Edmonton Folk Festival – Friday, Aug. 6, 2010

At Winnipeg Folk Festival, Friday is a full day, with workshops all day, and then a main stage at night. In Edmonton, being a city festival as opposed to a camping affair, they let everybody go to work on Friday and then cram all of the above into the evening. There are workshops from 6-9 pm, and then a main stage concert starting at 9. This led to the inevitable beginning of those difficult choices between conflicting, interesting side-stage shows.

Starting things off right away, I could have found something to enjoy at just about any of the 5 stages open on Friday (there are two more on Saturday/Sunday.) The two leading contenders were a concert set by Australia’s The Waifs, whom I hadn’t seen since I last visited Edmonton in ’06, and a packed workshop called “Big Old Goofy World,” featuring Tom Russell, Calexico, Natacha Atlas, and Tanya Tagaq & Celina Kalluk.

In the past, for me, there wouldn’t have been much conflict between a concert set and a workshop, as workshops always seemed like a better value for your time, and a more likely spot for those one-of-a-kind collaborations that these sessions are supposed to foster. But lately, I’ve become a bit too jaded by too many sessions featuring songwriter after songwriter, all doing a very straight up version of his/her favourite song, over and over. So many of these sessions feature little to no collaboration, and no real connection to any kind of theme. So this year, in Winnipeg, especially, I took advantage of the many side-stage concerts, and I really learned to love them. In those instances, the artists are more in charge, and able to present the performance the way they envision it, and often, that leads to a much better performance, besides the obviously longer, more in-depth presentation.

That having been said, the workshops won out for me on this day, as I was eager to see how Calexico and Tom Russell worked together on stage, after having recently done an album together. I knew that if I stayed at stage 6, watching workshops, I’d see The Waifs later on, anyway.

Calexico

This turned out to be an interesting choice for a workshop (although I did slightly regret not seeing The Waifs concert, but more on that in a minute.) Calexico is one of those dream bands (The Sadies being another great example) that is always willing to collaborate and back up other artists, as well as to choose material that others can join in on. Calexico provided a lot of collaborative magic, with Russell, obviously, but also with the other two acts on the bill.

Those two acts were interesting, if admittedly not for me. Natacha Atlas is a truly

Natascha Atlas

Natascha Atlas

international singer, and a very colourful individual, for certain. Tanya Tagaq is from a little closer to home, Nunavut, but I had moments where I wondered if maybe she was from another world. She’s a throat singer, which, to this suburban kid raised on a heavy diet of pop music, is enough to alienate me. Add the strange sounds (which really do sound like some hot & heavy breathing) to the fact that Tanya was performing with Celina Kalluk, and they perform in rather close proximity, to put it mildly. The thought of two women cuddling up making heavy breathing noises doesn’t offend me (although it is a little bit awkward when it’s on a festival workshop stage… a little out of place), but when said women remind you repeatedly that they’re COUSINS, things get a little extra creepy. I like my cousins just fine and all, but you won’t catch me cuddling up to them, holding hands, and making sex noises in front of a crowd. It wasn’t hard to see that I wasn’t the only one finding it a bit odd, as performers and spectators alike had a bit of a stunned expression during the duo’s performances. To each her own, I suppose…

We stayed at the same stage for another lengthy session, “Talkin’ about my Generation,” featuring The Waifs, Patrick Watson, Kate Reid, and young, local performer Lucas Chaisson. My primary motivation for staying was to see The Waifs, whose concert I missed earlier. This turned out to be a disappointment, as they did kind of strange/boring stuff that I was not at all familiar with. The “fun” Waifs that I remembered

The Waifs

The Waifs

from years gone by must have stayed at the concert stage and sent the “silly” Waifs. They were interesting enough, but not the fun, rockin’ band I remembered and told Jaine about.

Something interesting that I noticed in Edmonton, more so than in Winnipeg, is that the workshops usually feature some established artists, mixed in with some relative unknowns. I’ve heard the complaint about Edmonton Folk Fest (and Winnipeg, and Regina, and every other festival…), mostly from musicians, who feel that there isn’t enough local talent featured. I think that complaint is a bit ridiculous, especially in Edmonton, where it seemed like just about every workshop featured at least one local artist. The locals that are featured in Winnipeg seem to usually get stuck together in one workshop, or put in with other artists that just don’t fit into most of the artists featuring the “stars.” Now, don’t get me wrong, there are benefits to both. Often, when a token local gets thrown into a workshop, it can be a bit of a dud, with a big difference in experience and ability, and an audience that often doesn’t care about its own.

Lucas Chaisson

Lucas Chaisson

Luckily, this wasn’t often the case in Edmonton (with one notable exception, to be discussed later), as the locals rose to the challenge admirably. This is especially commendable in the case of the “U22” (under 22) crew that was featured at this festival. This group of young performers was clearly taught well, and most always held their own on stage with the veterans. Sure, it was always clear that they were just kids and the other performers were coddling them somewhat, but I found this to be a much more interesting way of exposing young performers to a festival stage than our own Young Performers’ Program, which has the kids all shuffled off to a stage where NOBODY but other young performers (and their families) go.

The U22 performer in this workshop was Lucas Chaisson, and he did a pretty good job of holding his own. He’s very young and was quite nervous, but had solid vocals and very strong guitar playing. He should probably get over his Martin Sexton phase and move on to something more original, but he’s off to a good start.

Kate Reid

Kate Reid

Kate Reid is a charming, funny performer, and the crowd seemed to love her. Me, I get a little tired of the cheeky novelty songs, and that seemed to be all she played whenever I saw her.

Patrick Watson, once again, was very interesting and engaging to watch, if a little boring to listen to. He certainly puts on a show wherever he goes, and he has a drummer who is fascinating to watch, which certainly helps. He actually provided the funniest moments of the workshop, when he tried to lead the stage in an improvised singalong for the last number. Nobody on stage wanted to play along, but

Patrick Watson

Patrick Watson

eventually, they all took a turn, and it turned out pretty well.

All in all, a decent workshop, but I question whether I should have attended the Tom Russell concert, instead.

Something else I notice in Edmonton which is definitely not the case in Winnipeg – there are NO scheduled breaks between performances. One workshop ends and the clock is already ticking on the next. This can make for a quicker changeover, with little down time for the audience, but it can also lead to cranky performers, and it makes it really hard to get from one stage to another without missing anything.

Levon Helm

Levon Helm

This is why I missed the first bit of Levon Helm’s mainstage set, which followed. Now, Levon is one of the legends that I was most looking forward to seeing this year. His work with The Band is some of the most important music in the world to me. I’ve also been a fan of his recent solo work. I knew about his cancer scare and its effect on his voice, so I wasn’t expecting it to be in top form, but I was expecting something close to what he’s put on record as of late. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

When the band played in Winnipeg, Levon was clearly under the weather, frequently blowing his nose and shivering under a coat wrapped around him. For that reason, I kind of cut him some slack when his voice was rather weak and hoarse. I figured he would have time to recuperate a bit before the Edmonton festival, and hoped that he would sound stronger. Quite the opposite, actually. He sounded really weak in Edmonton, although he appeared to be having a lot more fun than he had in Winnipeg.

His show is a bit of an old-style revue, where his top-notch band runs through many old classics (including a bunch of Band material). They were polished and strong, but almost too much so. It kind of seemed a little too rehearsed and a little too clean. There was no real live energy to their set, and they carried so much of the show that Levon was basically just a backing musician. Sadly, for me, Levon kind of fell into the same category as Bobby Blue Bland did on Thursday – legends it’s good to see, but even better to listen to at home.

Luckily, there was something to really look forward to after Levon’s set, the concert by Calexico. I’ve seen these guys a bunch of times in concert and have never, ever been disappointed. I don’t think I’ve seen anything close to the same show twice, as they’re always improvising and mixing things up and clearly having fun on stage. I can’t imagine how you could be disappointed by their show, and I was not, in the least.

Their show was followed by a World Music act, Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba (say that 5 times fast), and as mentioned before, suburban white-boy don’t really go for the exotic. Instead, he tends to go to bed early, and I was more than ready to do so on this night, and get a decent rest before the longest, busiest day of the festival, Saturday. So, we headed off into the night to face that long, slow climb up that massive hill to the hotel.

Edmonton Folk Festival – Thursday, Aug. 5, 2010

As much as I love the chance to see the big-name acts at a festival, I find it really hard to be engaged by a main stage concert. For me, the magic and beauty of a festival always comes at the side stages. Sure, there are always must-see shows on the main stage, and sometimes they manage to keep my attention, like the Wednesday Van Morrison show, but Thursday night in Edmonton, nothing had that power over me. Actually, that might not have been the case, had I been a better planner.

Thursday’s show started off with a set featuring Patrick Watson & The Wooden Arms. Watson’s music is what I’d lump into the hipster (indie rock) category, which doesn’t always appeal to me. His are the kinds of shows where all the uber cool suburban kids come to be seen, but rarely do they come to actually listen. When I was at the Hillside festival in Guelph some years ago, I created my own ratings system, The HQ (Hipster Quotient), wherein I could decide how annoying a workshop was going to be, based on the likelihood of annoying suburban hipsters getting in the way of a show. At that festival, anything involving a Broken Social Scenester was guaranteed to draw a huge crowd of annoying kids. At this festival, Patrick Watson was the leader of the HQ army.

I tried to listen to a Patrick Watson CD recently. It was an excruciating experience for me, so I turned it off and had to go into detox by listening to Townes Van Zandt for a while. That having been said, I LOVE watching this band. I saw this crew in Winnipeg last year, somewhat reluctantly, because I was avoiding what was on that main stage, and because I was trying to prove to our 12-year-old daughter that not everything at the folk fest was boring old guy music. Watson’s shows are certainly not boring. With a dynamic, interesting band, and some of the strangest show elements (in Winnipeg he rigged up this multi-megaphone contraption so that he could go out and play in the crowd. In Edmonton he did this shtick where he sang into a megaphone and used a plunger like a trumpet mute to vary the sound. Very cool), the guy does put on one hell of a show to watch.

So why, then, would I choose to wander for food & beer during the one act of the night that stood a chance of entertaining me? Because I’m a dumbass, that’s why! Needless to say, we missed almost the entirety of the Watson show, and by the time we made our way back to the tarp, his set was almost done.

Part of the charm of visiting a festival has little to do with the actual music. Wandering around the site, taking in the sights & sounds & smells, watching the people, taking it all in, etc. is very important, especially at a festival that I only visit every 5 years.

I never planned it this way, and can’t really figure out how it worked, but I have been to the Edmonton Folk Festival 4 times in 15 years: 1995, 2000, 2006 (oops, I’m not sure what happened in 2005, but I sure am grateful to the Wailin’ Jennys for inviting me in ‘06), and 2010. That pattern was unintentional, but now that I notice it I wonder whether I should wait to come back until 2015 just to stick with the program. Of course, every one of my previous visits I’d come by myself, and this time I dragged Jaine along, so maybe it’s time to start anew and just come whenever the spirit moves us.

Things have changed a fair bit since 1995, when I took that long, lonely road trip to see Elvis Costello at Gallagher Park, but a lot of what I enjoyed about the festival remains. First off, the site is almost ideal. I love Winnipeg’s site at Birds Hill Park, but there are drawbacks to being a half hour outside of the city. Calgary is sure convenient, being right downtown and all, but it’s kind of too close. I like Hillside in Guelph, but I never really understood what damn hill I was on the side of – it all looks pretty flat to me! The Edmonton site is very close to downtown, but tranquil and scenic enough to make you forget that, even though you get a spectacular view of the lovely city skyline. Unlike Hillside, The Edmonton Folk Music Festival is on the side of a HUGE ski hill.

This concept is a bit inconceivable to someone from Winnipeg. Our city has only ONE hill, it’s made of garbage, and the only time you even know it’s there is when you want to go tobogganing a couple of times in the winter. There’s no road going over it, it’s not really near anything, and it holds absolutely no significance other than being a good place to sled in the winter, a good place to watch stadium concerts when you’re too cheap to pay for tickets, a good place to go make out on a first date (or so I’ve heard…), and the long ago site of the lamented CoreFest music festival.

I always thought those metalheads, punk rockers, and grunge kids were on to something when they held a festival on the side of a hill – it makes for the perfect natural amphitheater. Of course, if the hill is really steep, there are drawbacks. I don’t really know how people who put their tarps up the hill survive. Maybe they’re not old, sore, and lazy like me, but hiking even a short distance up that hill has me gasping for breath and missing Winnipeg, where EVERYTHING is perfectly flat. I hike up that hill once a year to take photos and to say that I did it. The view from up there is sure pretty, and they do have a couple of video screens halfway up the hill, so you can see the action on stage. I just think that you’re too far removed from the show to actually be engaged. I’d be really annoyed with the path that cuts the hill in half horizontally, as well – I can’t imagine having your tarp set up right in front of a busy walking path – you wouldn’t ever see anything but people walking.

Tarp rush lineup

The tarp setup ritual is getting a little too organized and civil for me. I miss the good old days of the “tarp rush” where you’d line up a day in advance for the chance to kill yourself falling down this steep hill (or in Winnipeg, for the chance to kill yourself tripping over someone slow.) Now, in Edmonton, you can only line up an hour before gates open, and they only let people in 25 at a time. Of course, you can only move at a slow, leisurely pace. They have bagpipers leading the procession onto the hill (although the sound of those pipes that early fills me with rage, not eager peace.) I was lucky enough to get a pretty good tarp position in Edmonton, although I didn’t really use it much on this day.

The pipe band leads the charge

I did take the opportunity to wander through the food vendors, but the lineups were ridiculously long, and I’m ridiculously impatient. Instead, we figured we’d go visit the beer tent, but what do you know, another ridiculously long lineup was awaiting. The concept of waiting to get into the beer tent was a bit foreign to me. I’ve never even been in the main beer tent in Winnipeg (I only rub shoulders backstage at the tavern, thank you), but I have been a fixture at the tent in Calgary. They do things differently in Alberta. First of all, you can get your beer by the pitcher, and EVERYBODY does. Heck, even Jaine and I splurged for a pitcher, and we don’t normally drink much at all. Of course, this has much to do with the fact that after you make it through the long lineup to get in, you have to wait in one long lineup for tickets, then one more to get your drinks! For a guy who hates waiting, that’s a lot of damn lineups, so we had to make it worthwhile and buy a whole pitcher.

The busy beer tent (right)

And that, my friends, is why we missed most of Patrick Watson’s set, and why we ended up watching all of Kate Rusby’s set, even though, musically, she does nothing for me. Not that there’s anything wrong with Rusby, she’s got a wonderful voice and a charming, down-to-earth personality. The truth is that I’m a folk festival addict who quite dislikes most folk music, and Rusby can’t really be called anything other than straight up folk. It was just a little too British and a little too folky for me.

She kind of reminded me of an act I saw the last time I was in Edmonton, Chumbawumba. They had that one huge, mega hit in the 90s, and it doesn’t at all seem like anything that would fit in at a folk fest, so I had no idea what they were doing there. They ended up being this straight up British folk act, and they didn’t do their huge hit, Tubthumping, despite repeated pleas from loogans in the crowd. Their set had me thinking of that movie A Mighty Wind, and wondering whether they were serious or somehow misguidedly ironic or what. Rusby was a little easier to take seriously, but just as hard for me to actually pay attention to.

Gord Downie (with Dave Clark on drums!)

Up next on main stage was Gord Downie and his band, the Country of Miracles. The band is pretty amazing, featuring Julie Doiron, Dale Morningstar, Josh Finlayson (Skydiggers), and my old pal Dave Clark, who blew my mind as the drummer for Rheostatics back in the day, before moving on to some really tasteful and entertaining drumming backing folks like Michael Johnston and Tannis Slimmon (as well as putting out some very interesting music on his own.) With a band like that and a showman like Downie, you’d think that this would be a great show, and I suppose it was, in some ways, but it didn’t do much for me.

I, personally, do not understand why Downie seems to be booked at every Canadian festival this year. I don’t think they all need his name or his annoying fans attached to their festivals. Much like Chumbawumba, I just don’t see how Downie’s loogan-rock fits in at a folk festival. In Winnipeg he acted pretty un-folky, jumping off stage and milling with the crowd and wearing a clock on his head, but in Edmonton, he seemed a bit more interested in joking about Julie Doiron’s foot cast. He is funny, and the band is great, but musically, about as interesting as a dialtone.

Ben HarperLast up on the mainstage was one of those curiosities you get at festivals, and another guy I wasn’t sure really fit my vision of a “folk festival” (whatever that is), Ben Harper. He’s made some interesting music, and apparently puts on a good show, so he was one to see, although if I had been more tired or it had been raining, I would have gladly headed back to the hotel. Harper’s band, Relentless 7, was a last-minute deletion from the program, as one of the band members apparently became seriously ill or something, so he was billed as doing a stripped-back, acoustic show, although he still seemed to have a full complement of players backing him up. When I heard that he was doing a smaller, more acoustic set, I got rather worried that he would do more slow, boring stuff, and that he might veer off into boring guitar wank, and shortly into his show, he did both. That was our cue to leave, and get back to the hotel, so we packed it in for the day.

Heading back to, or from, the hotel was no easy task. I’ve spent a fair bit of time in Edmonton over the years, even bringing my bike to and from the festival the first time (and never again…), but I still don’t really have a good grasp of the lay of the land. It seems a pretty spread out, windy kind of a town that is dictated by the rivers and the land. Winnipeg is about as straightforward as it gets (well, I suppose it would be more so, and even more boring if we had the standard numbered streets instead of our confusing street names), with some streets going north/south, and some avenues going east/west. If you want to go East or West, you just find your way to Portage Avenue. If you want to find your way North or South, you hop on Main Street. In Edmonton, none of that seems true, so I really had no idea how to get to/from.

The first night we decided to risk public transit, which was all fine and good, but the bus was super packed, took a confusing route, and, worst of all, it would only drop us off at the top of the ski hill. This wouldn’t have been bad, but we had to pick up our tickets and enter/exit through the gate at the bottom of the hill. While walking down a hill is always easier than walking up, it’s still not the way you want to start your day.

Eventually, we found our way to a shuttle bus that takes volunteers (and, now, media poseurs) from some baseball stadium to the site. That worked out well, as the volunteers were extremely friendly and helpful, and nobody bothered to point out that we had no business being there. I realized on one of the trips back that the stadium appeared to be relatively close to downtown, where our hotel was. I noticed some landmarks within walking distance (or so I thought), so I figured, being as thrifty (cheap) and ambitious (foolish) as I am, it was worth a walk. One problem. The only thing separating us from downtown was an even BIGGER hill.

We don't have ANY of these signs in Winnipeg!

It ended up being a fun challenge. The push down the hill at the start of the day was kind of manageable, but that long, slow ascent up that massive hill at night was a bit crazy. I honestly don’t know how people live like that. What do they do when it’s slippery on that hill in the winter? What do you do when you live on that hill and your kid drops a toy (or you drop your kid) down the hill and it rolls for a mile? How do you ride a bike or park a car like mine that has bad brakes? It

It doesn't look big in this picture, but trust me, it IS!

amazes me.

Anyway, the hike (and the inevitable complaints and laughs) was kind of good for the soul and it helped to bring on some solid sleep.

Edmonton Folk Festival – Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2010

This year’s Edmonton Folk Music Festival kicked off at Gallagher Park with a special Wednesday night fundraiser concert, featuring Bobby Blue Bland and Van Morrison.

The Wednesday night show is becoming more common at festivals, it seems. Winnipeg this year lumped it in as part of the festival, but Edmonton, for the second year in a row, sold it as a separate ticket, as a festival fundraiser (not that Edmonton really needs to raise funds – it sells out every year and is sitting on a million dollar endowment fund, I read, among other huge successes and ongoing initiatives). Apparently the show almost didn’t happen. As of a few days before the tickets going on sale (and you’d better get your tickets on the day they go on sale, because they almost always sell out on that date – the full weekend passes, anyway) there was no artist announced. I read today in an Edmonton paper that this was because there was almost no artist to announce. Festival AD Terry Wickham (aka the man of miracles, in my eyes) wanted to do another Wednesday night show, but only if he could find the right marquee act to program. He got his wish late in the game with one of the dream acts of many festival programmers, Van Morrison.

Apparently Morrison was the one who recommended Bobby Blue Bland as an opening act. Interesting choice. I honestly thought that Bland was dead. He’s one of those cool, obscure acts that festivals love to bring in. There’s no way you’d get to see a living legend at a club somewhere anymore, as they don’t have the drawing power on their own, but as part of a festival lineup, they add some buzz. In Edmonton, on past visits, I’ve seen lineups that included The Staples Singers, Junior Wells, Wilson Pickett, Long John Baldry, and more. Where else would I get to see acts like that? Jimmy Cliff played that role in Winnipeg this year.

Like Jimmy Cliff (and many of the others mentioned), Bobby Blue Bland isn’t the performer he used to be. Sure, he’s old and sits in a chair rather than moving around the stage, but nobody really cares whether he can do scissor kicks after each song. It’s the voice you look for, and Bobby’s just ain’t there any more. He’s a legend, he’s in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, and has a long string of blues/R&B hits attached to his name. It’s cool to have him as part of the festival, but like most of the audience around me, I wasn’t entirely captivated by the performance. His band followed the old blues/R&B shtick of starting the show without him and performing a couple of instrumentals. I never entirely understood that, because you just get bored wondering when the guy you actually paid to see is going to emerge. In this case, Bobby’s entrance was somewhat anti-climactic, because once ushered out and announced as “the world’s greatest blues singer,” he croaked his way through most of the set. The guy’s getting on in years, so it ain’t his fault, but he’s got no high notes and when he dipped down, it kind of sounded like he was farting into the mic or something. Good tunes, solid band, but I do now see why Bobby’s been laying low (leading me to think he was dead).

Nobody could wonder which side of the grass Van Morrison is on, because he’s never really stopped putting out albums and never entirely faded from the spotlight. Like many people I suppose, I have a real hit-and-miss track record with Morrison’s musical output. Sure, he put out Moondance, one of the greatest albums of all time and one of the most important albums in my life and he’s got a ton of other really powerful, memorable songs, but he’s also got a whole lot of boring crap (I just about told you to check your CD store delete bins for some of the albums I’ve bought over the years, but, sadly, there aren’t many CD stores any more, and even fewer delete bins…).

In addition to his hit-and-miss recordings, Morrison has developed quite a reputation for being wildly unpredictable in concert (as well as a reputation for being a pompous jerk). He’s another in the line of legends who can’t be bothered to acknowledge a crowd from stage (Neil Young, Dylan, etc.). Sometimes Morrison is “on,” and he’s in the mood to do the old hits and puts on a lively, interesting show, but seemingly more often, he’s in the mood to play what he wants, how he wants to, and many people who’ve seen him live have left disappointed. I, personally, am growing very tired of those inflated-ego shenanigans, and would rather spend my money and time on performers who care AND appreciate that I’m there. I’ll choose to see 25 smaller shows at $10 long before I’ll see one $250 show again (Hey Neil, I want my money back. I need it more than you do).

True to form, at this show, Morrison didn’t say so much as “Hello,” “Thank You,” not even a “Goodbye.” Hell, would it kill him to introduce his great backing band that puts up with his crap? He did, however, have one of those “on” nights, that’s for sure.

And to think, I almost didn’t go to this show. When I first planned this trip, I couldn’t justify the extra cost of the ticket, another night in the hotel, extra food, time away from home, etc. What with the huge potential for disaster, it just didn’t seem worth it. Luckily, I did the right thing in the end.

Van & the band came on stage with no fanfare at all. No introduction, just right on and into the first song. Morrison originally started off a little bit back from the front of the stage, so I couldn’t see him at all from my vantage point, which made me a little worried. [I just read a review stating that he was sitting at the piano. News to me! Note to Edmonton Folk Fest: the video screens at the side of the stage in Winnipeg are GREAT, because even close up, you can glance over and find out what you’re missing.] Eventually Morrison did the right thing and moved to front & centre, where he could sing into his GOLD PLATED microphone stand (adorned with a big VM logo) and GOLD PLATED microphone. Clearly, dude likes it ornate.

The songs take on kind of an ornate quality in performance as well. Morrison is backed by a 6 piece band of veterans who know their chops. Apparently he’s not afraid to berate a player on-stage if he misses a cue or plays a solo that Van doesn’t approve of. Tough guy to work for, but I guess it keeps you on your toes as a musician. And those musicians worked hard – tasteful solos throughout almost every song, nice touches of violin, flute, piano, guitar, and Van’s oft-present saxophone. Morrison is no slouch on a variety of instruments, taking solos on sax, guitar, and harmonica. And his voice, that powerful, soulful voice has aged well. It hasn’t really lost its power or edge at all over the decades that have passed since he recorded those great classics.

And surprisingly, he was in the mood to indulge us in many of those. Almost right off the top – second song, actually – he went into a breezy version of that tired-but-true classic Brown Eyed Girl. Personally, I could do without ever hearing that classic rock staple ever again, and if I’m tired of it, imagine how much ol’ crankypants Van hates it. But did it he did, and well, too. I figure that was thrown in to appease some of the loogans who surely would have yelled out for it, and to prove that he was willing to make some attempt to appease the critics. I figured that would be the lone obligatory hit, but soon after, we were treated to an especially jazzy run-through of Moondance.

Now, I’ve mentioned that Moondance is one of the seminal records in my life, one that opened my ears and eyes and blew my mind, and one that I absolutely love to this day. A few times in my life when I was courting a lady, I would ask whether she had a copy of Moondance – if the answer was yes, it was love. I have it on record, cassette, and CD. Heck, if I could find an 8-Track, I’d buy that too. So to hear a song from it live was a dream come true. I thought that would be the pinnacle of the concert, and I was fine with that.

Then, shortly later, Into the Mystic. That’s a song that brings a tear to my eye and a flutter to my heart every time I hear it. It’s just one of those timeless classics that I won’t ever get enough of. It took a minute to place the jazzy introduction, but once it clicked in, I was rapt. As if that weren’t enough, we were treated to a delightful run-thru of Have I Told You Lately and a rousing show-closing version of Gloria. Hell, if Morrison had thrown in Lord, If I Ever Needed Somebody, I would have thrown my undergarments on stage. Luckily for all around, that wasn’t to be, but I did get my heart’s fill, that’s for sure.

And I can’t imagine anyone leaving the show unsatisfied – they did the obligatory hits, threw in enough obscure material to appease the hard-core Van fans (and there were many), played solos deftly and often enough to show that they are skilled musicians, sang with heart and soul you wouldn’t expect from a guy who seems to hate fame and being watched, and used up every minute of their allotted stage time (sure, if I had been at a concert venue, I might have liked more, or an encore, but this is a festival with noise bylaws and such).

I should mention that there are no photos of Morrison’s show attached to this review, because we were warned on entry (and scared off by the omnipresent security) that there were to be absolutely NO photos of Morrison, lest he flee the stage like a scared rabbit. I could understand when Neil Young’s people made the same request of us recently after the show, hanging around the tour bus – haggard Neil, tired and wanting to go play with his train set could be forgiven, but on stage, Van was looking pretty dapper indeed. If I looked that good at his age (hell, if I looked that good at my age), I might not mind a few souvenir photos just to show that I’m still lookin’ studly.

After the show ended, buoyed by the great show, we went searching the streets of Edmonton looking for a late-night snack. While they do have a lot more going on than Winnipeg, there aren’t that many options late on a Wednesday, so we ended up at Sherlock Holmes pub, a short walk from our hotel in one direction and the festival’s host hotel in the other. Sitting having a pint, looking over the menu, I happen to notice festival AD Terry Wickham walk in.

It should be pointed out that, although I’ve never met Terry Wickham, and don’t know a thing about him, he seems like a hell of a good dude. He continually programs one of the most interesting, star-studded festivals anywhere, and he genuinely seems concerned with how well everything runs. I always see him running around the site, checking out concerts, talking to artists, volunteers, and everyday Joes. I don’t know how, after a day of all of that, he still has time to go out for a late night pint, but there he was.

And strolling right behind him… nah, not him, but his band! Van Morrison’s combo came in and sat a couple of booths away. I’ve never been tempted to go and congratulate backing musicians before (I reserve my annoying stalkage for bona-fide stars, thank you), but these guys impressed me in all kinds of ways. Unfortunately, some weird old pub regulars got to them first, so I figured my gushing wouldn’t exactly be welcome.

And speaking of unwelcome… after a night of great music, we were treated to pub performer Stan the Man from Newfoundland. Yup, that’s what he calls himself. Now, Stan the Man seems like a decent dude too, and he’s got a tough gig playing to bar patrons who either don’t notice him or don’t care, but his staunch insistence on playing EVERY cheesy overdone hit the exact same, speed up tempo, and in the same key, got really annoying. You just can’t do Hotel California and Last Dance with Mary Jane exactly the same. Well, Stan can. Anyway, Stan, I’m sure oblivious to what he was doing, threw in an especially annoying cover of Brown Eyed Girl. I can only imagine that the band would either have considered walking out or showing Stan how it’s really done.

Luckily, the beer was cold, the pizza was great, and it was a nice night to just hang out in a fun city, knowing that I could sleep in for a change the next day, and knowing that there was much more wonderful music to come.

On to night 2, we go!

March 6, 2011

There’s some great music in and around Winnipeg these days, including the Jim Bryson & The Weakerthans show in Falcon Lake. We’re off to that tonight, so the live portion of the show is only an hour long. It features new and notable tunes, and music from some of the many talented musicians who have put on shows recently, or will do so this week.

Hour two is a pre-recorded hour of “forgotten gems,” where we dig back into the vault to pull out favourites that we haven’t heard in awhile, from artists that we don’t hear often enough.

Sadly, the technology let us down, so the second hour did not air live. It lives on in podcast form, and we’ll try to slip it on air sometime soon.

playlist
part 1
part 2

Steel Belted Radio March 3, 2011

This week a chat with Mae Moore, who is about to return to Winnipeg for the first time in a long time. Also returning is our pal Jim Bryson, and we’re excited about that, and can’t go without a few songs. We’ve got new music (new Damnwells!), classics, requests, and more!

playlist
part 1
part 2

Episode #381 Sunday, March 6, 2011

There’s some great music in and around Winnipeg these days, including the Jim Bryson & The Weakerthans show in Falcon Lake. We’re off to that tonight, so the live portion of the show is only an hour long. It features new and notable tunes, and music from some of the many talented musicians who have put on shows recently, or will do so this week.

Hour two is a pre-recorded hour of “forgotten gems,” where we dig back into the vault to pull out favourites that we haven’t heard in a while, from artists that we don’t hear often enough.

Sadly, the technology let us down, so the second hour did not air live. It lives on in podcast form, and we’ll try to slip it on air some time soon.

Artist – Song title – Album Title – CDN=Canadian – WPG=Winnipeg artist

2:00 – 2:30 pm

Jim Bryson & John K Samson – Somewhere Else – live recording – CDN

Teenage Fanclub – Concept – Bandwagonesque

The Replacements – Can’t Hardly Wait (Early ’85 Alex Chilton Sessions) – Boink!

Big Star – The Ballad of El Goodo – #1 Record/Radio City

Nick Rose – Summer Dress – The Cloverhill EP – CDN

Nick Rose – Light at Dawn – The Cloverhill EP – CDN

2:30 – 3:00 pm

Matthew Barber – And You Give – Ghost Notes – CDN

Oh Susanna – Drunk as a Sailor – Soon the Birds – CDN

Good Lovelies – Old Highway – Let the Rain Fall – CDN

Good Lovelies – Down, Down, Down – Good Lovelies – CDN

Ladybird Sideshow – Jaded – Demo – CDN

Melissa McClelland – Glimpse into Hell – Stranded in Suburbia – CDN

Mark Berube and the Patriotic Few with Dan Mangan – Side of the Road – June in Siberia – CDN

3:00 – 3:30 pm

The Brothers Cosmoline – Motel 6 – Songs of Work & Freedom – CDN

Nels Andrews – Meadowlake – Sunday Shoes

Chris Knight – Cry Lonely – Enough Rope

Julie Miller – All My Tears – Broken Things

Dan Frechette – Where the Water Tastes Like Wine – Lucky Day – CDN – WPG

Colin Linden – The Last Thought – Big Mouth – CDN

Jim White – The Wound that Never Heals – No Such Place

3:30 – 4:00 pm

Eilen Jewell – Dusty Boxcar Walls – Letters from Sinners & Strangers

Chloe Albert – Firelight – Dedicated State – CDN

Carolyn Mark – Not a Doll – The Pros and Cons of Collaboration – CDN

Chris Whitley – Poison Girl – Living with the Law

The Flying Burrito Brothers – Hot Burrito #2 – Sacred Hearts and Fallen Angels: The Gram Parsons Anthology

Mary Gauthier – Good-Bye – Filth & Fire

Eliza Gilkyson – Wonderland – Land of Milk & Honey

Chris Neufeld – Told a Joke – Colorado Low – CDN – WPG

February 27, 2011

Our favourite co-host, Carter, joins us for the first time in our fancy new studio, and for the first time in 2011. We’ve got some great new music and some great requests courtesy of our listeners. We send some birthday greetings out to the great Jon Dee Graham, and look forward to the upcoming shows by Jim Bryson & The Weakerthans!

playlist

part 1
part 2

Steel Belted Radio – Feb. 24, 2011

Today on the show, we lament missing out on the Serena Ryder show, and we look forward to the Arrogant Worms show, with a chat with Worm Trevor Strong. T-Bar’s back to making questionable picks, and we finally get around to Dean’s request, and some other rockin’ tunes!

playlist

part1
part 2 (Arrogant Worms interview)
part 3