Wasted Again In Margaritaville

Casual Friday assumed a new meaning at Bluesfest: Red Indian headdresses, gumboots, Hawaiian shirts, dreadlocks ~ sometimes all at the same time.  Like many I wore a previous year's festival t-shirt (2015) proving my authenticity.  Nothing spells strap-on quite as much as this year's model ~ it's so next year.  Sarcasm and irony are difficult to achieve during a week's holiday in Byron Bay.  Chill out pal!

Blanch's 4.30 bus service is a multilingual maelstrom of scarves, bobble shorts and fluro wristbands signifying your length of commitment.  I'm perched on a seat hovering under a hairy armpit attempting to avoid a lethel leather backpack.  The requisite cluster of tanned European babes occupy the adjacent seats.  No way!, He's not stopping to pick up more passengers, it's chockers as it is.  I really needed that roadie.


Patti Smith performing an acoustic set at Crossroads looms large, as does the crowd.  It's not normally this packed on Friday.  Just after 5.15pm the crowd reacts as Patti walks on stage and proceeds to read the footnote to Ginsberg's Howl.  This will be interesting.  The bloke next to me says I hear she was great last night.  Hell yeah!.  Patti's idea of acoustic is apparently different to mine as it still involves bass and drums even if played with padded sticks and brushes.  An excerpt from her fabulous autobiography Just Kids is followed by the song Wing and then by Jesus' Sermon on the Mount ~ You kill me Patti.  She took no chances with Dylan's A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall this time, accompanied by a lyric sheet.  Unlike Bob's rendition in 2011, it was not the harbinger of a downpour.  Without a doubt, Bluesfest 2017 belongs to Patti Smith.

At Jambalaya, Roy Ayers and combo were funking it up with some intricate xylophone led jazz rhythms.  It was not my cup of tea but was appreciated by an enthusiastic audience.  James reckoned that was due to our immature musical development.   Having sampled Roy, we headed up to Delta for Devon Allman and some Southern rawk!   It was just as I expected ~ damn good!  A heartfelt version of No Woman, No Cry had the crowd totally involved and he very graciously awarded Bluesfest his favourite festival accolade.

Next, the California Honeydrops.  Man, that singer personified blue-eyed soul.  An accomplished musician (guitar, trumpet), he had the patter delivered over a solid rhythm section.  A totally crowd-pleasing set that included a Dixiland component accompanied by washboard.  We will see them again as they are appearing every day of the festival.

What's that sound?.  It's my stomach growling, I need tucker.  Man cannot survive on beer and bourbon alone.  In anticipation of fulfilling Kim's order for some Kick-Ass Indian, James and I joined a long slow moving line.  Nope, I can't wait said James.  I might miss out on some great music.  Unlike most of the food offered Kick-Ass was anything but with a sole butter chicken dish and samosas on offer.  Still it filled the gap.

Post-repast we went to Crossroads to see Bonnie Raitt's sole performance.  She was terrific and introduced her guest Joan Osbourne for a great duet.  Those ladies can sing!  Keyboard player Mike Finnigan led a Hammond-drenched BB King cover spiced by Bonnie's tasteful Stratocaster lead lines.  Prior to her encore she acknowledged the death of Chuck Berry and sang a Fabulous Thunderbirds cover in homage.  Just terrific.

Knowing you need to pace yourself if you want to last five days, we passed on The Lumineers and Mountain Goats and headed for the south exit.  As if by magic, we were drawn into Jambalaya where perennial favourites Playing for Change were performing.  If they are perennial favourites, why haven't I ever seen them before?.  I must be nuts.  According to the Bluesfest app Playing For Change are more than a band, they are a movement.  If you're not dancing and grinning like a loon ...., well get your ears checked.  As Keef says Playing For Change, that's the way music was meant to be.  

Thanks Keef.