Day 1: Thursday, August 10
I was super excited to be returning to the
Edmonton Folk Music Festival this year. I've been to the
festival in 1995 and 2000, so I guess I was a year late on my
five year plan. I hadn't planned on going, although the lineup
was amazing, as usual, but when my dear friends The Wailin'
Jennys dangled a guest pass in front of me, I could not
hesitate. Not only would I get to see one of this country's
great festivals, but an amazing lineup, and I'd finally get to
check out the legendary Alberta hospitality and parties. I knew
this was going to be good. I just didn't know quite how good.
Opening night looked like a mixed bag. I was
really curious to see headliner Linda Rondstadt, but I really
don't know a lot of her stuff, so she wasn't one of the ones I
was dying to see. I was eager to see Austrailia's The Waifs
again, after a long absence from our city and festival, but I
knew I'd have other chances over the weekend. The same could be
said of K'Naan, who I've heard so much about. I've never been a
huge hip-hop fan, but I appreciate it (plus, I'm trying to
quickly become "hip" and "cool" because I'm teaching middle
school this fall, and they'll eat me alive if I come across as
what I am, old and boring. Do kids really use "hip" and "cool"
anymore? Maybe I have more work ahead of me than I thought.) I
have no desire to ever see Bedoin Soundclash again (I really
have no idea why they get to play every single Canadian festival
this year and hordes of other more interesting and talented
bands sit at home praying for such an opportunity), and I'm not
familiar with Eileen Ivers and Immigrant Soul. All of this is a
long winded explanation for why I decided to stay home Thursday
night. I saved some dough, got some sleep, did my radio show,
and took my time packing and getting ready. I didn't know it at
the time, but the weather was lousy on Thursday night and
Rondstadt got mixed reviews at best, so I guess I made a good
choice.
Day 2: Friday, August 11
I was eager to make sure I made it to Edmonton
on time for the start of the festival on Friday, because there
was a workshop right away (Edmonton holds workshop sessions for
the early part of Friday night and starts the mainstage at 9)
that I was really wanting to see. I was trying to arrange for
myself not to have to kill a lot of time in the city before the
festival, but still leaving myself plenty of time to get over
there. I made two mistakes in doing this. One, I thought that
the airport right near the festival hotel was "THE" airport,
when it turns out that it's just "AN" airport, a very important
semantic difference. Secondly, I assumed that my plane would
leave on time. I had arranged for a flight that would get me
into Edmonton just before 4:00, leaving me with what I thought
was plenty of time to get to the festival. You know where this
is going I guess. First, my flight out of Winnipeg was over an
hour delayed. The friendly Westjet folk tried to blame this on
bad weather in Saskatoon (seriously, shouldn't we be blaming a
more evil city like Toronto or Calgary for all of our
problems?), but I think they just did it to prove that I'm an
idiot for assuming that I could make it on time. When we did
arrive not long after 5 or whatever, I figured I was still close
enough to the hotel that I could possibly make it. Again, I was
proven dumb. The Edmonton International Airport isn't actually
in Edmonton. It turned out to be over an hour away (in terrible
rush hour traffic yet. Smart, Jeff, very smart.), so I was late.
The workshop I really wanted to see was called
"Troubles" and it featured the stellar lineup of The Waifs, Paul
Kelly, Lynn Miles, and Sandy Scofield. Normally I like to get to
a festival early so that I can take a walk around the grounds
and get a feel for the place (ok, so I'm in a rush to find the
CD tent), but there would be no time for that right off the top.
Since I had arrived in Edmonton, a light rain had been falling,
and it would continue throughout the night. I made my way over
to the stage all decked out in my full body armour to protect me
from the elements. A good sized crowd was on hand, but somehow I
was able to weasel my way really close to the front to catch the
show and snap some photos.
When I arrived, The Waifs were doing a number
that I thought was "Your Cheatin' Heart," but I quickly realized
that they'd just stolen the melody and put their own lyrics
behind it. It was a fine song and it got me feeling much more
relaxed and happy to be there right away.
Immediately following that was Lynn Miles,
performing one of my favourite songs, "Black Flowers" (although
I have so many favourite Lynn Miles songs.) I had seen Paul
Kelly in Winnipeg only two nights prior to this (a stunningly
great show. Paul Kelly should be world famous. Why does North
America fail to see this?), so I already knew my part of his
sing-along number, "Passed Over." The crowd was quiet, but
willing to play along.
The Waifs are veterans of enough folk festival
workshops to know that the last number should be a rousing
number that all performers on stage can jam along to, and they
made an interesting choice. They decided to do a cover of a
great Paul Kelly number called "From Little Things, Big Things
Grow." I'm not sure whether she was nervous because Paul was
there or what, but Donna from the Waifs kept screwing it up! I
kept waiting for Paul to jump in and save her, but he waited
patiently and let her sweat it out on her own. Eventually, she
got her act together and a great show-closer ensued.
I don't like to brag about the fact that I
schmoozed a guest pass to the festival (although I'm eternally
grateful for the wonderful opportunity), but I headed backstage
for dinner, and it was fantastic right away. Souvlaki, pita
bread, little samosas, and all of the fixin's. I knew it was
going to be a great weekend right then and there.
And speaking of the backstage hospitality,
this boy from Winnipeg was shocked to learn that not only didn't
I have to wait in a million lines to buy a plate, wait for slow
food service, and then wait in line again to return the plate,
in Edmonton, get this, they trust me to bring it back! What a
concept! Sure, you're not allowed to take a plate of food out of
the backstage area (but really, why should you need to), but it
was so refreshing to think that a festival might have a little
faith in volunteers and guests. Kudos for that. And once again,
security was not invasive or overzealous. In fact, there's a
separate gate for volunteers and guests, and they hardly gave us
a second look over there. I do love the Winnipeg festival, I do,
but why must they treat me like a common criminal all the time?
I mentioned the rain, right? Well, it had
rained all day Thursday and Friday, and there was a lot of mud
around. I was totally impressed with the site crew who kept
dumping sand down and rolling out plastic mats to keep the mud
at bay so that the festival didn't turn into a mud-fest like
Winnipeg did in 2005 (and pretty much every other year except
this year!) Nevertheless, there was a lot of mud and wet grass
around. I was fine with it, because I was decked out in my
armour, like I said, but I also hoped that the weather would
improve for the rest of the weekend.
Luckily, I have only a few complaints about
the Edmonton festival, and most of them have to do with some of
the stupid people who attended the festival. I could be over-glamourizing
the Winnipeg Folk Festival, but people there seem to be so
respectful of one another. Not in Edmonton. As with all
festivals, the quaint custom is to set up your tarp as your home
base for the main stage. In Winnipeg, once a tarp is set up,
that area is off bounds. People will go well out of their way to
avoid stepping across someone else's tarp. If you have to step
on someone's tarp, it should only be done right at the edge, and
preferably never in front of someone who is watching the show.
In Edmonton, people walk wherever the hell they damn well
please, whenever they damn well please. Throughout the weekend,
I had tons of people walk in front of me, step right over me all
the time, and occasionally, I had people step on me. Very few
ever apologized or seemed to care. Most seemed annoyed that I
was in their precious way. It's so uncivilized and
un-folk-festival.
So, at the end of the night, my tarp was a
muddy, disgusting mess. I kind of expected it to be wet and a
bit muddy, but I didn't expect to have it absolutely covered by
people who couldn't be bothered to walk around. Below is a shot
of my tarp the day AFTER. This is after I'd dried it off and
shaken off lots of the grass and mud.
Back to the music...
After dinner, I headed back to stage 6 (where
I'd seen the previous workshop), for an interesting looking set
featuring Bill Bourne, Baka Beyond, Karine Polwart, and K'Naan.
I've always been a Bill Bourne fan, so am always glad to see him
at a festival (even though I do have a humourous story about
being stood up by him on the way to a radio interview...), but I
guess I went to this workshop more out of curiosity about the
other performers than anything else. I really wanted to see
K'Naan at some point. I'd missed him in Winnipeg and had missed
his concert in Edmonton. I'm not a huge hip-hop fan, but I've
heard that his stuff is intelligent and interesting enough that
I'd really like it. Plus, I really need to know a thing or two
about current music so that my students don't think I'm entirely
old and uncool. I missed much of the set, but managed to catch
him do one song (although I also caught one of his entourage do
a number, because K'Naan passed the mic over to him during one
of his turns. I thought that was classy, although I would have
liked to see K'Naan myself.) Good set, enjoyed the show.
I headed over to the muddy mainstage for what
looked like a rockin' concert. First up was Susan Tedeschi and
her band. I've often thought that if she gets sick of being a
solo artist, she could form a band on the side and call it
Second Raitt, because she sounds so much like Bonnie at times.
She's a pretty powerhouse performer, belting out the rockin'
blues. Nothing earth shattering or terribly original about what
she does, but she put on a pretty good show I thought. One funny
moment came at the end of her set when she was introducing a
medley of tunes that she had planned to end off with. I guess
someone on the crew got really worried that she was going to go
over time, because she got quite defensive and mad at the poor
soul, and said, "I know how much time I have left; there's a
clock right in front of me. I have done this before, you know."
Not exactly polite, but I guess she had a point. But at a
festival when you're trying to stay on schedule, you never can
be too sure that some performer isn't going to play as long as
they please.
Next up were the legendary Neville Brothers.
They performed a pretty solid set, although I guess I was
expecting something a little more upbeat than they gave us off
the top. I watched a bit of their set, but because I'm not a
die-hard fan of theirs or anything and I had such a long day
ahead of me on Saturday, I decided to head back early to dry
off. We got to listen to some of their set in the shuttle van on
the way back to the hotel.
Although I was dying to attend one of the
legendary Alberta after-parties, I decided to hit the sack
early. I wanted to get to the site plenty early to stake out a
good tarp space for the best night of the festival.
Day 3: Saturday, August 12
I got up early and checked the weather. The
forecast was entirely positive. Sun, some clouds, a slim chance
of rain, but "No Precipitation Was Expected." This is important
to note. I checked the weather again and again, and got
different opinions. All seemed confident that there was going to
be no rain, and I guess I believed it. I actually took my rain
stuff out of my bag after packing it the first time, because I
was feeling pretty safe. I only put it back in as an
after-thought, because I knew how cold it got at night and I
figured the rain stuff was the lightest to carry, and the most
likely to cut a wind and keep me warm. This would turn out to be
a great blessing.
First up was one of those horrible festival
decisions, where you have to pick what to see and what to miss.
I could have gone to just about any stage and seen someone I
wanted to see, but I settled on "Peaks and Valleys" with The
Wailin' Jennys, Michael Joseph, Lynn Miles, and Paul Quarrington,
of the band Pork Belly Futures. The Jennys are my friends and
one of my favourite bands. Lynn Miles is wonderful beyond words
(and would get more wonderful each time I saw her at the
festival). I don't know Michael Joseph, but his write-up sounded
good. Paul Quarrington is one of my favourite authors of all
time, having written the brilliant book "Whale Music" among many
other classics, but I'd never seen him in music-mode before, so
I was eager to catch him in action.
One of the biggest surprises of the weekend
awaited me at the workshop, so I was very glad I went. At the
previous night's workshop, Lynn Miles had performed alongside
her brilliant guitarist Fred Guignon. The only other time I have
seen Lynn live was when she played at the Bluebird North tour,
and she performed with just a guitarist backing her there too
(the great Keith Glass, I believe), so I wasn't expecting her to
have a full band along with her. I especially didn't expect that
band to include the mighty Peter Von Althen on drums, or best of
all, one of my favourite singer/songwriters, Jim Bryson on bass!
Jim's normally known for his great guitar playing, so I was
initially a bit disappointed that he was "only" playing bass in
Lynn's band. Never underestimate Jim Bryson folks. Not only is
he a really great bass player, but his harmony vocals were
incredible. He brought a lot to Lynn's shows for sure.
Lynn & Jim showed off their incredible
harmonies on "Over You." Not to be outdone,Paul Quarrington had
a few surprises up his sleeve too, including his backup
vocalist, the great Rebecca Campbell. I've been a big fan of her
work, so was pleased to see her there as well. Paul and Rebecca
proved to be a good team as well, on Paul's song "You Gotta Love
a Train." After a song by Michael Joseph that proved that he
could more than hold his own on that stage full of better-known
folk, The Jennys pulled out a newer song of theirs that they're
still working into their live show, "Firecracker." They
expressed some concern about the performance later on, but I
assured them that it sounded fantastic to me.
Lynn Miles is one of those great combinations
of beautiful, but often hopelessly sad songs, and a wicked,
wicked set of humour. She introduced her song, "This Is the
Night," by saying, "I've written probably 500 songs. 3 of them
are happy. I'd like to play one of them now and get it over
with."
Later, she would remark, "I'd like to do my
other happy song. It's called 'I Give Up.'" That wacky Lynn. She
would also do "Love, Sweet Love."
Quarrington and crew followed that up with a
great one called "Healing Rain."
I didn't write down absolutely everything (and
I would get more lazy as the days wore on), but the Jennys
played "Arlington," "Long Time Traveler," and "One Voice."
I was pleased that Paul Quarrington encouraged
Rebecca Campbell to take over for one of his turns (but was a
bit disappointed that Lynn Miles didn't follow the lead and let
Jim Bryson do one!). She emerged with this bag of music box
parts, and handed them out to everyone on stage. They joined her
on cue during her song.
For the session-ending singalong, Lynn and
Rebecca took the lead. Apparently they played in a country swing
band, called The Black Donnellys, years ago, so they knew some fun covers, and they decided
to lead the band in the old standard, "Don't Fence Me In."
After the session (and some more wonderful
backstage food,) I wandered up the hill to stage 2 to see, "Two
Step." I distinctly remember looking up at the sky and thinking
that it was a really nice day. It hadn't been too hot, as a
breeze blew through occasionally to keep us cool, but it was
warm and sunny. I liked the mix of warm and cool, and thought it
was a perfect festival day. As I walked to stage 2, I noticed
one solitary grey cloud, and laughed to myself that we weren't
going to get any rain out of that one seemingly harmless cloud.
I made my way up close to say hi to Geoff
Berner and see the other participants in the workshop, Le Vent
du Nord, and The Duhks. It was an odd pairing indeed. Le Vent du
Nord and the Duhks seemed to make perfect stagefellows, but what
was Berner doing there? I'll never really know, but it was
mostly to see him that I went to the workshop at all. I was
really enjoying the day and the lively music when the first drop
fell. And it was a big one. Very intermittent, yet big, fat, and
heavy rain drops began to fall. Again I looked up, noticed the
one solitary cloud and figured that a few drops would be all we
would getting. I didn't even think to go for the rain stuff at
that point.
That is, until the skies opened and it started
to POUR. Those drops were heavy. I quickly scrambled to take
cover under my rain gear and cover up my backpack. I didn't even
get that done before the hail began. I've seen hail storms
before, but this one was unreal. The hail stones weren't that
large, thankfully, but there sure were a lot of them. And they
continued to fall as people crowded under the stage tent for
cover. You couldn't be trapped at a hailstorm with any better
performers, as they got the crowd dancing and having a great
time, in spite of the bizarre storm that we were suffering
through.
And then, almost as suddenly as it had
started, the rain and hail dried up, and a glorious day was had
after that. Truly bizarre weather that kept everybody talking
for the rest of the weekend.
Berner didn't really fit in at this workshop
at all, but nonetheless, he had people howling with laughter
during his wickedly satirical song, "That's What Keeps the Rent
Down, Baby." I don't think the french band was all that amused,
but The Duhks sure were fans. They laughed like mad through
Geoff's stuff and called him a brilliant genius from then on.
During the afternoon main stage break, I
decided to make the hike up the hill to take in the sights. The
Edmonton festival has one of the most beautiful and unique
backdrops anywhere. It's a really neat view of the festival
below, and the city skyline towering above.
Unfortunately, to see it all, I had to haul my
fat ass up a really steep, muddy hill. At least I can say that I
got some exercise in Edmonton (which is great, because I don't
get much of it in the course of my hectic life here. Pass the
Doritos.)
The photo below shows the huge beer tent area
to the right, and the food vendors stretching off in the
distance in the middle. Terry will be shocked and disappointed
to know that I didn't visit that beer tent once while I was
there. And actually, I didn't visit the food vendors much
either. I did make regular trips to the CD tent and craft area
(under the pointy tents on the left.)
By the time I was done my hike and the
subsequent urgent medical treatment that followed, the main
stage set was almost done. I knew the next workshop up would be
a popular one, so I wanted to get over there to find a good
spot. Unfortunately, most people were smart enough to make it
over there sooner than I did, because the area in front of stage
6 was absolutely packed. Normally, even a busy workshop yields a
few less-than-prime spots right in front of the speakers or
something, but there was no close space to be found for this
session, so I set up in an unfamiliar position, well back and
off to the side. I wasn't feeling too good about my placement,
but I really wanted to see the session.
The session was called "Coolsville," and it
featured the obviously cool Feist and Hawksley Workman, as well
as questionably cool The Waifs and the weirdest cool guy on
Earth, Geoff Berner.
'
Heck, even Paul Kelly and Jason Collett (at
the right of the above photo) got there earlier than me and got
a good spot. And they weren't even playing for another hour and
a half!
The workshop, musically, was a really fun one,
of course. Berner sang a great song detailing his sneaking
suspicion that something's wrong with the Vancouver police. I
think he may be on to something. He also played his great public
service announcement song, designed to protect audience members
from sure misery and humiliation, entitled, "Don't Play Cards
for Money with Corby Lund." Good advice indeed, but a risky song
to play in high Corb Lund country.
Therein brings me to the un-fun part of this
workshop. The really annoying crowd. Now maybe I was just
sitting in a bad spot, but there were a lot of really dumb
people around. They made no bones about the fact that they were
there to see Feist and/or Hawksley Workman, and they showed no
interest in the Waifs or Berner. That is, until Berner started
talking about Corb Lund and mentioning Alberta in his song. Then
the moron loogans in the crowd started to pay attention, but
after that, it just gave them more cause to talk through the
other performers as they debated the merits of Geoff's material.
Here's another annoying thing about Alberta
folk fest attendees. They never turn their cell phones off. In
all my years at Winnipeg Folk Festival, I've never heard a cell
phone ring during a workshop. In Regina, there was one
particular person who always let her phone ring, but she's the
AD, so I guess she's allowed, but in Edmonton, pretty much every
workshop I attended featured at least one (usually more) ringing
cell phone. The best part is, everyone answers it when it rings!
So you get some moron carrying on a conversation when you're
trying to watch a show. And because the music is fairly loud,
the moron has to speak up and ends up yelling, so you catch
every detail of the phone call (usually some other moron friend
at the festival wondering where the other person is, when they
should meet up, whether their session is worth attending, etc.)
It was really packed at this workshop. I read
later on that it was one of the biggest workshop crowds ever at
the festival. It's certainly the biggest workshop crowd I've
ever seen. Because of the big numbers, people had to sit fairly
close together. I understand that. But some folks took it a
little too far...
I'm a big dude. I need my leg room. So you
can't blame me for stretching out my legs when I get a chance.
Well, a couple of ladies could. They saw that I had plenty of
leg room and asked if they could sit in front of me. I really
did have plenty of room at that time, and even if I split the
difference and pulled up my legs a bit, and they did the same,
we all would have had lots of room. And that's the way it
started out. We were all comfortable and life was good. But
then, these pushy, annoying ladies, proceeded to move back so
that they could stretch out their legs. Eventually, they had
tons of leg room, and annoying woman on the left there was
basically sitting on my damn lap! Look! That's no trick photo.
My knees are pulled up tight and those ladies are stretched out
in the lap of luxury. I'm big on personal space, and this ruined
the rest of the workshop for me.
Well, that and Hawksley's fans, who were
annoying. They hooted and hollered and yelled out requests every
time he even looked at the crowd and paid no attention to anyone
else. I've decided that Hawksley Workman is like a folk-fest
Tragically Hip. The band ain't bad, but their fans are morons.
Hawksley's a talented guy for sure, and I admit that I thought
he was totally amazing when I first saw him, but the novelty has
worn off rather quickly.
At Winnipeg, during one workshop, half way
through, Hawksley thought the thing was over. He figured that he
had time enough for one more song (even though they'd basically
just started), and he wanted to do a singalong. He couldn't
think of anything suitable, so he led the other performers in a
version of, of all things, Silent Night. The only thing that
saved that was the hilarious Chad Van Gaalen, who made up his
own verses about how dumb it was to be doing Silent Night at a
folk fest.
Anyway, I tell you this becuase at one point,
near the actual end of this workshop, Hawksley said, "I'm going
to do something that I played a couple of weeks ago at Winnipeg
Folk Festival, and it went over pretty well there, so I'll give
it a try again." Honestly, I thought he had a delusional moment
and was going to do Silent Night again. Luckily, he did "Mother
and Child Reunion," which genuinely wasn't bad.
I had toyed with the idea of sticking at stage
6 for the next session, featuring Sarah Harmer, Bruce Cockburn,
Jason Collett, and Paul Kelly, because damn that would have been
good, but the annoying and huge crowd was ruining it for me, so
I got out of there.
And boy am I glad I did. Normally, I try to
avoid daytime concerts at festivals, instead cramming in as many
performers as I can by catching workshops. Workshops can either
be frustrating and boring, or truly magical in some cases, so I
stick with those wherever possible. But with the obvious
choice workshop off my list of possibilities, I was left with
the blues workshop, which surely would have been fun, but could
have been very busy, or the sole Ricky Scaggs workshop
appearance, which surely would have been a zoo, or a series of
concerts. One featured Geoff Berner, but I'm going to see him in
a full length show here in Winnipeg next month, so I figured I
could miss that. The Duhks were also doing a show, but I hadn't
come around to their brilliance yet (more on that later), so I
passed on that in favour of Lynn Miles' show.
It was indeed a great show, again made greater
through the addition of her stellar band and her great sense of
humour.
Lynn made her way through most of my
favourites off of her albums (although I really like "Never
Coming Back," and didn't get to hear it. Guess you can't win 'em
all.) Her and Jim really played well off each other. They sang
so well together and worked so well together, I assumed they had
played together a lot, since they're both from Ottawa. When I
talked to Jim later on, I was surprised to find that it was his
first show ever playing in Lynne's band. He had met her and
played alongside her on the CBC show Fuse (which, if anyone has
on tape, I'm DYING to hear), but they each played their own
stuff on that.
Earlier on in the day, I had seen Lynn over at
the Six String Nation tent trying out this amazing piece of
Canadian history. (if you're not familiar with this unique
national artifact, check out the website:
http://sixstringnation.com/en/. It really is an amazing
guitar and what a story!) I had noticed that it was set up
onstage during Lynn's show. At one point, she sent the band to
the back so that she could play a song on it by herself (I guess
she didn't want the likes of them sharing the stage with that
amazing guitar.) She played "It's Hockey Night in Canada," and
there couldn't be a more fitting song to play on that instrument
I suppose.
I wasn't sure anything could top that, so it
was probably for the best that the workshop stages were done for
the day.
First up was blues/soul singer Bettye Lavette.
She's not as well known as many other artists, but she's got all
of the makings (and the confidence/lack of modesty) of a legend.
I really enjoyed her set and her tight backing band.
Following her was Feist. Much like Hawksley
Workman, I was amazed by Feist when I first saw her, but the
novelty seems to have worn off. I really think she's talented
and I'm glad she's doing well, but I took her set as a great
opportunity to grab some dinner and walk around a bit.
I made it back in time to see Ricky Scaggs and
Kentucky Thunder. A better bluegrass band you're not likely to
find, but I'm not the world's biggest bluegrass fan.
Following Scaggs, Jason Collett did a 'tweener
during the setup for Bruce Cockburn. The 'tweener stage is set
so far off to the side that almost half of the audience can't
see whoever's up there, so I always had to run beside the
speakers to watch whenever someone I wanted to see was on. I'm
no genius, and perhaps I'm spoiled by the great sightlines in
Winnipeg, but couldn't they either move the stage forward, or
the speaker towers back so that we could all see the entire
stage? Can someone explain to me why they have the speakers so
far forward in Edmonton? It's not like that in Calgary or Regina
or Winnipeg or anywhere else I've been. Maybe the folks in
Edmonton just haven't asked someone with my amazing common sense
and brilliant ideas. I'll make a note of it and see what I can
do.
Canada's legendary folkie Bruce Cockburn was
up next. Unlike his recent appearance at Winnipeg Folk Festival,
Bruce had a band behind him this time (well, a drummer and a
keyboard player), and I really thought it made the show much
more engaging than his solo show. I love Bruce, don't get me
wrong, but a couple of extra players made a big difference here,
if you ask me.
Even better than that were his guest backup
singers. At the Winnipeg Folk Festival, Bruce had talked to The
Wailin' Jennys and told them how much he liked their record, and
then they discussed a possible appearance together at Edmonton.
They had discussed a few of Bruce's songs that might benefit
from some gorgeous backing vocals. Earlier this day, the Jennys
got to hang out on Bruce's bus to rehearse. Later on, they were
a bit nervous and felt that they needed to rehearse a lot more,
but it sounded pretty magical to me. Together they performed
"Night Train," and "If a Tree Falls." Then the Jennys would
leave the stage, only to be replaced soon after by Hawksely
Workman for a song, then the Jennys came back to join Hawksley
and Bruce on "Mystery." It's so good to see those wonderful
ladies getting some attention from someone as legendary and
influential as Bruce Cockburn. I'd bet that some day they'll be
playing main stage and asking him to join them.
After Bruce was David Gray. This, for me, was the most
interesting programming move of the festival. On the one hand,
Gray is a huge star internationally, who has, to my knowledge,
done very little (if any) touring in Canada. The opportunity to
see a rare Canadian appearance certainly raised my eyebrows. But
I kind of figured he'd be expensive, and might be a bit of a
risk. The true folkies might not approve of spending a bunch of
money on a pop/rock performer at their festival, but I sure was
excited to see him.
David Gray first came to my attention rather late. I heard his
song "Babylon" in a terrible movie in 2001, and I loved it. It
took me a bit of time to track down the album, 1999's "White
Ladder," but as soon as I got it, I loved it. It's full of the
kind of mellow, moody, introspective lyrics that really get me
thinking and feeling, and it's also full of wonderfully
accessible and memorable melodies. For me, that's the perfect
combination. I love the record from start to finish, so for me,
the perfect David Gray show would pretty much contain just that.
I've got some of his more recent work, and enjoy it for sure,
but that album is the one I always reach for.
Over the years, I've read a lot of things about David Gray. I
read that he was kind of cranky and difficult and didn't say
much in concert. I also read at one point that he was sick of
the "White Ladder" record and the attention it received, and
that he didn't want to ever do "Babylon" again. With all of this
in mind, I was a bit skeptical about his show. I especially
wondered how, what I assumed would be a very toned-down show and
production, would go over at a folk festival.
I could tell this was going to be not your average laid back
folk show, because the stage setup was massive. Gray seemed to
have his own crew who loaded tons of gear onto the stage. There
were risers, monitors, a monitor mixer, amps, and tons of
instruments. I couldn't even tell what some of them were or what
they were doing there. I made a point of going up beside the
stage later on just so I could get a better look at the setup.
Then, after the lengthy setup was done, Gray was introduced. And
then, silence. There was an awkward silence of a few minutes. I
kind of wondered whether he'd missed his cue or what, but I
learned later on that he had 4 minutes of silence built into the
schedule. Why?
I'm so glad to say that any fears I had about the show were
totally unfounded. Although Gray's songs are for the most part
kind of mellow and sometimes sad, the show was amazingly
energetic and tons of fun. When he's not singing (and even
sometimes when he is), Gray moves around and shakes his head
like a madman. He is a master showman. He not only sings each
line, he delivers it. Not only did he not avoid the White Ladder
CD, he played almost all of it. After a bit of the amazing show,
I had to make my way to the side of the stage so that I could
get a closer look. I could see his many backing musicians and
the arena-load of gear piled onstage. I was about as close
as I could get at the side of the stage by the time the show
ended with an amazing version of "Babylon." Gray was interacting
with the audience and getting them to sing along, and he seemed
to be having a great time, and the huge crowd that was still on
hand sure was too. It was without a doubt one of the best shows
I've ever seen (well, top 10 anyway).
Was it folk music? Who's to say. Did this big production belong
at a folk festival? Again, you can argue it, but I guarantee it
got some folks excited and talking, and anyone who watched the
show had to be impressed, so I'd say all around it was a huge
success.
I made it back to the hotel and checked out the amazing
after-party for a bit. Where these people get their energy, I
can't possibly know. Unlike Winnipeg's after-parties, which are
really low-key and boring for the most part, Edmonton's parties
are high-energy, alcohol fueled (thanks to the $2 drinks... in
Winnipeg, full of the cheapest people in Canada, they're $5.
Think that has something to do with our low-key parties?), and a
lot of fun. Everybody goes and has a great time. I didn't stick
around for too long after my long hot day (and because I'm a
fool and forgot my sunscreen, I had some burns to attend to...),
so I got to bed at a decent hour so that I would survive the
last day of the fest.
Day 4: Sunday, August 13
I didn't rush out to the site on Sunday. I wasn't dying to get
up close with anyone on the mainstage, so I wasn't too worried
about tarp placement, and there was no workshop right at 11 that
I was running to get a good spot for, so I sauntered in shortly
before 11. Somehow, I managed to lay down my little tarp in
almost exactly the same spot I had the previous two nights (a
repeat of the same miracle that happened in Calgary,
previously), so I was pretty happy, and happy that I hadn't
rushed over too early.
And luckily there was plenty of room up close for the first
workshop I went to, "Young and Restless," featuring Jenny Allen,
Jason Collett, Solas, and Rachelle van Zanten.
This workshop was most notable for pointing out one of my
biggest folk fest pet peeves: performers who whine about doing
morning workshops. Collett and Jenny Allen led the charge by
complaining about how tired and miserable they were, and how
early it was. Well, "BOO HOO!" It was noon, not 7 am. Those poor
musicians absolutely had to stay up all night drinking at the
party, how could they possibly be expected to do their damn jobs
before noon? Shut up and sing or stay in bed.
Luckily, I didn't have to endure much whining. I stayed for a
round or two at the workshop and then grabbed some of the great
backstage brunch before heading off to see The Wailin' Jennys in
concert. Of course the girls were impressive, but what really
impressed me was the huge crowd gathered to watch the show.
Their show was at stage 7, which is a bit of an awkwardly placed
spot with the family area right there, but they sure packed in
the crowd. Even well before the show started, I had a hard time
getting anywhere near the place, which definitely is a good sign
for them. The crowd seemed very appreciative, and hopefully many
of them will go see the girls when they return to Edmonton on
their headlining tour in September.
Right after The Jennys came their label-mate, legendary American
singer/songwriter Greg Brown. As legendary and renowned as Brown
is, I have to say, he had a much smaller crowd than the Jennys
did. I've never had the opportunity to see him live, and only
fairly recently have I come to know and love his music, so this
was a great opportunity to see him and really listen to his
songs at the same time. And I definitely came away with a much
greater appreciation of his talents, and I really understand him
a lot more now.
I guess the most surprising thing for me about this show was
that the great songwriter actually played a whole lot of covers.
I caught covers by John Prine (Angel from Montgomery), Son
House, Bob Dylan, Merle Haggard (Kern River), and of course,
Johnny Cash (Folsom Prison Blues.) As much as I enjoyed those
and appreciated the opportunity to see Brown put his own spin on
some classic songs, I know that those of us who went to see him
went to see him and his own songs. It would have made much more
sense to me for him to focus on his own stuff and give it the
attention that it deserved, rather than have him sit around
singing campfire classics. Nonetheless, it was a great show.
Following Brown, it was time for the mainstage break. On the one
hand, I appreciate these breaks, but in the three times I've
been to the festival, I don't think I've paid attention to a
single act that's played one of these daytime concerts.
Honestly, David Bromberg would have been just as well off doing
a concert at one of the side stages. Most people take it as an
opportunity to visit the food vendors or the CD tent anyway, as
the long lineups would attest. With a fairly short workshop
schedule, this seems to be a bit of a waste of time if you ask
me. Sure, I could probably use the break, but I might like to
see more than 4 workshops in a day also.
Oh, and speaking of the workshops. I have but one small
complaint about the schedule in Edmonton. At our festival,
workshops are scheduled to start on the hour or half hour or
whatever, so they end 10 or 15 minutes early. Stages are usually
set up and ready to go by the time the workshop is supposed to
start. But in Edmonton, each workshop ends at the time that the
next one is supposed to begin. As an audience member, I find
this really frustrating. I get there on time, only to be met
with a long set-up/soundcheck. Why not have those out of the way
before the top or bottom of the hour, so that if a workshop is
supposed to start at 4, it starts at 4? Wouldn't that make more
sense? It seems to work at other festivals, so I found the
Edmonton system a bit frustrating.
After the break, I decided on "Rhythm and Views," featuring The
Duhks, Geoff Berner, and Solas. Sadly, Rodrigo y Gabriela, who
were supposed to play and I was really curious to see, were
unable to make it. We were told that it was because of the major
airline troubles going on, but I heard that they had been there
for their concert earlier on, so I'm not sure why they skipped
out. Once again, Berner seemed like the odd-man-out, set beside
two celtic bands, but he definitely put on a great show anyway.
He actually seemed best suited to the theme of the workshop.
The real stars of this workshop, for me, were Winnipeg's own The
Duhks. I'll be perfectly honest: I'm strongly predisposed to
dislike this band for a wide variety of reasons, none of them
particularly good. Sure, I've heard that they've been doing big
things in the US and have made big gains, but, probably much
like many Winnipeggers, I've never really given them a chance.
In Calgary I discovered that I'd been taking the D. Rangers for
granted and not giving them their proper respect, and in
Edmonton, the same could definitely be said for The Duhks. Dave
Bidini once labeled their music "twiddledy-twee," and I've
always found that particularly amusing, but now I can see that
it's not particularly accurate. They've grown and changed a lot
since they were "just" a celtic band as Scruj MacDuhk (as they
should, having lost almost all of the members of that band), and
have since incorporated a wider variety of styles. Best of all
is the great mix of players in the band. Leonard may be the
driving force of the band, but for my money, the real stars are
the two lovely ladies, Tania Elizabeth and Jessica Havey. Both
are dynamite singers with really powerful stage presence. Havey
could belt out a song with the best of them and not skip a beat,
and Elizabeth is a very talented fiddler who, despite her youth
and small stature, could hold her own on any stage, anywhere.
So, once again, my foolish prejudices were proven to be just
that. I still don't like the goofy band name, but the band
itself, I've quickly become a fan of.
Following this workshop, I faced one of the most difficult
decisions of the festival. Two of the folks I most wanted to see
were, of course, on at the same time. Iris DeMent was doing her
only festival appearance at her solo concert on stage 3 at 4:30.
This left me just enough time to catch a bit of her set before I
ran next door to see Teddy Thompson's concert at 5. Or so I
thought. I got there by 4:30 and a huge crowd was gathered on
the hill awaiting Iris's arrival. The setup seemed a bit weird.
The festival stage crew was setting her up and doing her sound
check for her, while Iris waited backstage and I guess gave
orders. As per my previous complaint, the show didn't start for
a good 15 minutes or so after 4:30. Her stage set up included a
guitar and mic at the front of the stage, and a piano and mic at
one side. The stage crew, wisely, had set up the piano on an
angle so that a good portion of the crowd would be able to see
Iris while she played it. When she finally got up on stage, she
took one look at the piano and called the crew back up to move
it for her. For whatever reason, she didn't like the angle that
the piano was on, and had it moved so that it was more or less
at a 90 degree angle to the back of the stage. Unfortunately,
because she was already off to one side already, and because
once again the sound towers were in front of the stage, instead
of beside it, I'd wager to guess that almost nobody could
actually see her. I certainly couldn't see the piano at all at
this point, and of course, she started out on it. I tried moving
to the side of the stage so that I could at least stand and take
a photo, but there was a blue tarp stretched across for some
reason, so there was no way of actually seeing Iris at all. I
got frustrated after a couple of songs and figured I'd be better
off getting a good spot for Thompson than listening to DeMent
without actually seeing her. I can do that at home!
Like I said, I was eager to see Thompson. He'd done a bunch of
workshops, but for whatever reason, I'd missed every one. His
stuff seemed to be selling briskly at the merch tent, and people
were talking about him, so I knew he was doing something right.
Thompson, of course, is the only son of Richard and Linda
Thompson. With that kind of pedigree, I suppose he could get a
gig at a folk festival just by showing up, maybe playing a few
of his folks' songs and that would be that. But Teddy has forged
his own direction, doing really melodic and interesting pop/soul
kind of stuff. His record "Separate Ways" is one of my
favourites of this year for sure. The album is pretty well
produced and he's backed by a full band on it, so I wondered how
young Teddy would sound by himself at a festival.
Thompson started off seeming to have trouble with his sound. I'm
not entirely sure what he was complaining about, it sounded fine
to me. He didn't say much of anything off the top, just played a
couple of songs, grumbled a bit about the sound, and that was
it. After a few songs, he finally addressed the crowd and told
us that he was in a bad mood, but was starting to come around.
He then proceeded to say that the one thing he was dying to see
at the festival was Iris DeMent's concert, which was on right
next door. He said, "If I were you, I'd get up and go over
there." So some folks did just that. This didn't seem to make
Teddy's mood that much better, but it sure was a great reaction
to a dumb thing to say. It's a good thing his songs are as good
as they are, because Thompson didn't seem all that charming or
engaging. Perhaps he was having a bad day for some legitimate
reason, but as an audience member, I don't want to have to worry
about that. I came to see his best show, and I'm not so sure I
got it. I enjoyed him, and will definitely be watching as his
star rises in the years to come, but I wasn't all that wowed by
Thompson as a performer.
And just like that, the daytime workshops at the festival came
to an end. It had been a great day weather-wise, but I kind of
felt like I hadn't seen all that much, so I was a bit sorry the
daytime portion had to end.
I missed much of mainstage opener Salif Keita's set, but I saw
him again at the party later on so that was ok. A great lively
set of world music.
Next up was Chumbawumba. Like everyone else, the only thing I
know about this band is that they had that huge hit in the 90s.
I had heard that they were this radical, communist, anarchist
band. I expected them to be young and brash and wild. I knew
that they were doing an acoustic set, but I guess I expected it
to be something other than what it was. What it was, was a set
of pretty traditional folk stuff, but with hot-topic lyrics
about homophobia, violence, and politics. I guess that pretty
much describes folk music, though. Even though I live for folk
festivals and host a singer/songwriter show, I must admit, I'm
not a huge fan of real traditional folk music. Perhaps that's
why I was bored to tears by Chumbawumba. And I know I wasn't
alone, judging by the confused looks on some of the faces around
me, and the frequent shouts for their big hit. Every time
someone shouted out for "Tubthumping," the band shrugged it off
and made some snide comment, but I figured that they were pretty
much contractually obligated to play the damn thing, even in
stripped-down, folky acoustic mode. That might have been kind of
cool, actually. I figured that they'd do it last, for their big
finale. And I was so bored and confused by their set, that I sat
through it just to hear that song, so that I'd feel somewhat
vindicated for having sat through their set. But alas, those
crazy radicals did the only truly anarchistic thing they could
do, and didn't play the damn thing. I know some folks thought it
was brilliant, but for me, it was an hour of my life that would
have been better spent in a million different ways.
I got some much needed relief in the form of a Wailin' Jennys 'tweener
set. I couldn't get close enough out front to take decent
photos, so I stood backstage and tried to get some arty ones. In
the photos, it kind of looks like nobody is paying attention,
and during a 'tweener set there is always a large portion of the
audience that isn't, but I can tell you that the girls held
their own and seemed to get a great response from whatever
portion of the crowd was doing the right thing and catching a
bit of their magic.
The second-last mainstage act was the legendary Blind Boys of
Alabama. I've seen these guys before and know that they put on
one dynamite show. There are tons of performers a mere fraction
of their age who could stand to learn a few lessons from these
guys. With a solid set of great gospel, soul, and blues, they
had the crowd hooting and hollering and praising the Lord. I was
sitting at side stage with another kind of religious figure, The
Whiskey Rabbi himself, Geoff Berner, who decided to play doctor
and cure me of the heat exhaustion I was feeling, by feeding me
something called Emergen-C. It's actually not bad. Not a bad
little thing to have on hand at a festival. Thanks Berner. We
enjoyed the witty banter that the Blind Boys were doling out,
and Berner was taking some notes for his set. I know it's not
nice to spy on performers off stage, they're allowed some
private time too, but I had to take note of Iris Dement and Greg
Brown standing right next to me. Iris, who is quite shy and
understated at the best of times, was absolutely feeling the
power of the music and the word, because she was dancing up a
storm like I really didn't think she was capable of. She clapped
and danced and sang and moved around like a woman possessed. It
just seemed so contrary to everything that I've seen in her
before. It was actually kind of neat to see. And afterward, her
and Greg were like a cute, cuddly, newlywed couple, really
enjoying the evening together, and it kind of restored my faith
that somewhere, somehow, happy marriages do exist, even for
"celebrities," such as themselves.
After a high-energy, powerful set like the Blind Boys put on,
Sarah Harmer had her work cut out for her, following that and
closing off a great day at a truly great festival. She's been
playing in low-key, acoustic mode for a while now, and her
sleepy set could have been the perfect relaxing way to unwind
after a long weekend, but I wasn't ready to be sleepy just yet,
and was feeling pretty energized. I love Sarah, but in that
context, I found her set to be kind of boring. It was an
interesting programming move, but from my perspective, and from
the perspective of the many folks who packed up and went home
early, I'm not sure it was a success.
Night time at the Edmonton Folk Fest brings out the lovely
festival candles that are sold throughout the weekend. It's such
a neat idea and it looks so beautiful, looking out on the see of
tiny lights stretched all the way up the hill. My picture sucks,
but it kind of gives you an idea, I guess. It's the kind of
serene, magical image that I want to be left with, and the kind
that I want to end off on. Festivals are indeed a lot of work, a
lot of heat, and especially in Edmonton, a lot of exercise, but
they're also a great way to really sit back, relax, and unwind.
This trip allowed me to really escape from my hectic "real" life
and get away. And since I was at the festival solo, it really
allowed for a lot of thinking and reflecting. All of what
transpired left me feeling really good about the festival, and
it allowed me to come home and get back to work with a clearer
head and a somewhat rejuvenated mind and body. I'm also left
with great memories and some great music, and really, what more
could you possibly ask in life than those things?
Thanks Edmonton, and I hope to see you next year.
Contact me!
