let's have some music! Just inside the gates Jambalaya tent was packed to overflowing with fans enjoying a great set from a diminutive Joan Armatrading. Joan was enticing much hand waving with favourites like All the Way from America as we paused for a glimpse. Normally Bluesfest Thursday night is a cruisy journey up and down the midway partaking of old favourites and new discoveries. Not this year! The 5 day program is packed with more choices than you can point the proverbial stick at. It was only 7 o'clock and we had to choose from these offerings: Joan's distinctive synthesis of folk, reggae, soul and rock, smooth and dapper Robert Cray, one of the greatest Blues guitarists of any generation, Japanese ukelele virtuouso Jake Shimabukuro, Grammy wiining Shawn Colvin's passionate take on singer/songwriters or the Counting Crows single festival performance on the Mojo stage. The Crows it is!

Front man Adam Duritz and his distinctive nest of hair stood centre stage of the 7 piece band and cajoled the massive crowd with wrought interpretations of favourites like Mr Jones. Our resident Crow's fan, Jon, takes up the story: While not all my favourites from mega popular, multi platium album August and everything after were played. The song selection by the band left everyone grooving. Classics like Omaha didn't disappoint. For a moment Ï thought I may have been cast back to a 1970's Elton John concert when a the version of the sensational Rain King@ (4:16) turned into a 17 minute epic. While Adam may have put on a few kilo's he still sounded great.

Despite enticing colourful programs and interactive iPod apps, a Bluesfest rule of thumb is not too much planning and let your instincts decide. A rumbling stomach suggested my entrails make the next decision. Kim opted for salt and pepper calamari and I lucked onto an enormous chilly noodles with greens. Number 75 to the snackbar, that's me! A well spent $13. As 8.30 approached, our band of three headed off to the far-flung APRA stage to see my selection Tav Falco and Panther Burns. Other than originating in Memphis and being name-checked in Jim Jarmuch's Mystery Train, I was unsure of their pedigree and was intrigued. Nattily attired, and boasting a fine selection of guitars, the Panther Burns were rockin'! According to the Bluesfest app Tav was post modern when post modern wasn't cool. Their psycobilly performance seamlessly fused the aesthetics of Dean Martin and Jerry Lee Lewis, with harem-clad Giovanna (ex-all girl band The Hellcats) recalling Poison Ivy of The Cramps.

Normally Thursday night is the night for dipping in and out of tents getting a feel for the fest'. Holy Thursday was no exception with a linup guaranteed to please. Leaving Tav we headed off to catch Jason Mraz at Mojo, the Tedeschi Trucks Band at Crossroads and back to Jambalaya for Rodriguez. What a predicament! All were excellent with a brass-heavy Tedeschi-Trucks possibly the pick of the night.

As the closing act at Crossroads was Chris Isaak we stayed put by the mid-placed mixing desk. As Mr Isaak was not due for another fifteen minutes, I strolled towards Mojo where Ben Harper and Charlie Musselwhite were laying down some seriously good harmonica-tinged blues. Fred Wesley and The New JB's funky offerings were attracting a large Gen X&Y crowd at Jambalaya.

Ouch!, my eyes are bleeding. Chris Isaak's bright red embroidered suit was straight out of a Nudie Catalogue. Sporting a white Gibson ES355, he was the epitome of a stylish frontman, and what a voice! Wicked Game, Somebody's Crying, Dancing et al ~ You forget what a hitmaker he has been. His obsession with the Sun Studio recordings was to the fore with a great version of Ring of Fire. A quick change of costume and back into performance mode. Where do you go to buy a mirror-coated suit?. A fine line of patter highlighting his band and their perceived quirks kept us laughing. I've been excited all day long about performing in a tent, he drawled, änd my excitement was at an all-time high when I saw the earlier performance of my next guest ~ Wanda Jackson!!

Nuff said!!!