As though channelling Tattoo from Fantasy Island all I want to do is exclaim “AARRGGHH! De RAIN, de RAIN!” from the pit of my stomach, the top of my lungs and the bottom of my heart – but the downpour is so fierce that even a few seconds in it has me drenched to the core, so I think better of it. It’s just after midnight on Saturday night and, still buzzing from dancing my ample behind off to The Cat Empire, I’m unsuccessfully trying to throw another tarp over the back of the Landcruiser’s aging, sagging, canopy in a desperate attempt to keep our clothes, bedding and equipment dry… to no avail. In the morning, we find that the rain has fallen so hard and fast that it has stopped tour buses in their tracks, submerged cars parked in the main streets and, most unfortunately, saturated everything we have brought with us – cutting our Festival tour short but not washing out the experience of the two days we did get to enjoy.
Arriving early on Friday morning – the high-flying corporate nine-to-five day job keeping me from partaking of Thursday night’s opening extravaganza - we parked the huge red Landcruiser aka “The Beast”, collected our passes and made the journey into The Beach Hotel to watch the finals of the Byron Blues Busker Competition.
Sweaty and dishevelled we were dumbfounded to find we couldn’t get a beer until 12pm. ‘Uh, hello, it’s Good Friday people’ we were summarily reminded by friends and urged to ’get with the program’. Anyway, after a great meal and a couple of very cold ales, we enjoyed a couple of sets from various Northern Rivers artists and made our way back to the Festival… and so it begins.
As one of the very few writers that I believe were at the festival (I didn’t meet any more than one other) – the rest relying on static and kinetic film – please note that I tried to see as many of the bands as possible across the time I was there so most entries are a verbal snapshot of each 45min – 1hr set.
1-1.45 Carus and the True Believers
A wrenching meld of rock, bluegrass and balladeering rising to a crescendo that envelops the audience and lets them know why this young Western Australian is on the bill. The highlight track “Torn” depicts a tale of losing a best friend to a car crash. Highly emotive, Carus’ vocal work is impressive over the simplicity of the rhythm and melody.
1.30-2.30 Skatalites
Party reggae ska all the way from Jamaica “mun”. Horns, guitars, piano, drums all meld into an upbeat island holiday vibe.
1.30-2.15 Batacuda Sound Machine
Now, these guys were fun. Drum & bass with funked up MC’s backed by a full compliment of horns in matching red adidas trackies – The Traxedos. The jungle drums sound became turgid with the addition of percussion, piano and guitars; 12 people on stage in all. Moving from rapid-fire hip-hop rhyming to groovin’ reggae and smooth as silk salsa the heat this band created had the embers still smoking as they left the stage.
2.15 – 3.15 GOCOO + GoRo
What shudders your spine like thunder, has been used to represent the actual voice of Buddha, and can move an audience to tears? Taiko drumming. Throughout Japanese history, Taiko drumming was used to summon gods, drive away enemies, ward off evil spirits and distinguish boundaries between villages. Anyone who has heard the thunderous power of these magnificent drums recognizes a compelling spiritual force at work. Visually stunning, this troupe of Japanese artists literally drummed up a tornado of excitement at the Mojo stage. Ambient drums and pipes kept the crowd very quiet until the tempo suddenly increased to a hypnotic tribal calling – the audience heard the cry and exploded into an undulating mass. At the forefront of the stage, swirling cascades of dark hair interspersed with bright white dreadlocks engulfed the female artist who owned them. A truly spectacular display to behold. Additionally, it was show to be a mean feat to get all those drums on and off stage, considering the small size of the backstage area, the logistics behind the scenes was impressive to say the least.
2.45 – 3.45 The Greencards
I’m hoping this band didn’t take their name from the cornier than Big Day Out vomitus movie starring L’Oreal’s Andie McDowall, but from the delays in getting the sound check done and the set started, I’d say they were possibly waiting on Gerard Depardieu to turn up and give them the go ahead. After 20 minutes, my patience ended and, not wanting to miss too much of Daara J, I exited, deciding to come back past on my way to Michael Franti.
So what did I hear on my way back? “Love’s a word I never throw around” Bluegrass finger-picking teamed with a sweet voice – a shame the vocals were laced with such an American twang, I really wanted to hear an Aussie girl cut it in Nashville without having to pretend she’s from the US of A. Regardless, the violin and mandolin appear to be in low husky conversation dripping sweet southern-styled melancholy honey all over the stage.
3.00 – 4.00 Daara J
From rapping along to instrumental French or American raps compiled on tape to touring internationally to much acclaim, Daara J, the Senegali ministers of funk rhyme with a skinny white boy on the decks serve up quite an experience.
Resplendent in their regal, shimmering gowns and colourful headwear, these three MC’s had the crowd waving their hands in the air and rocking left to right in unison like passengers on an old freight train. Deep thorax rumbling vocals reminiscent of Shaggy vibrate to the bone.
It’s clear the collective “We” need a new term for a kind of hip hop that is not about bitches, bragging and bling, and Boomerang will do nicely. What immediately stirs you when enjoying Daara J is its great musical quality – as quoted many times on the net, “In our music, the melody is always the starting point”. It’s obvious that they all speak various languages and have absorbed just as many styles of music on their journeys. What we enjoyed today is a mixture of French & American rap, reggae, roots, soul funk and Cuban music.
3.45 – 4.45 Michael Franti
Casual and comfortable in a singlet, camo 3/4 shorts and bare feet, Michael Franti wanders out on stage as though he’s just come from the beach – and announces that he has just been for a swim, diving through a crystal clear wave and realising that he’s in BYRON BAY!!
At over 6ft tall, this charismatic caramel man with waist-long dreadlocks oozes a relaxed confidence that is ultimately engaging. Franti’s words weave through the audience like a musical charm; all are at the mercy of his message.
A quick guitar change to one with the correct tuning and the set kicks off with “North & South” then straight into “Yes I Will’” which gets the many, many disciples of Michael clapping and dancing. “Oh My God” mellows the tempo but does not quell the tide of reverence.
Regaling the regrettable state of the world and its politics, Franti shares a private moment of how the next track was born, “Tell Me Lies”. Pausing for the bridge, he invites the crowd to provide the whistle – the sound that emits from the ocean of faces nearly deafening those of us above them. Franti then beatboxes for a little bit, launches a Rasta shout out then torpedos the track into a reggae extension of the same track.
Welcoming Batacuda Sound Machine’s Traxedos saxophonist on stage to lend support to “Sometimes”, all are more than pleased when the rhymes forming signature track “Love is… what I got” start and the excitement in the crowd reaches fever pitch.
Standing stage left I’m talking to an older gentleman who has the same old Kodak digital camera as the one I own in his hands. I can tell that he’s reluctant to use it and on enquiring he tells me that it’s not his and that he isn’t interested in capturing only Franti, but moreso the pale lean white young gentleman waiting on stage right with a guitar over his shoulder. I ask who he is and the man proudly flips his backstage pass to show me the name “Kieran Murphy”. Oh really, I say, and then enquire as to whether this man is in fact Kieran’s father. Yes, he replies with a massive smile on his face. After a welcoming speech from Franti that would make anyone blush with pride, Kieran walks out on stage and proves that not only is he worth seeing more than once at this festival, but also why he has won the National Fingerstyle award for his dexterity and musicianship.
Franti tries to finish the set with an extended, all friends on stage, version of “Everyone Deserves Music” but is then called for an encore, which is duly permitted by the sound crew and the music that everyone is grateful for starts again to rapturous applause.
INTERLUDE
After a couple of quiet beers and a “gourmet” hot dog (read: it had tomato relish & cheese added. Unlike Falls, “gourmet” at Blues does not refer to “with cabbage” thankfully) at the media tent, I wander around a bit, checking out the market stalls, other food vans and troupes of non-musical artisans, thespians and general creative vagabonds selling their wares and plying their trade throughout the festival grounds.
Amidst a hanging garden of hemp garments, beads and dancing streamers, I heard the Mojo stage start up again and the entrancing satin of India.Arie’s voice cajoled me back to my vantage point stage left.
5.15 – 6.30 India.Arie
Soul sister with a guitar, India reminds of Mechelle Ndegeocello (whom I LOVE btw). The backing singers are of the quality you always wanted to see, but haven’t until now, and the band is extremely tight in a funked-out relaxed way. Big sound fills the tent, with an older organ permeating through and lending a gospel sensibility. India’s lyricism, beauty and drive sends a message that initiates a will to be a stronger, prouder, better woman. What more could you ask for?
7.00 – 8.15 Pete Murray
The brass section all file past as the much anticipatory crowd make more and more noise while some – or many – disregard the massive screen telling them not to smoke in the tent. Some even start to chant “Pete, Pete, Pete!”. Turn up, plug in, tune up, play a song. The tent long ago burst its metaphorical sides. Another late starter @ 7.15 the cowboy-shirted-one who we’ve all been waiting for arrives @ 7.20pm.
Bathed in luminescent lavender Pete asks for his mic to be turned up as the double bass sets up next to him. At first I couldn’t tell if the purple haze was the illicit smoke or the actual lighting; as the colour changed I soon worked out that it was the lights. The mood is dark and changes to shades of molten lava – Pete’s singles are definite high points in the set and there are many people singing along to “Your Beautiful”, “Freedom” and “Remedy”. While very good at what he does and the sound is clear, Pete delivers each track in the same tone and without much gusto, providing a very lack lustre performance compared the last time I saw him at Splendour in the Grass.
8.45 – 10 pm Jamie Cullum
Cover of Jeff Buckley’s “Lover you should have come over” was a welcome addition to the set. All of the other songs were from his “twentysomething” album. Not a highlight, competent but better suited to a smaller more intimate venue.
10.30 – 11.45 David Gray (finished well after midnight)
As I made my way back to the Mojo Stage after a short break to catch my breath and tab my watering eyes (an annoyance that started whilst waiting in the line for the toilet while they were being emptied) I passed a number of people already leaving the festival grounds and thought it rather odd. Remembering just how good he was at Festival Hall in 2003, I even try to persuade some people to turn back and check him out as I have been looking forward to seeing David Gray all day.
After the swiftest set up of the day, Gray follows his band out onto the stage. Well styled in a gunmetal suit, his head bobs like a marionette whose strings have been let loose, his signature head flick preceding his effervescent hello to the audience
The stage mis en scene is as per the Festival Hall gig with the drummer stage left instead of behind, and why not, he’s one of the most entertaining drummers I’ve seen. Gray is headbanging and leaping across the stage – showing that, unlike a comment from one of the people I tried to turn-around he’s definitely not “another melancholy guitar man”.
“Sail Away” brings more people up onto the scaffolds on stage left – the most populated it’s been all day. In full flight, bathed in blue he calls… join me… sail away with me honey… he calls again (I want to go…)
When he sits at the piano he proves again he’s not another melancholy guitar man… The full sound delivers the crispest vocals of the night as the bass player makes sweet love to his electric double bass. The frenetic drummer’s personality is as loud as his flamboyant flowery shirt and he doesn’t need to say a word to convey it – pure entertainment… ADHD using plastic brushes… first fluorescent pink and then fluorescent green. Gray moves from piano to bass with a soaring vocal range, yearning, almost chest constricting in it’s emotion.
“My Oh My” wails out the pain of confusion the song is conveying. After 3 songs the photographers pile up on stage left wanting to watch the rest of the show. Gray’s left leg beats out the time against the cross of the seat he sits so straight and elegantly on in front of the piano. The songs from White Ladder are obviously the drawcard as the crowd nearly drowns Gray out as they sing along.
The Gray roadcrew and sound guys are obviously very professional and organised – the best I’ve seen thus far, the band started on time without issue, regardless of the time that Jamie Cullum’s set finished (about 15 mins after it was scheduled due to time delay on set ups from previous bands). DG is putting his heart and soul into this performance… with his left leg still tapping on the cross bar.
For a moment Gray looks as though he is out on the stage all by himself, the clouds of light shield the rest of the band…
With a hint of the intro riff the crowd surges and roars, so Gray stops and asks “Are you ready?! The roar that ensues is close to deafening - and so, under one beam of light, “Please forgive me” starts. The beam of light widens to greet the cellist and as he sings the words “I’ve got half a mind to scream out loud” the audience puts paid to that thought by lifting the roof with noise. As the song reaches its usual ending the crowd starts to clap along. The claps increase in speed… faster and faster…
Dave revels in the crowd participation and eggs them on jumping up off his seat with a massive smile splitting his face, arms in the air he claps with them. Meanwhile the band ups the tempo accordingly adding beats that turn the ballad into a thumping dance track! The energy in the tent threatens to rip holes in the roof! Some may call such displays self-indulgent, but nay, this was simply magnificent musicianship from the backing band, they melded the styles seamlessly, the crowd undulating and bouncing until the band slowed and David again lightly fingered the last notes of the riff. It was so good I could have cried…
The set finished with “Shine”, “Silver Lining” and lastly, but not leastly “Let go of your heart”.
With that, I made my way back to The Beast wearing a smile that turned a number of heads. I woke Lucien, hopped in the cab and happily talked about the day all the way to the lookout at Lennox where I happily passed out.
SATURDAY
Before the bands start I join my friends “The Fields” for their debut busking performance outside the main entrance to the festival. Runners up in the Byron Blues Busker Competition, they had their choice of times to play just outside the event, the second place takers were invited to busk inside the festival and the winners were given a 40 min set on the APRA stage on Monday afternoon.
12.00 – 12.45 The Hands
Brothers with duelling organs, The Hands have a somewhat gospel funk vibe. There’s a lot of wah on the Moog and the bass as well… another act on the bill with a deep bass funk vibe alla Mechelle Ndegeocello – these guys even extend the parallel to the lyrics – “act my age, not my shoe size”... also, once again, another band that would be more influential in a smaller venue. For a couple of the tracks it’s 1978 again; if the voices were higher pitched they would rival the Bee Gee’s. Lachlan’s song has much deeper funk on the bass and isn’t so much reminiscent of the intro to The Starland Vocal Band’s “Afternoon Delight”.
12.00 – 12.45 Cornerstone Roots
Turning up a bit late into the set I am determined just to dance and enjoy this band without taking any notes. I wander down to the front of the sparse crowd, drop my bag and commence gyrating along with the bass driven reggae from NZ. Thoroughly enjoying the vibe I turn to smile at the tall guy my peripheral vision catches dancing next to me and who is it? None other than Michael Franti. Realising he is just trying to enjoy the festival like anyone else, I don’t make any attempts to get past his voracious female minder (many are stopped in their tracks and summarily turned away) and say much more than “hello, great show last night, enjoy the festival”. My media wristband has given me away and made Ms Minder warn the Artist of my status. Regardless, Franti allays her concerns and rewards my respect with a smile, sincere thanks and an indication that he is about to get up on stage. What follows is the best Franti experience I have at the festival, and as you read on, you will note there are a few… casually wandering to the front mic and giving the lead singer a hug, Franti launches into the longest most engaging and entertaining stream of social-conscience freestyling delivered before and since during the festival.
1 – 2 pm Martha Wainright
Martha’s softly spoken voice belies the lungs in that chest! A mixture of Chrissy Hyne & Stevie Nicks with country folk ballad sensibility.. lilting, crying, pleading, rasping… A random male punter cries out “I love you!” which is misheard by Ms Wainright, “what did you say?” she asks, “love u? fuck u? love u!... fuck u 2 baby.”
Layered melodic guitar work; a voice that soars and hits eardrum rattling pitch sweeter and stickier than molasses but with the refinement of a fine botrytis.
1.30 – 2.15pm Ash Grunwald
Notes as scripted in my little brown book – Dance dance dance – takes notes later!
I always enjoy seeing Ash as he is a master of audience engagement, however on this Saturday afternoon he’s not anywhere near being as pumped as he was at Falls. Maybe it’s not so fresh the 2nd time around after a Friday night at a festival. Plus, the surf was good this morning so maybe he’s a little bummed about missing some choice sets or is tired from catching a fair few of them. Rasta the percussionist – what a hottie and very talented.
Ash ably performs all of the standard tracks he serves up at each of his gigs, with a solo vocal song being a definitely highlight. For his festival finale Ash promises to play Dolphin Song which gets the crowd involved and keeps them happy.
2.15 – 3.15 pm Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings
Oh yeah, now this is a show. Funky soul @ its best – I challenge anyone to not be able to groove to this shit all day. It’s a REAL SHOW. Hailing from Georgia, these tunes are reminiscent of what you’d hear on a Tarrantino movie… smooth sounds of the whucka whucka 70’s. Sharon is an oestrogen-fuelled James Brown with just as much charisma and stage presence but with the booty and sass to match.
BREAK
... and didn’t I need one, traversing from stage to stage, a scriptive nomad, ploughing through the smelly, mud-caked crowd, narrowly missing several inebriated Neanderthals tripping over seated Septuagenarians.
4 – 5pm Donovan Frankenreiter
There are many many disciples of Donovan here late in the evening. Opening with “On My Mind” I’m reminded of early Lenny Kravitz croonings and Jack Johnson guitar. When I was young I squirted Domestos all over a pair of jeans to make them look patchy in a bleach-spray way and I think Donovan must have picked them up in an op shop somewhere because that’s what he was wearing… and as the pubba public will attest to – as I always say FEDORAs R COOL.
Michael Franti proves to be a set slut and walks out into the middle of yet another act’s performance to rapturous applause. “It doesn’t matter to me” heralds freestylin’ from Franti again… hello hello, bonjour bonjour, ola ola, konnichiwa konnichiwa AGAIN but we love it because he voices a social conscience, takes on “the man” in his lyricism… and is a really nice guy.
Like a slow comfortable screw on a hot humid summer afternoon… Donovan plays the black and white Les Paul that I’ve always wanted. It’s good to get some real electric folk funk rock solo work from that black beauty. I’m disappointed as there is no introduction of the band members who are simply stellar. Some of the drumming a bit sloppy on “Baby” considering it’s very much the sing-a-long song of the set.
3.45 – 5.15pm New Orleans Band Aid
Team a big voiced big lady with guys in MASSIVE costumes that are a cross between Las Vegas showgirls and American Indian medicine man costumes and you’ve got New Orleans Band Aid. It’s a mish mash of artists from Nuorlins – and has that distinctive sound. American jazz / blues folk sure know how to entertain the masses, it’s not just playing a few songs for a crowd, it’s engaging people and involving them… talking about things and being on the same level.
4.15 – 5.15pm Harry Manx
Steel slide guitar accompanied by an electronic harp (harmonica) and jazz styled drums. Darker raw roots music the electronic harmonica has a great sound, almost like a Stratocaster with heaps of gain coming through the amp.
5.30 – 6.30 pm Xavier Rudd
I’ve seen this man many times before and he never disappoints. The tent is at overcapacity once again. St John’s scan the crowd from our stellar vantage point stage left. The smell of excrement from the mud on my shoes is almost comforting after a few days, it lets you know we’re all just animals really. The one-man-band is given an official welcome by local aboriginal folk unleashing an almighty roar from the crowd that is so loud it gives me an instant bout of tinnitus.
As “Won’t understand these things” starts the crowd erupts clapping & dancing like crazy people. The sound is not so clear from stage left. Xavier is as intent on his instruments as he ever is – some don’t apply the same amount of care and diligence ensuring every single note is the right one in the same way X does. It becomes a far more thoughtful and appreciated experience for it. Like a science it is a tested hypothesis or theorem proven true in any circumstance – where the process and ingredients are the same the outcome is also the same, truly magnificent in its magic…
There are some minor issues with the crowd then his signature song “Let me be” starts and all is instantly forgiven. All of the tone deaf people are drowned out by those who can match Xavier’s high “tee hee’s”. The crowd SCREAMS for an encore – it’s pure white noise that exacerbates my tinnitus and doesn’t stop until the house lights are turned up letting the punters know that time waits for no man and nor do the roadies for Sir Bob.
7 – 8.15 pm Sir Bob Geldoff
None of the published playing times include “Sir” but, by golly, he is stately in his dark suit and collared shirt regardless of his dishevelled DRB hair.
Flashes come from everywhere as he walks out on stage; it’s almost blinding. It has been made clear to the media photographers that Sir Bob is allowing only two songs for shooting and no flash is to be used – this doesn’t stop the crowd of course. As hoped, Sir Bob starts with “I Don’t Mind”. The violinist is very obviously not happy as the drums crash along with a jig of a sea shanty as he can’t hear himself through the foldbacks. Sir Bob moves to the very front of the stage, giving the pit the best chance for shots by standing away from the microphone stand. He keeps motioning to the sound guy to turn him up, but the sound engineer isn’t watching him, he’s busy trying to get the violinist’s fold backs to work properly and the volume to the correct level… the tempo increases – no time for laggin’.
Sir Bob’s guitar is nowhere near loud enough and he is constantly looking toward the mixing desk asking “what are you doing?” The violinist is getting way pissed off now. I’m not sure if it’s still the fold back or what but it’s not belting out like Sir Bob would need on this track. At the end of the song the violinist stops to check the equipment to make sure it’s not the connections or his amplifiers that are creating the problem.
Sir Bob plays a couple of new songs and is the first artist to stop and introduce his entire band to everyone. There is some feedback coming through the fold backs which is very surprising. Possibly there was a need for the crew to take more time with the soundcheck as they did seem to take a much shorter time than previous acts. In all, it doesn’t detract from Sir Bob’s performance all that much. The 3rd track was a bit dry and the crowd, knowing Sir Bob more for his activism than his music, starts to get a little restless. The fade out on the track exacerbates the feeling that he is losing the audience as there is very limited applause considering the size of the crowd – he has to play “I Don’t Like Mondays” soon.
8.45 – 10 pm Beth Orton
Beth Orton is such an ethereal waif-like figure on stage. If Beth her voice was an instrument it would be a violin, effortlessly moving from top to bottom string and back again, the bow perfectly positioned to capture every nuance of the notes being played with the delicate touch of a masterful musician. Her songs are an anthology of poetry; hymns of the struggle of human relationships.
“Runaway Train” flows effortlessly into a song she started penning when last in Australia “For you.”
Picking up the pace as the sun slides to the other side of the planet, she kicks into “Somebody’s Son” and then stands alone with a guitar as the rest of the band fade into the black periphery. The mark of an artist is them standing alone on stage, singing their hearts out with nothing to accompany them but the guitar they hold in their hands, “Stolen Car” – perfect execution.
10.30 – 11.45 pm – after midnight again - The Cat Empire
Want a party?... Cat Empire… Just add 1.
A festival favourite because they always permeate the atmosphere with a party vibe, The Cat Empire play all of their singles to much applause, dancing and frolicking. Consistent performers, I have to say that their gusto is also a little lacking compared to their show @ Falls at the start of the year. However, a good time is still had by all… until the heavens open up and upon all just as they finish.
PROLOGUE
After the festival I found out that one of my good friends was working just as hard rolling out cables and monitoring sound levels as I was scribbling in the dark and rushing around like a mad thing. He let me know that one of the major downfalls of the Blues Fest set up is the inability for each of the acts to do thorough soundchecks before their set-up time. This explains so much to me and would also explain much to the punters who were restless and complaining about the unprofessionalism of the engineers and road crew. So, people, don’t be too hard on them, they were trying their best – and we were the ones who got to enjoy the results.
As my last addendum, I’d just like to thank the PR manager, Gaynor Crawford, for allowing the collective us (myself, Lucien & FasterLouder) to take a shot (or couple of thousand shots in Lucien’s case) at covering this fabulous festival. We sincerely apologise for the belated posting of our review and photos – a situation beyond our control.
May the music be with you….
Queen Nahs
