Posted on Wednesday 1 June 2011
by Jon Stone | @jwstone
I got a speeding ticket when I was about five miles from Three Sisters Park, the site just north of Peoria, IL where Summer Camp Music Festival has been held every year for the past ten. I was going nine over the posted 45-miles-per-hour speedlimit but there was a nice little stretch of road along the Illinois river and I was gazing out over it wondering what to expect from the weekend. A few minutes into the traffic stop, I was informed by the officer that I’d be be subject to a routine drug inspection and after a few more minutes the K-9 unit vehicle showed up and a dog sniffed around the periphery of my car. Alas, I was clean.
And really, as anyone who is a fan of the jam-fest scene might tell you, what kept me out of jail that afternoon (so said the police officer) is also, likely, what kept me from fully appreciating, and in most cases, understanding a majority of Summer Camp. I’ve never been into the Dead, I don’t own a record by Phish, and loving Wilco is about as close as I get to either (which really can’t be that close). So, my review of the fest is more of a review of its fringes than of the numerous bands who, in one way or another, have been taken up by the masses as the the heirs of the Grateful Dead — or at least as their illegitimate offspring. So, rather than make an effort to give you my thoughts and feelings about the likes of Umphrey’s Mcgee or moe., bands that played at least five sets each over the three days of the fest and have some of the most devoted fans I’ve ever seen, I’m going to stick to what I know. If you love those bands — and surely there are talented musicians in both — it’s likely that you wouldn’t come here for reviews of their shows anyway. They seem to have a very vibrant culture being propegated in other various places on the web. But, if you’re down with Umph, you already knew that.
Somehow — and I’m tempted again to thank Jerry Garcia’s love of the genres — bluegrass and string-band music is a genre embraced by the jam-fest crew. And surely, acoustic musicians love to jam so it’s no surprise that they should be at home at a festival like Summer Camp. I saw some amazing acoustic music over the weekend and made a few non-acoustic discoveries as well. Here’s a rundown of my favorite moments and bands over the three days I was there.
The festival was unprecedented weather wise. It was overcast and in the 70s for most of the weekend which is only a bummer if you’re a glutton for sweatiness and/or toplessness. Many Summer Camp attendees are, however, gluttons for sweatiness and toplessness. The rain, which had drenched the grounds the Wednesday before the fest leaving the fields muddy and moist, didn’t return with a vengeance until Sunday morning when a thunderstorm turned mud puddles into tar pits. So folks were happy to see the sun when it finally did come out during the Avett Brothers’ set. Some also quickly became topless.
Avett Brothers. Speaking of the Avetts, what a band. They played late on Sunday afternoon as a five-piece, having added a touring drummer (Jacob Edwards) since I saw them last summer. Their set was miraculous — drawing on a range of songs, the band is always relentlessly energetic. They play those songs as if they hadn’t just played them every day for the last who-knows-how-long. That ability to sound and appear fresh and excited is one of the secrets to good showmanship — a secret that I don’t understand myself — and the Avett Brothers do it every time. Highlights of the set included an electric guitar wielding Seth Avett during “Kick Drum Heart” (which he rocked) and a lovely single-mic duet from the boys on “When I Drink.” I love seeing the Avetts and I love watching Joe Kwon sing along to every single lyric. He and Bob Crawford were also impeccable.
Hogslop String Band w/ Abigail Washburn. Earlier on Sunday, during the torrential downpour, I sought refuge under one of the few covered “stages” (really just a covered area in the middle of the camping area where some of the best “lesser-knowns” played) for an old-time group called the Hogslop String Band. They were fantastic — and as much the real old-timey deal as I’d ever seen: clawhammer banjo, two fiddlers, a washtub bass player, and one guy playing the washboard (check out these tintypes of the band). So good. Then, out of nowhere, a woman comes out of the audience and starts doing the country-swing with the bassist. Turns out that woman was Abigail Washburn, a banjo player that put out one of my favorite records this year. She sat in on a song and after holding hands with her during an impromptu round dance at the end of the bands set, I’m even more in love. She was there with her husband Bela Fleck — seeing him briefly as their various tours cross paths. It was a thrill.
Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. As I mentioned, Mr. Fleck had buisness to conduct at the festival. He and the Flecktones played their first of about a year’s dates on Sunday in Chillicothe which is exciting because it’s Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, but even more so because they have reformed their original line-up, which includes world-renowned bassist Victor Wooten and the amazing percussionist Futureman but also the keyboard and harmonica player Howard Levy who left the band in 1993 to pursue what became a very successful solo career. Listening to them play is like looking at a piece of fine art and it was a privilege to have the opportunity.
Punch Brothers. I’ve said a lot about the Punch Brothers on this blog so you can imagine how excited I was to see them at the festival. They played on Friday when it was still a bit chilly out and while their set was fantastic, as usual, it seemed pretty — I don’t know — safe, maybe? It felt like the hits — “Punch,” “Alex,” “Next to the Trash” and Strokes’ “Reptillian.” It was the kind of set you’d hear at a festival, which is where we were so i’ll stop making this sound like a complaint. The pretty blonde making eyes at Chris Thile the whole set and telling me how she once had to turn down an offer for “drinks” the last time she saw them play was pretty entertaining in and of itself. Thile’s gots groupies!
Greensky Bluegrass. Kalamazoo’s Greensky Bluegrass played right before the Punch Brothers and I have to say that they were the best straight-up bluegrass band I heard all weekend. Something about the likes of Cornmeal and Yonder Mountain Stringband (two of the “bigger” names that played over the weekend) don’t do it for me. I’m hard pressed to give a good reason other than personal taste. It bugs me, I guess, when a band’s effort to be cross-over seems like more of a gimmick than a creative endeavor. Greensky Bluegrass has no gimmick, but they do play some really great acoustic music. Dobro player Anders Beck and Mandolin/front-beard Paul Hoffman especially. These guys are the real deal and I’d pay to see them again.
The Mother Hips. My good friend and oft-times concert partner Cory has been trying to get me to listen seriously to the Mother Hips for years. I never did. Then, after the Punch Brothers, I happened upon a band that was just killing it. About half-way through their set it dawned on me: this is the Mother Hips. If you’ve never heard them, you should. Even better, try to make that first listening experience a live one. I’m never good at playing the “sounds like” game, but I can’t imagine there being bands like Dr. Dog without bands like The Mother Hips. They played several times over the course of the weekend and I always seemed to find myself there when they did.
The rest of the weekend is a bit of a haze (literally). I saw at least one more good bluegrass band (Chicago’s Hen House Prowlers), and one really incredible stoner-funk/soul outfit (The Main Squeeze). Also great was Nicki Bluhm, a soulful singer and wife of Tim from the Mother Hips. Girl’s got pipes. I also listened in on Huey Lewis’s first few songs (he didn’t play “Power of Love”, but rather seemed to think he was a member of the Band playing both “Cripple Creek” and “The Weight”). I saw Bruce Hornsby as well, but no matter how loud I yelled, he wouldn’t play “Beth/Rest”. Weird.
So, Summer Camp. I went. It was a good time. I managed to miss nearly all ten sets of Umphrey’s Mcgee and moe. I hope you’ll give me a pass on that. Here are some photos I took while I was there. In addition to the great music I saw, I’m considering it a muscle-memory warmup for Bonnaroo next weekend, which I’m also covering for the site. Stay tuned for a preview on that. See you there!
