Special Saturday

"Who's coming with me."  "Nah, We're going later."  "OK, I'll see you in there."  Clutching my roadie, I headed off to the bus so I could catch The Decemberists at Mojo.

Storm clouds had been building along with the humidity and I could feel perspiration dripping down my back.  Oregon's favourite indie folk rock band were back headed by leader Colin Meloy.  While The Decemberists figurehead mightn't exactly fit the rockstar mould, the band's popularity is hard to ignore.  So it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when the four nut cases in front of me went nuts!  Their album "The Hazards of Love" a tale of pregnancy, murder and shape shifting has occasionally accompanied a late night port by the fire, however, I wouldn't have thought it would go down so well in festive Byron.

Every Bluesfest an artist emerges that just blows you away, and at the 2016 Bluesfest that is St Paul and The Broken Bones.  Today's description, care of a tie-dyed baby boomer, was an accountant with a shoe fetish.  Around about the second song of the set that said sequinned shoe soared over the drummers' head and was soon followed by his suit jacket.  Capturing the spirit of Otis Redding they represent the new generation of blue-eyed soul.  Singer Paul Janeway channels Otis's voice and James Brown's stage presence but remains completely individual.  More please!!

Surprisingly, Saturday night wasn't the most attractive of Bluesfest's five nights, with a number of repeat performances at Mojo by D'Angelo and the hip hop crowd.  At Crossroads, The Mick Fleetwood Blues Band were playing the same earlier set we had enjoyed on Friday replete with Mick's entertaining history lesson on the British Blues bands I had grown up with.  Things were going on swimmingly when crash, bang, wallop!, down came the rain.  As photographed earlier by my cousin SueEllen who resides near Lismore, the inky black clouds dumped 50ml on Tyagarah in a very short time.  Those thousands of gumboots will finally get an outing.

The previously dry and dusty grass in the 5 Seeds bar was engulfed by a tsunami causing the crowd to clump together on the bar's duckboards.  When the rain stopped, we gingerly made our way out through the sodden Bluesfest crowd in search of surer footing.  "Hey, let's go down to the Juke Joint."  "I want to check out the Residents."  "Who?" quizzed Kim and James.  "You know, that legendary avant-garde performance group who have kept their identity secret for over 40 years by hiding their true identities behind masks including giant eyeball heads, and are currently answering to Randy, Chuck and Bob."  "Oh, that Residents" they responded.  We lasted one minute.

Steve Earle and the Dukes were on again at Jambalaya, as we farewelled Alicia on her quest for the hip hop/modern jazz/urban R'n'B Nivana that was Mojo.

Good Friday Grooves

It was like calcium carbonate and ambrosia comparing last night's offering of "Contemporary#" artists to tonight's value-packed program. Sure, there were artists and bands who could be lumped in with the Kendricks and  D'Angelos of last night, but Good Friday's program had much wider appeal.
# Bluesfest's description.

James and I arrived just as Graham Nash made his entrance at Crossroads with former Springsteen sideman Shane Fontayne.  Steamy conditions more suited to swamp fox Tony Joe White warmed the audience as Graham opened with "a song from last century" ~ Bus Stop!  "I didn't know he was in The Hollies" exclaimed James, furthering his education.  It would be one of those days that made you love Bluesfest all the more.

Three songs from his new album "This Path Tonight" nestle in between Nash's earlier compositions including "Marrakesh Express", "Cathedral" and "Immigration Man".  The background to the latter was amusing: CSNY were passing through UK Customs and an officious bureaucrat passed Stills, Young and even The Cros through before preventing Graham from entering his homeland.  "What the....?".  More celebrity tales ensued with the story of how He and Joni were shopping and she saw a vase in a shop window that would be perfect for the flowers they bought that day.  "Our House" was followed by "Chicago" and "Teach Your Children".  A memorable performance with more than one grown man later admitting he had tears in his eyes.

Jeff Tweedy (Wilco) was next up on Crossroads and kicked off with some serious sonic disturbance powered by his band including son Spencer on drums.  His long ranging set included a solo acoustic portion that provided background to the family reuniting just outside a drinks tent with fellow Canberran Mark O'Brien, who, like daughter Alicia, was enjoying his first 'fest.  Next up, St Paul and The Broken Bones.  Who?....

Only the STARS of Bluesfest 2016!.  James takes up the story:

"Mmm gurl. St Paul. What a voice!."  He reminded me of an American Idol contestant.  You know, the type of contestant who on first viewing isn't exactly appealing to the eyes.  But man oh man, once they start singing, they're suddenly the best-looking person in the room.  Think your stout IT geek, mixed with the voice of Otis Redding and you get St Paul.  Close your eyes and you would have thought it was the great Otis himself.  Let's not forget about St Paul's fabulous backing band, with the brass section particularly on point.  A great melting pot of Soul and RnB originals straight out of Birmingham Alabama, mixed with a couple of fantastic covers ~ "Shake" by Sam Cooke and "She's So Heavy!" by the Beatles.  St Paul and the Broken Bones were definitely my Friday night highlight.
Thanks James!

The National in Mojo were delivering, but a 30 metre deep mosh pit is simply not my scene.  Rather, the next destination must be back at Crossroads to see the Mick Fleetwood Blues Band.

For some, Bluesfest is getting in early, picking a seat, storing your luggage/food/drinks/blanket/crystals etc and getting nice and comfy so you can stare at a screen just like in the cinema.  Getting down up front with the singing, dancing and sweating hoi poli is not their thing.  We, however, like to move about checking out the stages at the dark end of the street.  Tex Perkins (and his Ape) were doing their thang at Delta, sending a frisson of uncertainty down the spines of the uninitiated.  "How you doin'?", Tex enquired.  "Boy!  This is some Bluesfest ~ something here for everyone."  Pause.  "The Residents?...... Really??........ Wow! Who booked them???.  He must be a shill for the legendary experimental avant-garde currently answering to Randy, Chuck and Bob.  Tick, another notch on my schedule!

Across to the tiny Juke Joint for Chain and their Robert Johnson fixation before dropping into Jambalaya where The Wailers were performing their album "Uprising".  Fantastic, just as good as last night, and probably just as great tomorrow.  The bus line was getting rowdy as we wearily joined the queue for the trip back home. Au revoir.

Hip-Hop Holy Thursday

Thursday night loomed large at Bluesfest as premier stage Mojo was turned over to the contemporary sounds of urban RnB, a move to attract the younger aficionados and fans of Grammy winner Kendrick Lamar, D'Angelo, Kamais Washington and our own Hiatus Kayote.  To emphasise the significance of the occasion, daughter Alicia likened tonight to my seeing The Beatles.  Hmmm...
As subsequently reported to my friend Barry McGloin, a fellow Bluesfest tragic, that tonight Mojo was not quite my cup of tea with melody replaced by 'tude and way too much motherf.......

Like a country rube wandering the State Fair goggle-eyed, I dipped in and out of various stalls and stages window-shopping their contents.  Juke Joint featured stalwarts Chain, Eugene 'Hideaway' Bridges and gem of a blues pianist Lucky Peterson.  He was entertaining  a small crowd hardly commensurate with his talent, the usual Thursday night crowd vacuumed up by Mojo's headliners.  Nearby big brother venue Crossroads was partially filled as the Cold War Kids presented their indie pop, followed by the classy, if slightly indulgent Tedeschi Trucks Band.  I caught a little of Mali blues band Songhoy Blues with their unique take on the blues, and up and coming Rhiannon Giddings who is garnering exceptionally good revues.  I would have stayed, however my appetite was insisting I search for forgotten sustenance from the always inviting Crossroads food hall.

Past festivals have convinced me Jambalaya is just about my favourite stage, and tonight was no exception where The Wailers were playing album "Exodus" in its entirety, the first of three successive performances that would include "Uprising" tomorrow night and "Survival" on Saturday.  As I entered the tent "Jammin'", a crowd pleaser if there ever was one kicked in and I was soon getting down along with the crowd.  Original Wailer Aston 'Family Man' Barrett, topped with an ancient dreadlock crown, laid down a seriously pure chunky reggae groove for the new lineup led by singer Dwayne Anglin who channeled Bob Marley.  So great, we will return.

On The Road Again to Bluesfest

Like a two bob watch or a politicians' promise, Bluesfest and it's gym buddy Easter has again arrived irregularly.  Five days of fun, feasting and music await.

Our trek north from the nations'capital has proved yet again that the journey is as vital and enjoyable as Bluesfest itself.  We committed early in our planning to drive the 1000 plus kilometres instead of flying, but chose an internal route rather than that stressful beast ~ the Pacific Highway.  Departing Canberra late morning, we travelled to Cowra where we lunched on sambos washed down with a cuppa ~ "Where's the fruit cake?".  On to school-exiting Bathurst and our destination Mudgee.  As more road works temporarily blocked our way, we turned right into historic Sofala, Australia's oldest surviving gold-rush town.  "Great, there's a pub, I'm parched", any excuse will do.  "A glass of your finest Chardonnay and a schooner of Toohey's Old, Thanks."

Ben, mine host at the Gungegong Valley Motel, suggested I top up with cheap fuel as Easter was approaching and it's boon companion price-gouging was awakening.  Seeking sage culinary advice I approached old school friend Paul Marshall, an expert on Mudgee's hospitality.  "Whatever you do, don't drink and drive ~ the cops are deadly".  Despite Paul's faint disapproval, we walked into central Mudgee and dined at The Court House Hotel opposite the cop shop.  My never-ending search for a pepper sauce that rivals Kim's remains, however it wasn't bad with the rare inclusion of green peppercorns gracing the gravy boat of sauce.  We complimented our hostess Amanda on the meal and the robust local Shiraz she suggested and found that she and Kim shared North Shore roots having both grown up in Pymble.

A leisurely jaunt back to our motel was enlivened by the undulating streetscape and the various architectural stylings.  Good vibes and good night!.