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2001
Apr. 2001 by G.Gone
It’s been a while since I’ve attended a festival where the music was the showcase. This past weekend I attended such a festival, and while the music did not start out as the central theme, the music coordinator did such an amazing job that one could not overlook the fact that the music had indeed become the festival.
The Meriden Daffodil Festival, held in Meriden, CT has a rich 23-year history and all the “County Fair” trapping to go along with it; A 135 unit parade, Arts & Crafts, Carnival rides, a 5K road race, the Little Miss Daffodil contest, a food tent (with over 100 kinds of food!), clowns, magicians, ice carvers, pony rides, fireworks, and over 599,999 Daffodils in bloom over the gorgeous, lush landscape of historic Hubbard Park. But it was the music that drew me to it this year; the 1st time I’ve ever attended this Festival, an annual event that began when I was a teenager.
Rob DeRosa gets kudos and the highest of praise for his efforts as music coordinator. Through his vision of support for local musicians, who in turn, help to support the Festival, Rob was able to expand this years production to 26 bands on 3 stages over 3 days. If the Daffodil Festival had an identity problem before, it doesn’t have to worry anymore, Rob DeRosa has given the Meriden Daffodil Festival the credibility to bring people back for more. I think in time, local CT music fans and artists alike will come to view the Meriden Daffodil Festival as the “Official” beginning to the summer music scene in CT, and both will make the effort to attend.
As for me, I was able to make 2/3 of this year’s Fest (prior commitments forced me to miss Sundays line up) and while that limited the amount of bands I saw, it still gave me enough time to drink in my share of musical bliss. An overview:
Friday
night was a special show to promote alcohol and drug free events for youths. Hosted by the
Following
Swyft was
Ironic moment #1: In-between sets, after Mollycoddle and before Gargantua Soul the sound man was pumping some NRBQ over the system while the stage was being set up. NRBQ was the following (Saturday) nights headliner. I’m not sure if it was a tape or CD, but the song “Wacky Tobaccy” came on. It took a minute or so before it was realized and yanked (remember this was an anti-drug & alcohol event). I believe most of the youth there were too young to be familiar with the song (a NRBQ staple from the 70s) and it literally flew over their heads. As I overheard the soundman trying to explain that he’s so accustom to the song that the meaning had been lost on him, and that he didn’t even realize it, I had to smile.
Gargantua Soul took the stage to a packed crowd of teens (and parents) who totally ate up the amazing sound coming from the New Haven Crew. Kris Keyes in full body paint was in prime vocal form as he carried the music and the message over the top of the body surfing and moshing crowd. Combining most of The First The Last The Tribe CD with several new songs, GSoul delivered a tight musical set that demonstrated Hardcore/Rapcore and Heavy Metal should not be the only tags placed on them. This set was some of the best Hard Rock I’ve heard in ages, eliminating the grating edge of Hardcore that can work against it, and using Marc Amendola and Jason Bozzi’s guitars to produce purer musical sounds then those associated with Heavy Metal GSoul ROCKED with abandon. Feeling the rhythm and feeding off the vibe, both crowd and band came together as one, a Tribe as the band is fond of calling their legion of fans. A Tribe that listened as Kris Keyes, the Shaman of Gargantua Soul, sent out the message of unconditional love, of the fight against evil, of corporate driven negative politics and commercial television (the unreleased “Calling My America” – A real anthem of youth with such a positive message that I wouldn’t be surprised if Corporate Rock-n-Radio would be afraid to play it), of one’s belief in ones self, and ones duty of love and respect not only to ourselves, but to our fellow man. Yes, the GSoul was alive and kicking…
Ironic moment #2: Keyes descended into the pit & gathered the tribe in a circle, as he told how he has been clean for 15 years, I couldn’t help but to notice the smell of pot in the air. The rebellion of youth is alive, and that can be a good thing, if that rebellion is directed in the right way.
It
was another mild moment of irony which had a place in this amazing evening of ROCK,
punctuated by the positive messages of the
As Kris emerged from the pit, being body surfed by the Tribe back to his rightful place at centered stage GSoul launched into their most powerful anthem against evil, “Drive”. Listen to it. Let it make you a better person, and then you can help to make a better world.
Walking out of the park under a blanket of stars it felt good to be alive, I couldn’t wait for what the next day’s events had in store.
It
was now
By
the time we managed to sit in the bleachers in front of the Welcome Stage,
The kids needed to get on some rides and this worked great (or so I thought) the Carnival rides were set up on the massive lawn outstretching from the Bandshell stage. I could watch them ride and listen to The Manchurians at the same time. Wrong. After 40 minutes in the Ferris Wheel line & another 10 at the Tilt-A-Whirl, and another 10 at the Swings the – what seemed like wonderful – sounds of The Manchurians were lost in the shrieks and freaks of adolescences having the time of their lives without a care for who was on stage. As we finally made our way back over to the stage, the set was over.
Graham Parker was due on next so we found a close spot, set up on the lawn and relaxed until he took the stage. Playing solo, he did 18 songs mixing acoustic and electric guitar, not to mention harmonica for accompaniment – Except for “Cupid” which was done a cappella. Using a mix of old, new, very old (a 26 year old demo he forgot about and had just relearned), very new (he debuted 2 brand new songs), and covers (The Dead, Dylan, Peter Green), he peppered the set with friendly and personal banter that fit the mood of the day perfectly. His voice was in fine shape and sounded just as full and lush as always, giving both old and new songs that distinct Graham Parker air. I decided against waiting in line afterwards as he signed autographs, in favor of another trip to the food tent for another taste of CT before NRBQ took the stage.
Fully
fed we once again trekked across the
Later, standing on one of the hills watching one of the most beautiful fireworks display light the night sky, NRBQ finished up their encore, and my family and I Oo’ed and Ah’ed as we basked in the glow. A glow that not only lit up the night sky, but lit up our souls as well. As we walked to the car, I silently regretted not being able to return on Sunday, to once again allow the joy of music to overtake my soul.
Next year.
My apologies to all the Artists I did not get a chance to see/hear, or mention. And once again, many Thanks to Rob DeRosa for his amazing job in coordinating the music, Hats off to you Rob!
Roll Away
The Stones. 
04-04-99 by: G.Gone
The Rolling Stones
brought their "No Security" tour to my state recently. They played 2 sold out
shows at an arena; capacity: 18-20,000 (depending on the seating arrangement). Ticket
prices: from $90 to $125 each.
This got me thinking. I personally have avoided the Rolling Stones for
over 2 decades now, the reason being a monumental show that I attended in 1978. It was
just after the release of "Some Girls" & The Stones had a chart buster for
the first time in years. So it was time for an all out Stadium tour. Well, just 1 week
before graduating High School myself & a few buddies blew off the traditional
Graduating class weekend party & set out for JFK Stadium in Philadelphia, a 4 hour
train ride & a Road trip that changed the way I saw the world.
The following is an abridged account of that impact, written some years after the event....
> Just a week earlier The Rolling
Stones had released "Some Girls". It quickly became their biggest selling album
in almost a decade. The Stones, a legendary band that had faded into mediocrity, were
still great to us. Many parties were held with The Stones on the stereo. Now to have the
chance to actually see them, this was the ultimate. During the late seventies we saw a lot
of bands in concert, but to get to see a legend was rare. Bands like Led Zeppelin, Pink
Floyd, The Who, and The Stones toured infrequently, especially in our neck of the woods.
So when we heard that The Stones were going to play Philadelphia, a four hour train ride
away, and it was merely four days before graduation, it was a no brainer, we were there.
On the Friday two weeks after the Prom and the official start of the
graduation party(ies), a short five days before the ceremony itself, the five of us hopped
a train. The first thing we did after disembarking in Philly was to get a couple of Cheese
Steaks (How could we not?). Then for convenience sake, we hit a local McDonalds to stock
up for the long night of partying ahead. Being experienced in this sort of thing, we knew
that a McDonalds hamburger would last longer and taste better after twelve to eighteen
hours without refrigeration, than just about anything else. Each of us purchased a dozen
burgers and then we jumped on the subway headed out to JFK Stadium. Even though it was
only four o'clock in the afternoon on the day before the show, the subway car was filled
with Rolling Stones fans.
Emerging from the depths of the subway terminal we were confronted with a sight that left us in awe. It was almost a feeling of Woodstock. I say almost, because as far as sheer numbers of people, this did not come close. (Later reports estimated the crowd at approx. 100,000). At four o'clock in the afternoon there had to be at least thirty thousand people already camped out around the stadium. After taking in our fill of this awesome sight we started towards the stadium gates. Winding our way through the massive amounts of tents, grills, kegs, blankets, and sleeping bags. Walking through this congregation of humanity one thing was evident, this was the biggest party we had ever attended in our lives. As far as the eye could see there was a party, spread out all over the stadium grounds and parking lot. From two and three people over here, to two and three hundred over there.
Another thing that amazed us was the presence of the sixties hippie generation. Why this was so amazing was the fact that up until that day, We, as social partying teenagers had never been privileged to be in the company of this monumental counter-culture. As we had entered our teens (around 1972), the hippie drug culture had all but disappeared. In reality though they had gone underground. Their numbers might have shrunk, and society in general may have rejected them, but they still thrived and they were here to carry on their message by simply partying with us. Cool.
And cool it was. I met up with Deb in the parking lot some time around seven o'clock and we spent the night together. We all partied most of the night. We walked all around, always getting invited to party along with any group we happened to be passing by. Everybody was mellow. Everybody was groovin'. I realized this description may sound a little out dated, but that said it all, Groovin'. Listen to the song by The Young Rascals of the same name, This was it.
Being without sleeping bags we crashed on the sidewalk surrounding the stadium. Then around seven AM, we experienced an event the like I have never been involved in since. Groggily something stirred me out of my party induced stupor, As I arose I noticed my friends arising as well. Suddenly we noticed not only were we arising, but it seemed as if every person there (now numbering at least sixty thousand or more) were arising along with us. That was mind blowing in itself, but not only was everyone waking up, they were quickly rushing the stadium gates. The spot we were in was directly between the majority and the gates. We had to move fast or within minutes we would be crushed. Gathering up what was left of our party materials we were swept up in the wave and carried along with it to the locked gates of the stadium. There we were left to stand shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, for the next four hours. Oh yea, I forgot to mention, as we slept it had begun to rain. So here we were, frazzled from the night of parting, soaked and miserable from sleeping on the sidewalk in the rain, and standing with sixty thousand or so others, who felt the same way, as more people gathered to get inside. What were we to do?, except party on.
Once inside we settled down on some benches about half way up on the side and waited for the show to begin. After a few no name opening acts, Peter Tosh got on stage, and began a Reggae set that was not well received by the crowd. With the exception of the song "Legalize It" a pro pot anthem, during which he tossed buckets of Ganja spliffs into the audience, he was mostly booed. Next up was Foreigner. Riding the success of their self titled debut album in '77, with the hit singles "Cold As Ice" and "Feels Like The First Time", they were about ready to release their second album "Double Vision". When they hit the stage, they ROCKED. From the first song to the last, for a full sixty-five minutes they blew the doors in. The Stones couldn't have picked a better band to open for them. Foreigner had whipped the soaking wet, over partied crowd into a frenzy. All the Stones had to do was get on stage and pick up right were they left off.
What followed was one off the most disappointing moments of my life. They Sucked. The Rolling Stones Sucked. They arrived by helicopter, ran on stage and began playing one of the most uninspired sets of music I have ever heard. The sound mix was horrible, Mick Jagger's vocals sounded wretched, Keith Richard's could hardly stand let alone play guitar. Ron Wood didn't even seem like he was playing, or for that matter, even interested in playing, and Charlie Watts just looked and played like he was pissed.
Fifty minutes, that's all, no encore, nothing, they were gone. The people were stunned. We filed out of JFK stadium dumbed and numbed.
My friends and I didn't say much to each other as we headed towards the subway. We didn't know what to say, the shock of disappointment was still too fresh. I said a long good-bye to Deb, never realizing it would be the last time I would ever see her. I was too blown away by the events of the last thirty six hours to even consider that remote possibility.
On the train heading
home we mostly slept, not much conversing. I took to contemplating the subtle symbolic
references we had encountered and tried to apply some coherent significance to them. Too
much thinking for a too fried brain. I didn't come up with any sort of eye opening
revelation that day. I eventually put it aside and slept. We slept the whole train ride
home. Except for the one time that a "Man" came through the car and announced;
"Hey Man, we're taking over the last car man, and like, we're gonna party, man. You
guys went to the Stones, man, didn't ya's? Yea, crazy shit huh man. I can't believe they
were that bad, man. So anyways, man, we're like gonna party our bummed-outness away, man.
Come on back and join us, OK, man."
"OK, OK we'll see ya in a few minutes," we replied and then
went back to sleep, man.
Only with the wisdom of
time have I been able to find the answers that I searched for on that train. We had been
failed by our ideals. The real world didn't care about us, all it cared about was our
money. Madison avenue had climbed into our pockets through our culture. Corporate America
had infiltrated our ranks and was getting rich off keeping us oppressed.
I was leaving the sheltered world of Childhood and joining the Real
world in a few short days, and everything that I grew up with was dead on. It was not all
some crazy mixed up scripted television movie of the week. It was real. The hippie drug
culture and all their speeches, protests, both social and political, and the upheaval that
ensued had been right. Why care about a society that did not care about us. The
Establishment had failed us. It led us to believe that they cared about us, but all they
really cared about was controlling us and our money. Here the parallel symbolism is the
Establishment and the "Rolling Stones".
We watched the generation of the sixties try to withdraw from mainstream society and take care of themselves. Their view being; that any society that would force you to kill or be killed over something that you did not believe in, was not a society to belong to. So they tried to set up their own society. My generation thought they lost, gave up, but they didn't. They were still carrying on and they had come to the Stones concert to give us their support even if the Stones didn't.
My friends and I had chose not to party with the social circles of our school friends, secluded comfortably away from Adulthood and the awful realities of life. We went out and met it head on, we exposed it, and it was clear what we were getting into. Before graduation we knew the cold hard facts of the real world. It's all a game. A game that I did not want to be involved in, even though I was. I could see that I was about to be sucked into a life I was not prepared for. <
Sorry to be so overindulgent, but I needed to share this, so that people may understand my contempt for the Rolling Stones.
Every show means something to some one in some way, & every Artist who takes our money to perform for us, should always at least *TRY* to give us the very best they can. IMO, that's what separates an Artist from a mere entertainer out to make a buck.
Woodstock,
is that you? 
(a review of the Guinness Fleadh).
06-28-99 by: G.Gone
In a few weeks there will be a music
festival held in upstate NY to commemorate the 30th anniversary of "Woodstock".
A big corporate sponsored mega dose of industry capitalism packaged and sold to us as a
"celebration" to honor the legacy from which it derives it's name. But, it's
name is the only thing it has in common with that eventful August weekend in 1969, when
what started as an arts & music festival thrown together by a couple of budding
entrepreneurs, became the largest symbol of counterculture in America's history. A once in
a lifetime event, whose spontaneity will never be repeated no matter how much money is
spent in an effort to do so. The reality is; the sponsors of this years attempted
re-creation know this. They're not interested in reliving the Peace, Love, and Harmony of
Max Yasgur's Farm. They're relying on us, the consumers, to hand over our money so that
they can profit from our desires to be included in something we missed the first time
around.
Not me, I'm not buying it.
In fact, what I did buy took me by surprise. I've just had my
Woodstock without even realizing it (or for that matter attempting it). On Sat. June 26,
1999 I attended this years installment of the Guinness Fleadh (pronounced Flah). Sure it
was a corporate sponsored event held for the purpose of making money, but it didn't hide
behind false pretenses and borrowed titles. It told it like it was; An Irish festival
promoting music, culture, and heritage.
Trimmed down from it's original 3 day 1 city beginnings of several
years ago, the current 1 day 4 city (not counting a stop across the pond) tour was a well
designed package that more than accomplished its intentions. New York was the final stop
in the USA for the festival, which I attended with a friend.
I can sum it up in 4 words: Heat, Beer, Music, Sex.
The Heat: Being a triple H (Hazy, Hot, & Humid) day with temperatures holding steady in the mid-90s, there was no way to escape the heat. Those that tried to by consuming mass quantities of Guinness soon found the blazing sun high in the cloudless sky an omnipresent evil beating them down until they lay prone in the burnt grass and dusty baked ground. Criticism #1 - Festival planners did not have the foresight to set apart an area for either sprinklers or mist-ers. Perhaps their take on such an amenity was the would be mud byproduct and the mess that could ensue (flashes of Woodstock?). However, two troughs with 5 water fountian heads each was not the answer for approximately 50,000+ people seeking relief. Another negative was the $3.00 price tag for a bottle of water. Those smart enough to pace their alcoholic intake along with alternating their beer consumption with other fluids, combined with timely visits to the water troughs for a body splash down, were able to enjoy the day in comparable favor to that of one spent at the beach.
The Beer: Guinness and Harp as well as some other non-alcoholic brew that I didn't pay any attention to for $6.00 a pint. So, how did I start my day? In pure festival fashion; at the "pour your own" tent. My friend and I received instructions on how to "pour the perfect pint" of Guinness. Successfully completing the 5 minute course we happily headed off to peruse the concessions. Along with many other well staffed pre-poured beer tents (most attended by pretty girls in soaking wet Guinness T-shirts!), there were food stands galore with plenty of variety to choose from; Irish, Italian, Mexican, Chinese, American, etc. Criticism #2 - No picnic tables (if there were, we never saw/found them). We had to "enjoy" our lunch (& dinner) sitting on the ground wherever we were able to find enough grass cover. Aside from that, the food was exceptionally good and reasonably priced while the beer was more delicious than it had a right to be.
The Music: With 31 Artists on 3 stages
delivering continuous music for over 12 hours, it was virtually impossible to catch
everything. Some bouncing around was the order of the day and if there wasn't anyone you
planned to see playing at a certain time, then it was hit or miss. A brief synopsis of the
Artists we saw;
Lucinda Williams (Main stage); This country
rocker and her 5 (?) piece band started slowly. After a few songs Lucinda invited Elvis
Costello on stage for "Drunken Angel" & "Greenville" from there
they flat out rocked, closing with a blazing 15 minute rendition of "Joy" where
everyone took the obligatory solo. Very enjoyable, Highly recommended.
Blink (Small "Village Voice"
stage); I received a brief 'Blink' bio from the guy to my left (couple of movie
soundtracks- blew him away last year, etc.) but none of this prepared me for the fierce
onslaught of these guitar heavy rock maniacs. Midway through the first song ("Will
You Die For Me" - I think was the name) as the lead singer/guitarist's veins were
bulging from his neck while pouring every ounce of energy into spitting out the lyrics, I
wondered if he had the stamina to survive a whole set. Surely they would have to slow it
down a bit. Wrong on both counts. 5 songs later a Mosh pit formed which grew larger and
rowdier with each of the next 5 songs as the band and the moshers drove each other into a
dynamic furry of energy and release through controlled destructive tendencies. A great set
to pump up the day.
Candy Butchers (Small (VV) stage): Formula
power-pop from a trio who use 2 session men for accompanying horns every few songs.
Nothing spectacular about them except for the money being spent on the corporate push to
break these guys. Besides reminding us repeatedly of their name and the fact that their
disc will be released on an unknown record label (which is actually owned by one of the 5
major labels) they also handed out free CD's. The fix is in, and I'm not impressed.
The Saw Doctors (Main stage): A crowd
favorite and deservedly so. The masses were singing, dancing, and crowd surfing from the
opening bars of "Green and Red of Mayo" right through their set of favorites
taken from "Sing A Powerful Song" (the 1997 US release of songs culled from
their 3 Ireland/UK discs) and the newest CD "Songs from Sun Street". At one
point as the entire crowd was jumping up and down in unison upon the heat baked clay of
ground and grass, a cloud of dust began to rise until it nearly obscured the stage. Cause
for more beer and good cheer.
Richard Thompson (Medium "VH-1"
stage): Maybe it was the good buzz we had going, or the long hike across the whole
fairgrounds to get to the stage, but we found Richard Thompson (an artist we hold with the
highest respect) uninspired. After 3 lifeless, boring songs we left back for the small
stage.
Luka Bloom (Small stage): He was Awesome. So
captured was I by the intensity of his solo acoustic style, that I mentally made note to
thank the girl who turned me on to him (Thank You DiDi!). We caught about 5 songs from his
set, and as Eileen Ivers joined him on stage we reluctantly left to make our way back over
the the VH-1 stage.
Black 47 (Medium stage): For some unknown
reason there was a delay. When Black 47 took the stage at 9:10 (approx. 15 minutes late)
the sound was in disarray. Not quite loud enough to begin with (prompting the crowd to
chant "Turn it up") and the horns and the Uilleann pipes were lost in the mix.
Finally after "Green Suede Shoes" and "Reels" they seemed to have
solved the sound problems. Boppin' & swaying to the Irish reggae version of Bob
Marleys "Three Little Birds" we once again needed to navigate the crowd in order
to get back across the grounds to the Main stage. A shame because Black 47 sounded to be
delivering a smokin' hot set.
Elvis Costello (Main stage): Elvis Costello
took the stage with his long time pianist Steve Nieve at 10:00 PM. Starting with
"Pads, Paws, and Claws" he ripped through a 20 song set of "Greatest
Hits" (Alison, Veronica, Every Day I Write The Book), New soundtrack releases
("I'll Never Fall In Love Again" from Austin Powers, "She" from
Notting Hill), and personal favorites ("Radio Sweetheart/Jackie Wilson Said",
"New Amsterdam/You've Got To Hide Your Love Away"). Using just his voice,
guitar, and Steve's piano Elvis wowed the crowd with his ability to Rock just as hard as
he can croon. He turned "(What's So Funny 'bout) Peace, Love, and
Understanding?" into an Anthem that deserves attention. He melted the crowd with a
sparse yet beautiful re-arrangement of "I Still Have That Other Girl" (His
Grammy award winning song co-written with Burt Bacharach and featured on their
"Painted From Memory" disc) which found his vocals in top form as they soared
with more intensity then anybody there actually realized he was capable of. Closing with a
disjointed version of "Pump It Up" for which he strapped on the old electric
telecaster, Elvis looked to be enjoying himself as he and Steve couldn't quite get on the
same page, bewildering and puzzling the audience to the delight of the beloved
entertainer. The other Elvis and Frankie should have been proud.
The Sex: What can I say? Guys, Girls, Heat, Guinness, sweat & beer soaked sparse, suggestive, seductive, and revealing clothes was the order of the day. Combined with the crush of the crowd and you can see why it was a hotbed of sexual lust. Consider this; If you were there, you were a potential pick-up victim, and I mean that in the nicest way. Everyone there was friendly (some overfriendly), congenial, polite, nice, and considerate. Everyone was there to have a good time. Many times throughout the day I was reminded of the old CSN&Y song "Love The One You're With", because it seemed to be the theme of the day. Everyone was very touchy, feelie. As people walked through the crowds it was not unusual (in fact it was common) to have hands run across your body. When people were crowd surfing it was more of a group grope type of thing that was not limited by gender, Guys crowd surfing were being grabbed by girls just as much as the girls were being grabbed by guys. I witnessed several girls jump into Mosh pits only to be felt up and down in ways people would think to be obscene, yet in the frivolity and spirit of the day, these girls enjoyed themselves without threat of physical repercussions. Those hot and horny enough to want greater physical contact did so out of the eye shot of the masses. Discretion may have been the rule of intimacy, but for everything else, it was anything goes, yet it was all conducted with a style and grace that could only put a smile on your face.
And after everything I experienced at the Fleadh, the blistering Heat, the fabulous Beer, the unforgettable Music, and the wanton Sexual atmosphere, I walked out of there with a smile on my face. Take that Woodstock '99.
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