Alejandro Escovedo and Allan MacInnis, by Erik Iversen, not to be reused without permission
All other photos by Allan MacInnis, not to be reused without permission
This was my first time at the Vancouver Folk Festival, and I hope it won't be my last. An immensely positive, moving experience, previously written about here (an Escovedo-centred preview) and here (my review of day one with a few flash forwards into day two).
I loved the idea of tweeners, the short sets between the main stage concerts. The photo above is of is Bella White. I missed her main set, but glad to have seen her at least a little - my favourite tweener who I didn't already know. (Ford Pier and Fortune Block both did tweeners, too). The Vancouver Fiddle Club tweener was another treat, and surprisingly deft for a bunch of young folks. I think I heard them after dark one night, jamming in a tent while I was stealing away from some main act or other, and while I didn't investigate, I loved the idea of that - kids in a tent, after their show at a folk festival, playing the fiddle together.
There were few points during the festival where the skies were not threatening to rain, but we only encountered a few drops here and there, getting off pretty lucky. I've heard tales of the Young Canadians performing "Hawaii" to drenched outdoor crowds - which is pretty damn fitting, really - and I personally stood in the rain at a Lollapalooza once while the Violent Femmes broke into "I Hear the Rain," but I think sitting on the ground would lose some of its blush if it meant sitting in a puddle - even if you had a tarp!
It is curious to me how vast the chasm was between what to me were the too-earnest, too overt politics of SGaanaGwa - who, despite some very cool Haida harmony vocals, actually used words like "colonialism" in their lyrics, which made them feel more like speeches than songs - and the bad decision of Asleep at the Wheel to start their set by covering Bob Wills' "Cherokee Maiden." which is one of those 50's novelty songs that offputtingly paints a cute face on genocide (just as well they performed on different days - Asleep at the Wheel was on Saturday, SGaanaGwa on Sunday).
Songs like "Cherokee Maiden" (or my personal favourite Bob Wills' "novelty genocide" tune "Running Bear") probably need to be retired from public performance. They're inoffensive on their own, maybe, if you erase all trace of the overall context in which they were written, but sometimes the context is important. Maybe the vibe in Texas, where Asleep at the Wheel hails from, is different, but if we're taking down statues of the first Prime Minister because of his association with residential schools, probably we can afford to take down a few songs, too. It wouldn't have lessened the charms of Asleep at the Wheel's very trad country swing (personally I prefer Petunia and the Vipers, but I'm biased towards locals)..
On the other hand, without her songs ever feeling like she was speechifying, it was really nice that Allison Russell started her Saturday concert by smudging herself and her band. I only saw a few songs of that, feeling exhausted from writing notes and running around the festival grounds, so I ducked out early, also missing the New Pornographers, just as I had missed Taj Mahal and would later miss all but a minute of Five Alarm Funk.
Not only did I leave early every day, the better to bus and train back to Burnaby, I also arrived late on Sunday, as I had spent much of that morning preparing my notes for publication of part one - thereby missing half of the South Stage workshop with Frazey Ford, Allison Russell, and Clerel, which saw the three supporting each other trading off songs as lead vocalist, including some covers. Shortly after I arrived, Frazey did a Dylan song she's been known to do, "One More Cup of Coffee," with a cute, smiling lyrical flub for "Your loyalty was not to me but to the stars above" ("your something was... something... to the stars above," she sang, shaking her head, and all of us chuckled. Such moments can actually bring you closer to a performer, humanize them.)
Clerel, also an artist whose main performance I missed, covered Smokey Robinson's "Cruisin'," but I had to look it up on Google as he performed. His voice was powerful and beautiful and I was glad to see him getting some press as I hung out at the media tent, waiting for an interview that never happened (I only got to talk to Fortune Block, but truth be known, I'm relieved; my backlog is enormous).
Allison got the biggest laugh of the set, or at least of the part I saw, by pointing out a "Vancouver fun fact" about Sade (apropos of a cover of "By Your Side"), saying that Sade lost the Grammy that year to Nelly Furtado! Never dig get the name of her fiddler ("violinist?") - Allison introduced everyone but sometimes I was in the middle of making a note about something else and didn't write things down, presuming it would be on the Folk Fest artist page... but there was some very trance-inducing stuff coming from her on Sunday, especially. And such great hair!
Frazey seemed to have more fun dancing on the smaller stage with Allison and Clerel beside her than for her own mainstage concert. She was in a sober blue pantsuit that I liked much better than her pink stripy thing (it looked more comfortable, too), but my photos don't really do it justice. I couldn't see Allison at all that day - she was hidden by a tree where I sat on the fringes of the accessibility area. She's the person I am most interested in checking out music by, after the fest is over, the artist (beside Fortune Block, whose CD I bought, more on whom later) who came as the most delightful surprise... but her CD rack was empty in the Neptoon tent.
Frazey talked at one point about "the joy of raising healthy kids" after having had a somewhat traumatic childhood, which it sounded like Allison could identify with. It fit the overall vibe of the festival, which was quite healing and healthy - though I loved that Frazey joked about bringing the vibe of the day down by ending the workshop with a fairly cranky original, "Done." But of course, nearly everyone got up and danced for that. Me too, behind my new tree-friend.
Afterwards, passing the East Stage, I snapped a couple of quick photos of Quote the Raven, a Newfoundland duo who were doing a song I quite liked, I believe called "Already Gone" (no relation to the Eagles song of that name). It doesn't appear to be on their bandcamp or main page, but it was a potent tune, with the right blend of lyrical warmth and emotive wit. Later, as I was walking my wife around the grounds, I ran into them and snapped a photo; why not?
Food Truck time followed fast with Erika joining me late (she missed Frazey, who is a favourite of hers, but caught Witch Prophet and the Escovedo/ Pier/ Fortune Block workshop). We tried the Baja Fries at Dos Amigos, which a friend had previously recommended, but I think they should have called it "Mexican poutine," since it was basically cheese, salsa, and a topping over fries. It was yummy, regardless. It was the only meal where I forgot to ask for more sauce, but went down easy enough.
I have one more big thing planned, probably for tomorrow, about the Escovedo/ Pier/ Fortune Block workshop, which came next (I had already interviewed Fortune Block by that point). It was great, and Escovedo told a compelling story about his father, apropos of his song "Wave," but sometimes it is just too hard to take notes - you kind of have to be there. He also did "Sensitive Boys," dedicating it to the Kinmans for that performance; it was (I think) the one song he repeated in both sets, later on (at the main stage) dedicating it to those we have lost along the way.
Apparently the last time Erik Iversen was at the Folk Fest, he was sitting with Sherri Decembrini (it was also the last time Art played Vancouver, too, back in 2018). I can find no obit of her online but gather her death was a freak accident, a fall. Erik commented he'd wished he'd gotten photos of her.
There was a lot of heaviness hanging overhead, really, lots of thought to the fragility of what we have (I kept thinking of a Robert Duncan line, springing to mind for no real reason: "How tenderly they must attend these friendships or all is lost/ All is lost/ Only the faithful hold this place green"). It only meant that we needed something like this even more.
Once in place in the East Stage audience, ready for the workshop, I found myself in a moment of slight conflict with the woman in front of me, who turned in her lawnchair to give me a stern look when I whooped too loudly, too close to the back of her head. Afterwards, I ended up showing her the scars up both my forearms, by way of explanation: "I wasn't being a jerk - I've had surgery recently and can't really clap, so I whoop!" (I tried to whoop less loudly from then on). It prompted some reflection about aging. I was born too late to ever be a hippie or a boomer, but if my cancer stays away, maybe I'll be around in twenty years' time and still making it out to the festival. It was nice to see that there are in fact tons of people in their 70's and upwards who came out. There were plenty of young families, many with children, who came out too, but I'd say the majority of the attendees were 60+. I wonder how many of the older attendees get out for exactly one live music experience a year: this one?
It must be pretty amazing for them.
Venturing back after the workshop, I find myself on a mission to deliver Ford Pier to where Alejandro was posing with Brent Kane for photos by Erik Iversen. I collected Fortune Block for this, too. More on that tomorrow (or soon). I did take advantage of chatting with Mr. Escovedo to let him know that I was the 5 o'clock interview that his manager had briefly scheduled, then cancelled at Alejandro's request - wanted to mention that perhaps we could do it later, but it didn't have to be later that night. I'm still game.
He was very happy to have a photo with Ford and gave me a nice "gracias" comment on Facebook when I posted it.
Erika, during her time there, was happy to peruse the clothing, but neither of us could find things we like that fit. After the workshop, I helped load her back out - she just wasn't up for the whole evening, has a dress pattern of her own that she's working on. I was very glad to have shown her the grounds, though. Less glad about helping carry her lawnchair back to the car, but I'm glad she didn't have to carry it twice!
On returning, I headed into the beer garden in back, searching out de-alcoholized beer. I spied Beau Wheeler at a table with friends. When I waved, they enthusiastically say "Dude!" and run up to me for a hug, while I ponder what the gender-neutral equivalent of "Dude" is. Comrade? Pal? My wife and her brother call each other "Dude" but it didn't seem right to reciprocate with Beau, so I think I just opted for "Hi, Beau!" (Previous interview with Beau here - there is a new album underway! I wonder if Beau will be open to our next conversation including a bit of a "gender-neutral 101" element?).
When I mentioned that I have a Dayglo Abortions piece in my backlog, Beau told me a great story (one of those 'ask them about it later' kinda stories) about their first rock concert, where the Dayglos headlined, but it was the opening act, a metal band, that made the biggest impression, because the crotch of his string-tied spandex pants was altogether too close to Beau's face. The whole time. I have had my face too close to Randy Rampage's crotch, at that Vancouver Complication reunion gig - I was right up front when he led a large ensemble in the Stooges' "No Fun" and whether I wanted to contemplate the bulge in his jeans or not, it was RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME. But - though Rampage was the singer in a couple of metal bands - Annihilator, Stress Factor 9 - there is no reason to think Beau and I have had our faces in the same crotch. The idea amused me, though, so I did ask, "Was it Randy Rampage?" I think the answer involved the sentence "It was a long time ago..."
All the water dispensing stations were staffed by volunteers, who would turn the spigot for you, so as to prevent transmission of diseases. At one point, I raised my (full) cup of water and said something silly to the fellow who'd poured for me, saluting his service. I got a laugh. The water areas seemed to be mostly located in the back of the main area; having a water dispenser nearer the main food truck area would have been welcome, too, though I guess fewer drinks would have been sold.
If I had quibbles with anything about how the fest was laid out. it was the lack of signage. There were a few around, natch, but a few more boards in the trees telling people where the main stage, east stage, south stage and west stage were could have made the experience of navigating the grounds a bit easier. Having already been lost on Day One, then getting more oriented on Day Two, I found myself at my most discombobulated on Sunday. At one point, I had to make my way from the west stage to the east stage, at the furthest extremes of the festival grounds, while I was still prepping for the Escovedo interview I thought I had scheduled for 5pm. I was lost in thought about questions - I wonder if he knew Townes? (More on whom later, too). Somehow, I stopped following the trails and started just following music, and found myself not at the East Stage, but the South Stage, where Lache Cercel's Roma Jazz Ensemble was playing. (I hadn't thought I would be able to catch any of that, but I've gone to see him at East is East on Main Street which is a great experience, if you've missed out. Not sure when he plays but it's fantastic, as is the food). Happily, I found myself there just in time to listen to a Stephen Nikleva-led number, off Square Moon, and lingered for a while as I tried to orient myself. But then I couldn't remember which way I wanted to go from there, and ended up heading back to the main stage area instead of the East Stage, so that I finally arrived at the Escovedo/ Pier/ Fortune Block workshop just as it was getting underway.
Didn't think of it until just now, but Mr. Chi Pig, one of the last times I saw him at Pub 340, cracked wise about the shirt I was wearing on Sunday, saying "Nice blouse - it reminds me of my grandmother's tablecloth." But Chi could be acerbic, and I got a chuckle out of it myself. I mean, I see his point. I am glad that Ford namechecked him a few times - more on that later, too, but Sunday the 17th was the second anniversary of his death.
As for getting lost, a bit later on, having thrown down a plastic-wrapped pillow and my backpack amidst the tarpers, I found myself lost in a maze of tarps and lawnchairs, trying to get back from the beer garden with my water and San Pelligrino to the area I had marked, going through the inevitable paranoia that someone might have run off with my pack. But no one did. It took me quite some time to find my spot, but in this case, extra signage would not have helped!
Once it came Escovedo-time, I found an even better patch of grass to throw down on. A partner in journalism has informed me that the mad dash to stake out territory in front of the stage has been referred to as the "Birkenstock 500," but I saw no evidence of territorial squabbles or hysteria to claim space.
If fact, the person to the left of me actually offered to let me sit on their tarp! And I got joined in my square by another fellow who just sat on the grass beside me. Knowing I would soon leave, I ended up giving him my plastic-bagged pillow when I started making my way out, during "Castanets," the final song (I think) of the main set (I actually submitted my first Setlist FM setlist for this concert. Do tell if I've missed anything).
...And as for everyone sitting down, Escovedo accomplished the unlikely, instructing the audience for "Always a Friend" to get up and dance, or do something - "Please don't just sit there." It sure worked! He got everyone clapping, too; often clapalongs can seem cheesy, but for him, it was like the performance extended way out into the audience... Even the lawnchair-settled couple in front of me got up and danced and clapped.
Escovedo's encores were the Modernettes' "The Rebel Kind" - he gave shout outs to John Armstrong and Randy Carpenter, who co-wrote it - and an intense "Like a Hurricane," which he described as "the Canadian national anthem." Second best performance of that song I've ever seen (the first was Neil Young and Crazy Horse at the Fuji Rock Festival, with enormous candles lining the stage, flames flickering in the wind...
I poked around the Neptoon tent for another few minutes after Alejandro had finished, and could see as I was leaving that plenty of people were up and dancing to Five Alarm Funk, too, thank god. Going to see them and just sitting there would be wrong.
(I guess they guide everyone back out, but I only saw them going in one direction, as I went in the opposite, but I stood there trying to get a few good photos.)
I got lost in a slightly different way on the way out, even despite the lanterns. I was nowhere recognizable, anyhow, and seemed far from the main entrance. It was dark, I dunno., but I had to walk a few blocks to fourth. I'd charged my phone just enough at the Neptoon tent that I could use my GPS, and eventually I found myself back at 4th and Alma, listening to Alejandro Escovedo's Real Animal on my headphones until the charge died again.
To close the circle, I stopped into Fresh Slice, then walked from 4th to Broadway (the third time I'd made the trek that day - because my wife had driven me back to the main gate after we got the chair back to her car). I'm working on a big, final piece on Fortune Block and that Heartworn Highways workshop, more on which tomorrow, or soon. but otherwise, that's it: my attentions must then turn to Eugene Chadbourne's concert this Friday at LanaLou's. And Saturday, for free, at Central City, though we're emphasizing the Lana's gig more, because that's the one that needs a nice big audience!
Eugene has played the folk fest a couple of times, I think. Definitely once, because I considered going. He's in town right now, in fact, so if you see someone on the street and think, "Is that Eugene Chadbourne?" well, it might just be. For the Friday show, Red Herring opens at 9, Eugene goes on at 10. I'll be at both. See you there?
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