Sweetwater 420 Festival.

COVER ALERT: we got some good'ns

beer

The annual festival on Earth Day weekend, or April 20th or 420 if that's your thing- put on by our beloved Sweetwater Brewery, has become something I look forward to every year.  This year I was especially excited for Papa Grows Funk- a Nola standard that's anything but standard, Anders Osborne- swiss born rocker that also calls the Big Easy home, and a new favorite- also from Nola, Honey Island Swamp Band.  Now, understand that none of these artists were headliners.  All three played to smaller crowds on a smaller stage during the middle of the afternoon.  Perfection.. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Also joining the party as headliners, and not anything to be missed: Friday- George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, Saturday- Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears and to close out the weekend on Sunday- Robert Randolph & the Family Band.  Sweetwater knows how to throw a party that's for sure!

Day 1:   Festivities began on a cloudy, the sky's about to crash down kind of Friday.  So, the crowds were thin.  We enjoyed the no beer/portopotty lines while we could.  We knew Saturday was supposed to be beautiful.  Showing up to the funky improv set from another Nola band Earphunk, I was presently surprised.  They were killing it.  The lead guitarist came to be known as white Hendrix(he was wearing a Jimi shirt.)  They had the small crowd rocking with original tunes and some covers. Their sound is a bit like the New Mastersounds, Galactic etc. Funky rocking tunes that make you want to shake your hips and headbang at the same time. Many people were doing just that.  They closed their set with 2 covers that left the crowd wanting more. A quick raunchy version of Dire Straits' "Money for Nothing" & David Bowie's "Fame." Pretty sure they gained a whole set of fans that day.  That sent us over the hill to the second stage to see Papa Grows Funk.

Papa Grows has been around since 2000.  Go hang out on historic Frenchmen Street in New Orleans for a week or two, and you're bound to see them blowing the doors off some place.  Frequenting the Maple Leaf, Tipitina's and the Howlin Wolf and all across the country.  You can tell these guys love what they do.  You can tell they're proud of their music and the city they come from.  If you havent figured it out the city of New Orleans evokes and produces wondrous music that I've come to love more and more since the first time I visited.  Big ol' guy on keys(Papa), a heart thumping bass, blistering saxaphone, the ever important drums and an asian guy (June Yamagishi) on lead guitar that will leave you perplexed.  With songs like Pass It! and Stanky  these guys keep on funking the hell outta wherever they're invited. We were five feet from the edge of the stage and absolutely lovin' it. Who doesn't like a mid afternoon funk session? With cold Sweetwater broos? Yes please.  They covered The Meters' (another Nola funk staple) "Ain't No Use."  I was having a blast.  Kudos on a great set guys ATL loves ya'll. (football rivalries aside) (RISE UP)

On to the next one.  Oh yea, George Clinton and his gaggle of a band are tuning up.  If you've never seen a Parliament show get to it.  It's a helluva good time.  A P-Funk show is like an urban circus.  There's people hanging from the rafters and coming out of nowhere.  And they rock.  Maybe we were far from the stage but it looked like there were 25 people up there.  Among the calamity was a tall skinny man in a white fur suit.  White fur hat and boots and all, no instrument, solely on stage for entertainment.  I think this man was having as much fun as ANY festival goer. They played "Red Hot Mama" a song made one of my favorites by Widespread Panic, originally recorded by Parliament in '74.   The crowd was loving it.  They also played a funky good "Up for the Downstroke"  & of course another song that WSP covers, Maggot Brain.  George is getting up in years and I'm sure their shows back in the day were legendary.  It's awesome he's still kicking after all these years on the Mothership.

Anders melting faces

Day 2:  This is the show I was waiting for.  Anders. Small Stage. Right up front. 'Nuff said.  Clearly the beautiful weather opened the flood gates and Saturday was PACKED.  Had to wait in line for 25 minutes.  Someone said, "you know you can go right in if you don't want a wristband."    "No thanks I'll be drinking many many beers today."  I heard Anders start his set and started to get antsy.  No worries, we got in and I made a B Line to the front.  Saw my buddy Tyler whip his head around looking for us.  We had a solid crew of about 8-10 friends right up front. 'Laissez les bons temps rouler' as they like to say in Nola.  The first time I saw Anders was at Warren Haynes' Christmas Jam.  Instant huge fan at that show which was a once in a lifer--  Anders played an hour and a half set with Warren's bassist and drumz.  So awesome.  As expected Anders & co. freakin' delivered.  He lead us through a blazing set full of raw blues and rock n' roll that rocks you right down to your soul.  His solos are just nuts.  Kinda like Anders, you never know what he's going to do next.  I know he's had drug issues in the past, and I'm pretty sure he's sober now but, unlike many artists, sobriety doesn't affect his music.  He's on fire.  But his solo, just unreal. Raw is the perfect word for it.  I found out he rocks an open tuning set up. He said in an interview "Stuff ringin' all the time, just very sonicly pleasing to me."  His bassist had mid-back length brown hair and a Marlboro 100 just a hangin'.  They really fed off each other. It was awesome.  I couldn't get enough.  And the drummer was a black dude with dark sunglasses that had so much enthusiasm.  He beat those drums to death!  Their energy was just unmatched.  Crazy that three dudes on a small stage can put on such a good show.  I like them even more now than when I saw them in Asheville a few months back.  They played "Ya-Ya" a feel good Anders original we also heard in Asheville.  They covered "Knockin' on Heaven's Door." Perfect. Relevant to my life. They played an Anders original, "Black Tar."  Fortunately I've never been involved with that.  But, shockingly, also relevant in my life.  I had a friend overdose recently, and THANK GOD, I was in the right place at the right time and brought him to the hospital and saved his life. If he reads this, Love you man! Anyway, I remain a HUGE Anders fan and will continue to see his shows whenever possible.  Thanks for a great set guys!

Day 3: Never miss a Sunday show!

We show up mid afternoon. Honey Island Swamp Band is one song into their set.  No line today. Gotta love Sundays at a festival.  We pursue the stage and make our way to the same spot we've been all weekend.  I only recently found out about this band and was extremely excited to see them.  Their style was unique from all the other Nola bands of this weekend.  They play slide-blues and swamp rock.  They use anything and everything as instruments.  The old country saloon style of keys just keeps the tunes rocking along.  We really loved the vibe they put off.  Great musicianship.  Great solos.  A lot of their lyrics seem to come from or are influenced by scripture.  Major cool.  Imagine the Allman Brothers if they were from New Orleans instead of Macon, GA. Slide riffs like these would make Duane turn over in his grave. (in a good way)  Check out Prodigal Son and you'll quickly see what I'm talking about.  These guys kill it.  I really hope they continue making albums. HUGE fan.

Robert Randolph and the Family Band had the stage to close out the awesome weekend.  I've seen them in multiple states (all in the south) They always put on a great show.  Randolph plays the pedal steel.  He learned to play growing up in church.  From Wikipedia: "The instrument is referred to in many African-American Pentecostal churches as Sacred Steel."  He can play the sacred steel all he wants.  He's incredible.

Robert & all the ladies 

As is customary for a RRTFB show, Robert invites the beautiful ladies from the audience up  onto stage for a little dancin'.  If you've never witnessed this, it's quite a site. Roberts starts picking a nasty rockin' blues riff.  Someone says "ZZ Top?" "Close! Shake Your Hips by Slim Harpo- covered by  the Rolling Stones."  Picture this: 50+ ladies jumping around stage while Robert and The Family shred through a song written nearly 50 years ago.  It makes for a great time.  I'll always be happy to see a RRTFB show.

HUGE thanks go out to all those hands that make weekends like this possible. We enjoy it more than ya'll will ever know.  Big thanks to Sweetwater, just another reason they remain my favorite brewery.  #HOMETEAM  See ya'll next year in Candler Park!

Written by: Tyler Addison Davis

Infamous Stringdusters

I've been needing to write for weeks.  Due to an onslaught of unfortunate circumstances one after the other I have failed to do so.  Today, I surmount that obstacle simply for the fact that I am on the verge of spontaneously combusting.  Both my faith in the Lord and love for raw, in-your-face live music have only grown stronger in the past 2 months.  As much as I complain about the traffic and sheer overcrowding of Atlanta, living here has provided me with so many wonderful opportunities to enjoy the sounds that soothe the ear and the mind.  Typically, in the past 2 months, its been all about  BLUEGRASS.  The music of Appalachia. The weapons of choice: the fiddle, five string banjo, mandolin, dobro, guitar and upright bass.  An original of American music.  Don't get me wrong, the blues is America's music, and Mississippi is the birthplace.   To that I have no objection, (it'd be hard to after going to school a short drive from Robert Johnson's famous [or infamous] crossroads.)  But Bluegrass was born in the Appalachians, reinforced and supported by the hymnals across the bible belt and continue to flow today throughout the country wherever an ear seeks a good ole fiddlin'.  I tweeted about seeing "the big 3" recently.  My residence in Atlanta has allowed me to see these smokin' hot bands reigning from Boston, Colorado and Kalamazoo, Michigan. They are 'The Infamous Stringdusters' (seen here at the Pink Garter in Jackson, WY)

this picture does no justice

The other 2 are 'Yonder Mountain String Band' (@The Tabernacle)   & last but definitely not least 'Greensky Bluegrass' (@Smith's Olde Bar)
More to come on YMSB & GSBG later 





Seeing the 'Dusters in Jackson was awesome, it set the stage and I knew what I was in for when I headed to Terminal West.
Listening to the Atlanta show right now via their website, I'm about to get up and do a jig.  They just have this crisp, resonating sound that makes you want to shake your body wildly until you burst at the seams.  The Dobro is the game changer.  It makes the crunchiest, bluesiest acoustic slide-guitar tone one could imagine.  To me, it perfectly bridges together the thumping bass line, the quick-picking of the banjo and the steady strum of the mandolin.  It comes together in perfect harmony and evokes a primal hoot-n-holler, all the while dancing away a bad memory or cheers'ing to better ones.  The crowd was a little stiff at the beginning of the first set.  I thought to myself, "Certainly the bass thumpers and young dubstep kids aren't gonna like these things with strings called instruments."  ICYMI Terminal West has an affinity for the "electronic music" popular of the day. Not my scene really.  That's why I was glad to see a stringband take their plunge into the thriving music scene at this great venue.  They played two steamrollin' sets containing several of my favorite tunes.  "Gettin Down the Road" "Steam-Powered Aeroplane" "Fork in the Road." One of my favorite parts of the entire show was a song in set 2. "Fire" A wahwah pedal induced jam that at times sounded like a more badass acoustic Phish song (much like YMSB's cover of 'Sand')  The song that followed was slow and drawn out in a good way.  "High on a mountain top, winds blowin' free, thinking about the days that used to be."  Sounding like a siren straight from Oh, Brother Where art Thou.  BTW the craft beers (in cans) were flowing like water at this point.  For me, this is all part of the bluegrass experience.  Great beer, great people, great music, this is what it's all about. They absolutely crush each and every song.  Individually, they are masters of their instrument. Collectively, they unite to bring a sound that's beauty can only be described or appreciated by using your ears, and embracing that sound we call music.  And finally, they played "He's Gone"
How ridiculously ironic.  Not only is it one of my favorite Grateful Dead tunes, but just having lost a VERY close friend of mine, this situation just made me close my eyes, look the sky, and say "thank you Lord."  Thank you for letting me live one more day on this Earth, Thank you for letting me be able to lift my spirits through YOU, AND through this wonderful music. Also, I said thank you to Nick.  I'm sure you had SOMETHING to do with this buddy.   "Nothin' left to do but SMILE SMILE SMILE."

So we listened, we sang, we grinned, we danced, we cried. It was freaking awesome.  Thank you to the Stringdusters.  I happily await our next meeting fellas.

I leave you with a link to the Stringdusters recording "He's Gone" Infamous Stringdusters - He's Gone

and another: Gettin' Down the Road

For Our Buddy, Nick Ward - A True Inspiration

He's one of the #GoodPeople

I'm writing this not in remembrance of Nick, BECAUSE THE GUY IS STILL FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE IN SAVANNAH.  I started this to share laughter, joy, tears, good times we had and all the other emotions surrounding Nick's life.  He shared these emotions with each and every one of us in his own way.  Nick is a beacon of hope and good faith in a world where many have forgotten the way of the Lord.

Nick is a family guy.  He loves his family, and they love him back.  Family doesn't just mean kin or blood.  Family means those you associate with, your crew.  Everywhere Nick and I have crossed paths, he's always had a crew with him.  Good guys and girls coming together probably because they share the same passion for life that Nick does.  Nick is an all around good  guy.  He'd jump at the chance help out, give a hand and wasn't afraid to be a great friend. He touched my life as I'm sure he's touched all of ya'lls.  Let's keep praying and stay strong for our buddy.  LET'S HELP PULL HIM THROUGH THIS.  Please remember to pray for Jimmy, Cynthia, Drew and the rest of the family while they pass these difficult times. Keep Fighting Buddy.

"And it's real

Believe what I say

Just one thing that I gotta say

I need a miracle very day"     ~ The Grateful Dead

Nick loves music.  He loves playing it, head-banging to it, traveling mind blowing distances to see it played live.  Music has been one thing Nick and I connected on, became friends around and still share a passion for.  That being said, I collected some song lyrics.  They remind me of Nick and his current battle for life. For me, these lyrics are a way to remember great times we shared, and to look forward to the future with hope and faith.  It's a collection of lyrics from Nick's favorite band; Widespread Panic.  Also the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan and others.  Please enjoy them as much as we do.  Feel free to comment, add more lyrics or share a story about Nick of your own.

Widespread Panic:
"Old days come and go too soon

Old friends, heroes, lifetimes

Don't let a single memory ever fade away"  ::: Heroes

"May your family share laughter

Your songs always play

May your wishes come true

Even those left unprayed

Hand on my shoulder

Gentle cloud on the hill

May your heart's doors be open

Forever and ever, may your glass be filled"  :::May Your Glass Be Filled

"Cheers, to your friends so near

High, your dreams so clear

Raise another glass to the dreams so near"  ::: Space Wrangler

"The sun came out the other day

Through those dusty clouds

And in my mind I was a child

And it felt good!"                                      ::: Ain't Life Grand

"Travelin' Light, and you can catch the wind

Travelin' Light, better let your mind pretend

Get on down to paradise

Maybe once, now maybe twice

Travelin' Light, is the only way to fly"      ::: Travelin' Light

Grateful Dead

"Wake now discover that you are the song that the morning brings"

:::The Eyes of the World

"One way or another

This darkness has got to give"

:::New Speedway Boogie

"Keep on dancing through to daylight"

:::The Music Never Stopped

Jack White

                  Last Tuesday night, it was the eve of a show that wasn't on my radar, as much as I hate to admit it. Had it not been for someone's granny passing away,(prayers go out to that family) I would have just gone on with my life without looking back never knowing what had passed. Long story short, a buddy of mine had an extra ticket. TO JACK WHITE. AT THE FOX. “Sure maybe I can pencil that in to my extremely busy Tuesday night schedule.” Psshh. “I'm there,” was my response. We sat across from the fabulous Fox Theatre with two sultry young ladies, both friends of his, and had a light dinner while we awaited the auditory face-melting tunes we had come to hear. We finished our entrees and j-walked across Peachtree. If you've never been to the Fox, you're missing out. Its ancient and has hosted some of the greats. It has some of the best acoustics in the universe. But, really the interior of the place is breath-taking. The ceiling is concave in shape and painted this midnight blue with ominous lighting all around to make it look like the night sky. Awesome. Seen many shows at the Fox in my day and knew this one would never be forgotten. I knew only bits & pieces about Jack White from the days of 'Seven Nation Army'. Also from the days of my buddy Scott Ross blaring 'The Raconteurs' (who are freaking awesome) in kitchens across the Square in beautiful Oxford, MS. 

a sea of blue

The stage and lighting scheme kept with the eery blue “night sky.” The scene was set and the lights went down as we scooted to our seats with 2 beers a piece. The band poured onto stage. Shouts of joy and hoots n' hollers filled the crowded air. From what I could see, Jack White was wearing some weathered tuxedo like getup, probably white but doused in ocean blue from the lights. Also from what I could see, he was the only dude on stage. A whole band made up of Sheila's! They didn't come to mess around either. The drummer, God bless her soul, might have been the daughter of late John Henry Bonham (Led Zeppelin for you non music-freaks). The drummer keeps the beat, keeps things rolling and on schedule for the rest of the band. Well this girl made the experience of the whole show. They have her placed stage right. (left for the audience) Up in the front. It was like she was the engineer of the steam locomotive pulling the rest of the freight train down the track. Truly great rhythm and style. Next to her, (they formed a semi circle towards the back of the stage), was a stand up bassist. Amplified of course but just the thing to go with their style of music. To her left, another good looking lady, playing pedal steel. Also perfect for this old-school country blues rock vibe they have going. On around to the other side of the circle was a tambourine playing, picture taking, funky 60s/70s dancing do-it-all type of girl that moved around the stage more than a nervous comedian. Next to her was the backup singer, a black girl with a perfectly smooth voice accompanied by the ability to belt out lyrics in great contrast to Jack White's raspy vocals. Finally to her left, was the pianist. Both traditional piano, and keyboard in use. Rotating front and back like a pilot of the Millennium Falcon. Ultimately, the middle of the semi circle is punctuated with the man himself. Rocking back and forth to tunes like “Freedom at 21,” and “Sixteen Saltines.” Bluesy rocking numbers that will make your head spin, or like me, rock back and forth with a shit-eating grin plastered across your mug.

After a long first set, many great tunes and a non-stop, non-sit down type of pace the band took a short break. We ran to the bar to grab a last call Bronson. We were the last two to get served. Maybe overserved. We made it back to our seats and awaited the encore. At the end of the previous set I noticed a roadie bringing on stage and plugging in the ever famous resonator (Jack's.) It's a guitar that was developed by musicians in the 20's to be louder than traditional acoustic guitars They ofcourse lost some popularity by the age of amplification. However, blues and bluegrass (which gave rise to country) took a liking to resonators and they're still around today. Anyway, getting off topic. I knew Jack White played a resonator, especially when he would play “Seven Nation Army.” A song that topped the charts in 2003 from White's original band with sister, Meg, The White Stripes. Long story short I called the encore and must give credit where it's due to Scott Ross that alluded me to it. 

 As the bass drum became ever more frequent, we knew this was it. The encore, the climax , the finale. White and company blasted into fret-jumping power jam that rocks your face off. With the crushing blows of chick # 1's drum patterns and Jack White's sinfully good sounding resonator, they tore the roof off the place and left everyone in awe, with smiles all around and a standing ovation from the fabulous fans at the Fox Theatre. What a way to spend a Tuesday night in Atlanta.   I leave you with a video of that encore (Not actually from the Fox, but you'll get the idea.)   Don't Forget the Link 

Jack White - Seven Nation Army Encore (Catch Hell Blues Intro)

A weekend in Blue Ridge.

North.  Away from civilization.  Away from the understated "hustle and bustle" of Atlanta's crowded infrastructure. “Sprint and Dent” is more like it. After a long work week nothing takes your head out of your bosses ass like a trip to the mountains. Ok, it’s hard to consider N. Georgia as ‘mountains’ after living in Jackson, but nonetheless, it ain’t the city. 

We climb in Mitch's 80's model Toyota Landcruiser, sans doors and hard top. Every spare inch is loaded down with fly rods, tackle, a 22, a gas can, a tow rope, 2 cases of Budweiser, my dog Leena and 3 eager gentlemen, myself included. We burned up the highway at the screaming top speed of 61 mph and headed into the hills North of Atlanta in search of something more simple.  After an hour and a half trip up I-575 we braved the Walmart in Ellijay, GA to get something to feast on, not knowing what kind of sustenance the cabin had awaiting us. Frozen pizza would be the 

easiest, most economical choice for our supper, considering the constraints of a mountain town and limited appliances at Granny’s cabin. Ellijay is just far enough out of the city to see some ‘necks out on a Friday night trip to Walmart, which was packed. We went down some windy mountain country roads and the pavement finally ended. Our turn down into a nearly washed out gravel driveway opened into a big yard. ‘A River Runs Through It’ came to mind simply because a river did run through it, the front yard. Upon our arrival, Mitch cut the lights and we were soon enveloped in complete darkness. Not city darkness with that orange haze that hangs over a populated area seen from afar. I mean the absence of all color. We creeped up under the porch and found the switch box. It worked. We built a fire and proceeded to drink whiskey and talk about man stuff. With so much entertainment I’m surprised the night ended as quickly as it did, or maybe we just ran out of whiskey.

When dawn broke, no I’m kidding. At about 10 we awoke to the best feeling weather outside I’d felt since leaving Jackson. I could see my breath. “Fall is officially here boys.” We explored the fridge the night before, and thawed out some sausages and cooked them up with some fried eggs for breakfast. Upon taking a dip in the cool mountain water, we discovered what shrinkage really meant. Mitch’s crazy ass even put on some swimteam goggles circa ’98 and did some “snorkeling.” Beautiful clear icy cold water running over our toes, there’s not quite a better feeling in the world. After a few Bud Heavy's and unloading a couple of clips from the 22 (target shooting using the first emptied Bud) we decided to take a 4-wheeler ride. My big ass, and Mitch and Griffin on the front and back of a tiny little Honda Foreman, you’ve never seen such a site. We cruised about 2 and a half miles to where the woods break into pasture land. Beautiful views of the Blueridge Mountain range. We could see clear into the next state. Leena chased us the entire way there, and with those tiny little legs she may not have made it back. Griffin scooped her up and we were on our way.

Back to the cabin. We popped a few more beers and watched mystified as Mitch began to tie some of his own flies. If you’ve never witnessed this, it’s quite interesting. Again, it made me mad I didn’t get a chance to fish while living in Jackson. But that’s beside the point. An array of peacock feathers and tiny black fluffs of thread all spun together on a tiny hook. Really an artisan perfecting his craft. Made me feel real American. Thank God for Mitch. After he tied a few we took to the creek to try and catch some trout (it’s pretty late in the season now.) We set off to a few honey holes and Mitch showed us where to cast, and where the trout would be hangin’ out. Quite a few more elements to concentrate on in fly fishing. Bass fishing in a lake, well you got your pole and your bobber and your beer and life is good. Fly fishing in a creek you got trees and rocks and other people and all kinds of good stuff to snag your hook on and lose your lure. I caught the first one. Mitch said it was a creek bass, not a trout. A real monster too. I could have fileted that sucker right there and had it on a salad or wrapped over some sticky rice if sushi is your forte. It felt good to get something on the line. It was an overcast day, drizzling rain from time to time. Perfect fishing weather, not too hot. Mitch landed the second, another creek bass. After a long hard thought, or maybe just an idea, we decided to go into town for dinner. Oh, and to find somewhere to watch Ga-Missouri. And the faint chance that we could find the Ole Miss game somewhere. Down the country roads, imminent death looms 2 feet to our right and left, we charged on in search of pizza.  We found it. And we found the Ole Miss game on TV eventually. In a small watering hole in downtown Blueridge, some german Beer Garten scribbled on a sign with two wooden blackbear carvings standing guard at the door. They filled our bellies with good cold flowing IPA kegbeer while the owner from Minnesottttta proceeded to get hammered on Chardonnay while entertaining his customers. After a few too many, we head on back up the road to camp. We fished the next morning and caught a few more each. We let them all go in the hopes they'd keep growing and have some babies and re-populate this fertile clearwater creek for next summer. All in all is was a great relaxing bros weekend. We packed up the cruiser and rolled back south to Atlanta. Speakers blaring. Back to reality.  

Nawlins

I shall write more frequently per your request, Tommy Douglas.

God bless I want to move here.  Everybody's cool as can be and so welcoming.  I sat next to this lady at the Tim McGraw/Kenny Chesney concert (we won free tickets at the bar last night) and she just kept saying, "Welcome to our city."  Over and over.  She was overjoyed to welcome us and seemed proud we'd chosen her esteemed city.  After finding out I was from Atlanta, and inherently a Falcons fan, she didn't hesitate to tell me she'd rather chop off both her arms than lose to the Falcons.  She said, "Just don't tell anyone that's where your from."  Seemed appropriate since we were in the superdome, the Saints home turf.  The city has such a buzz about it and seems to be busting at the seems with cool people doing even cooler shit.  I can't talk about the city pre-Katrina, because I never witnessed it.  People lost everything, lives included.  Nawlins will never be the same.  But that's part of the thriving spirit that makes me want to be a part of it.  There's such a sense of pride within the population here that it makes me want to just immerse myself and get lost in it.  Get to know everyone I can, regardless of where they're from, who they are, or what they're doing.  Sure it can be sketchy, but just keep an eye over my shoulder, look out for the ladies, and everything should run smoothly.  As with many places I've been, I've come to find out it's all about who you know.  Doesn't matter if you're in Atlanta or Oxford or Wilson, WY or here in Nawlins, meet as many people as possible and keep up with those acquaintances and it will get you places before you know it.  After spending nearly 10 days in the Big Easy, I've found it to be Big and Easy.  People I've seen at Panic shows, met in the Grove, at a wedding, or for example my neighbor at the concert.  These connections won't happen unless you get out there and make them happen.  As I wrote in an email today, I sparked my interest/love for live music and a hoppin' scene and a cold brew in Oxford, and every time I visited Nawlins, it stoked that fire.  I always talked about living here, Missy said she couldn't do it, would be too scared.  My how the tables have turned.  Here she is, living on the Miss'ippi River bend with nothing but good times and good people on the horizon.  I can't help but want to become an Orleanian.  Maybe it's fate.  Maybe I drank too many whiskeys tonight.  All I know is I can't wait to live amongst this rare breed of characters that roam the streets on their bikes and scooters, just livin' and rockin' it.  Take notice.  This is why the South is so awesome.  Nola don't care what you think, and they're having a damn good time doing it.  I leave you with this.  Something only the soul and funk of this place could produce:: The Meters ::: Fire On The Bayou
might as well throw this one in there Just Kissed My Baby

til' next time

td

Bonnaroo 2012

home sweet home

ROO CREW

 the ROO

A music festival with 80,000+ people, in Tennessee, in June?  I'll pass.  That's what I used to say when the idea of Bonaroo came up.  I had been to Wakarusa a few years prior.  While that is still a relatively large gathering of people, 25 maybe 30,000 in the cool Ozarks in Arkansas.  It's not almost 100k sweaty dirty people in field with no shade in sight.  There you have it, Bonnaroo described.  Oh, did I forget to mention that thousands of people come to break with reality and let it all hang out for a weekend down on some ol' Tennessee farmland.  A decision was made within our ranks to rent, travel and live in an RV for the weekend.  Never undertaken something such as this, but after seeing the 35 foot monster, I decided we'd be alright.  Of course, I was elected to drive this white beast to the fairgrounds from west of 

Birmingham.  Our trip began like any other, except I was captaining a 35 foot house on wheels complete with a fridge, stove top and crapper.  The drive began and at first the RV seemed a bit sketchy.  "Let's just get through this traffic," Missy says.  Fortunately, we had Ana Lampton and Griffin Smith following close behind in the truck.  Each RV is allowed one companion vehicle.  When the call came to "Pull over, I think ya'll have a flat," I knew it was too good to be true.  A weekend of fun, freedom, and music beginning on Thursday afternoon suddenly took a turn to negative town.  We pulled off the interstate in Warrior, AL into thank goodness what was a large enough service station to accomodate us and this great white RV.  I crawl up under the vehicle on the hot pavement to discover the inner tire on the right side had been successfully blown to shreds.  Great! Now what?  We call the office of El Monte RV rentals but they've been closed for 45 minutes by now.  Here we are, in the middle of Alabama, in a huge RV with a blown tire.  Some local bikers took a look and said, "yea, ya'll ain't gettin' far with that."  I decided to call the number painted across the back of the vehicle.  Finally, we got hooked up with a wrecker service that would come help us out.  Thank God the RV had a spare underneath it.  Some good ol' boys got there after about an hour and a half.  2 guys, probably not older than 18 fixed her up real nice for us, and it only cost 100 bucks.  After the fiasco we hit the road hard and kept truckin' all the way to Manchester.  We pulled in at about 1:30 at night, thinking we'd go right through the gates.  Griff had since switched to be my co-pilot.  So we have two middle aged dudes with beards in an RV at 1:30.. A sheriff deputy motioned us to go ahead and pull towards him, away from all the other lines.  The other lines that were manned by members of WET.  The Work Exchange Team.  Also known as volunteers that work to pay for their tickets.  Deputy Dog approached my window.  "Alright boys this here is how Bonnaroo works.  We're going to search your vehicle no matter what.  We're looking for drugs, fireworks, weapons, etc.  We'll give you a chance to tell us if you have anything illegal in the vehicle, and if its not a big deal, we'll let you go with a citation.  So what ya'll got in here?"  I said, "nothing sir, we're clean as a whistle."  I then was directed to stand infront of the RV like a damn criminal while 6 sheriff's deputies proceeded to enter the RV and rifle through it like we were suspected terrorists.  The most unnecessary, invasive, violating thing I've ever been through.  They ripped through our backpacks, undid hammocks, threw clothes on the ground, opened prescription medicine, smelled Nalgene bottles, and even put a lady sheriff on the vehicle to tear through the girls' bags.  It was quite ridiculous.  After disrespecting all of our belongings, they were displeased that they didn't find 1,000 lbs of marijuana or any Weapons of Mass Destruction, or roman candles, or bath salts.  I just stood with a huge smile on my face.  As he drew a star on the windshield, I asked, "is that our star of approval?" Deputy Dog responded with, "Have a good Bonnaroo."  HA.  We then pulled through the gates and received our wristbands for the weekend.  The volunteers said, "Ya'll are the first guys we've seen not get a citation for drugs."  High Five!  Upon entering we rolled into our campsite for the weekend, a giant field filled with other RVs of all shapes and sizes.  Dingy pop-up campers next to $300,000 tailgating monsters.  Friday morning came and the heat started early, about 7 a.m.   The thing I love about festivals is the camping.  You get to see a wide array of people from as far as New York to upstate Washington.  Dreads and deadheads and weirdos and people that just like to have a good time.  And surprisingly a lot of good looking ladies.  Some with armpit hair, but hey who am I to judge.  The first day of music was great.  The bands play on a schedule, but that's the other thing I like about a festival, you can do whatever you want.  Go see a band, go drink a beer, sit in a field, buy something, jam out, sleep, lay in a hammock, meet new people.  It's great.  We got to see The Infamous Stringdusters on Friday.  Saw them in Jackson, WY at the Pink Garter this winter.  Great live show presence.  They love to get the audience going.  Bluegrass. Banjos in your face.  I loved it.  The main stage played host to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings.  Another favorite since seeing them at Double Decker in Oxford a few years ago.  Mostly soulful funky jams.  Great stuff.  Next up was quite unexpected.  But being from Atlanta I had to go see Ludacris at 4pm.  It was probably the wildest show of the weekend.  Never did I think I would see 40,000 people raging to "What's your Fantasy."  It was incredible.  They engaged the crowd like any of the best know festival bands would have.  Great light show as well, especially for a hip-hop show.  I am quite sad and ashamed to say that after a full day of music/driving/flat tires etc. we decided to take a nap, and in the process missed Radiohead.  I knew I would catch hell for this one.  Many friends of mine came to the Roo just to see Radiohead.  On a lighter note, we woke up to see Umphrey's Mcgee's set start at 2 a.m.  If you haven't seen them, I suggest it.  It's quite a production and their musicianship is unmatched.  Well, they started at 3 and played until 7:30.  Yes, that's a.m.  Absolutely awesome.  Saturday followed with Santigold.  Two girls butt-shaking like it's nobody's business.  Great for the main stage.  After a nap and some dinner.  (Hot dogs cooked over charcoal, pan fried scrambled eggs, mix in some black beans and salsa oh a perfectly assembled hippy-dinner.)  We left camp early to get a spot for the Chili Peppers.  Never seen them so I was excited as hell.  And they delivered.  Played a lot of old hits: Under The Bridge, Suck My Kiss, Give it Away,  as well as some stuff from Stadium Arcadium, which I enjoyed.  They had the audience's full attention.  Mine as well.  Sunday came, and with it came some welcomed cooler temperatures and light rain.  It wasn't enough to drive anyone away, just enough to keep you cool and damp all day.  Many left on Sunday, but that was counteracted with the surge of Phans coming in Sunday afternoon for Phish's 4 hour set to conclude the weekend.  Sunday was probably my favorite day.  We set up camp on some squishy foam mats we bought and just rode out the main stage most of the day.  The Beach Boys were awesome.  All the old people there during the weekend came out of the woodwork for the Beach Boys. Classics like Barbara Ann, Little Deuce Coupe, Surfin' USA, and Good Vibrations were songs that everyone could jam to, young and old alike.  It was wonderful.  Bon Iver followed.  Heard of them and heard their songs on the radio, and I really enjoyed it.  Perfect music to just kick back and enjoy the scenery.  Phish set the scene for the end to a perfect weekend.  More and more Phans descended on the main stage grounds to close it out with a bang.  Sometimes they play a lot of crowd pleasers but as a relatively new Phan, I was overjoyed.  Most of the songs they played: Possum, Tweezer, Rock & Roll, Rocky Top, The Moma Dance and Sample in a Jar were great for me.  Over the years I've heard these songs played by friends, seen them on a DVD, played in a bar etc.  They played like they meant it.  They knew everyone was there because all other bands sets were over so all eyes were on them and their final set to end the weekend.  All in all it was a wonderful weekend and I felt truly blessed to be able to be a part of it with the other 99,999 people that were there to enjoy the pure bliss that live music creates for the audience.  I HIGHLY suggest you add this to your bucket list.  Even if you're old.  A nice couple camped next to us, probably in their late 40's.  The husband was a doctor and his wife was an attorney.  Glad to have you folks.
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