Jesus Died for Somebody's Sins

On holiday it's the little things you appreciate.  Promite instead of vegemite, organic milk, The Byron Echo's activist reporting.  Today is gradually building up to full speed accompanied by bird sounds alien to this little black duck.  My aching feet have begun to recover from Holy Thursday's Bluesfest pounding.

Visions of Patti gradually unravelling her grey plaits midway through the B side of Horses ("where you turn the record over and place the needle in the starting groove") and her listing of lost friends and lovers during Elegy, remain vivid.  What a show.  Despite having performed her 1975 classic album a million times, Patti and band including original members Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Daugherty made the adoring crowd feel they were experiencing something special.  I thought her performance tonight surpassed my previous encounter with her five years earlier at the Opera House.  Maybe she is mellowing with age.

 My Thursday night commenced as it has in earlier Bluesfests, taking a leisurely wander along the festival midway checking out earlier offerings.  At the small Juke Joint tent Joan Osborne, accompanied by guitarist and keyboard, treated us to a master class in song interpretation with a fabulous version of Dylan's Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat.  Despite having been nominated many times for R'n'B and Blues Grammys, Joan was no diva and treated the small but growing crowd to a fine show.  After a particularly emotional performance of her own XXXXX, she apologised to us for America's election of Donald Trump.  We understood when she said it would be cowardice to run away.  I will be seeing Joan again this weekend.

At the adjacent Delta stage Nikki Hill was tearing the place up! I had not selected her in my personal planner application which proves the old adage You will regularly be surprised by the breadth and quality of acts at 'fest.  I had mistakenly thought Nikki was from the school of modern R'n'B where 'tude was as much an ingredient as content.  Boy, how wrong could I be.  To quote the Planner This blues shouter and growler is a southern bona-fide rock'n'roller strongly influenced by Little Richard.
 ... a spitfire with the soul-drenched voice of Etta James and the attitude of the Cramps' Poison Ivy.  She and her hot band rocked!

All these new-fangled technical toys are a wonder to behold, but for a practising Luddite nothing beats the trusty printed schedule.  By Monday the holiday house will be strewn with dog-eared seamed copies covered in illegible markings identifying housemates' devotion to obscure artists and tastes.  A couple of pristine copies will have found their way into my luggage for archiving and future perusal  Ah!, Remember how good Steve Miller was back in 2013.

Despite a stellar lineup at Jambalaya (St Paul, Trombone Shorty, Mavis Staples et al), Mojo was our principal stage of choice.  Vintage Trouble, resplendent in snappy titfers and frock coats and fronted by Ty Taylor in an armoured silver snakeskin suit, were up first.  How did I miss them last year?  Their rhythm and blues style is right up my alley, and like Leon Bridges play a stew of authentic sixties soul music reminiscent of the days of juke joints and vinyl records.  Ty's acrobatic antics utilising the mic stand is a fun trademark.

Courtney Barnett had the unenviable job of being followed by Patti Smith, but she and her band just went for it.  From the no-frills CB3 taped on the bass drum to the in-your-face hairstyles, they punk-rocked Bluesfest.  The bemused look on the faces of the chair people was a joy as Courtney's trademark Aussie deadpan drawl was not what they expected.  Favourite songs like Avant Gardener and Depreston with their banal suburban lyrical content were starkly enclosed by the scratchy lead breaks, thumping rhythm section and feedback of her other songs.  Courtney's farewell to the fun festival was endearing.  She's a gem!