Tell the Band to Go Home

By Saturday, I was already feeling a bit worn down after 3 fairly late nights of music, but this was the day when the “real” festival felt like it began for me, with a multitude of workshop options to enjoy. Luckily, the choices were fairly simple for me.

But even before the shows began, I was already discovering new music, courtesy of one of the highlights of any trip to Alberta, CKUA. That radio network is kind of a holy-land for me, with folk, roots, and blues being the staples of their schedule. They always have a strong presence at Alberta folk festivals, and Edmonton, of course, is no different. CKUA has a tent right on site, where they broadcast live, all day. (I’m just waiting for the

invitation to pitch a Tell the Band to Go Home tent at the Winnipeg festival. Call me?) Each host has a schedule of festival performers who drop in to chat and play, and the lineup of guests is pretty impressive. You could actually sit at the CKUA tent and see many of the best artists at the festival. The funny thing is, the crowds at the tent always seemed pretty small.

On this day, the guest list early on included Alejandro Escovedo and Joe Pug, both of whom I enjoy, and Dave McCann, who was one of the locals that

sounded most appealing to me. McCann ended up being one of my favourite “discoveries” of this festival, and Jaine has become somewhat obsessed with his latest CD. I really enjoyed hearing him first on CKUA, and getting to know a little more about him.

After McCann was an enjoyable chat with Joe Pug. He was a big hit at the Winnipeg festival a couple of years ago, but this was his first appearance in Edmonton. He went from nobody to big star in Winnipeg thanks to his appearance at our festival, and it was great to see that Edmonton audiences seemed to respond the same way.

After Pug’s interview, we made our way to Stage 5 for a session called “Old Songs/New Songs,” featuring Jimmy Rankin, Chris Trapper, Jill Hennessey, and Holly Williams. Workshop titles are always kind of a laugh – occasionally (very occasionally), they can lead to a magical session where performers do different/unique/obscure material to suit the theme, but most often, as in this case, artists can interpret the theme however they want, and end up playing whatever they want. This title was especially dorky, because, as host Jimmy Rankin said, “all songs are either old or new, so we can do just about anything.” I assume that festival AD Terry Wyckham intended for the artists to dig back into their catalogues and pull out old ones that may not get heard every day, or play new songs yet to be recorded, but it’s my experience that artists are somewhat lazy, and just want to get their best/favourite songs out there. Fair enough, I suppose.

Jimmy Rankin is one of those guys who has obvious talent and a knack with a melody, but for some reason, he irritates me. His songs are a little too slick and blatantly commercial, and he has a bit too much confidence. Jimmy doesn’t strike me as real humble or modest. His songs were good, but I was always glad when his turn was over.

Chris Trapper is another guy who comes across as quite sure of himself (not that there’s anything wrong with that.) He’s got some great songs, but for some reason, he seems to lean on the same two songs, wherever he goes. One was on the soundtrack to August Rush, one of the WORST movies of all time. The soundtrack was pretty good, and it got

nominated for an Oscar, but I wouldn’t want my name associated with that piece of crap movie. Yeah, I saw it, and now I want those two hours of my life back, please! His other song is this cute little song about death called “Put a Keg on my Coffin.” He did that song and told the same introductory joke EVERYWHERE he went. Now, I know that at a festival this big, you’re going to see new people wherever you go, but you have to hope/assume that some people are going to follow you and see you more than once, and those people want to hear something different, especially when you’re only doing a few songs at each session. All that having been said, I do enjoy Chris, and was glad to get to see him again, after having seen a short, opening set in Winnipeg a year or so ago.

Jill Hennessey… hmmmm… I promised to be a little bit more careful with my honesty, after the Trout Forest incident a few years ago… Jill is, I’m sure, a talented actress. She should stick with that. Like so many actors/actresses, she’s allowed the token vanity project CD, but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what she was doing playing one of the most prestigious festivals in Canada. Sure, she was technically born in Edmonton, but she wasn’t raised there and hasn’t lived there since, so I’d say that her Edmonton roots are pretty shallow. Sadly, so is her “music.” And if Jimmy Rankin was a bit egotistical and annoying, Jill put him to shame. Wait, I said I was going to be careful…

Holly Williams could easily have fallen into the same hole as Hennessey – she’s Hank

Williams’ granddaughter, Hank Jr.’s daughter (easy claim to fame), and she’s gorgeous. She wouldn’t have to do much more than open her mouth to get some attention, but luckily for her (and us), she seemed quite talented. Of course, I can’t be entirely sure, because she (like many artists in Edmonton, I found) didn’t bring nearly enough CDs and they sold out long before I could scoop one up. I just can’t imagine how you can go to a huge festival and not bring a ton of CDs. As Paul Thorn said in Winnipeg when he made that mistake, “it’s like leaving money on the table, and that ain’t good.” I’ll be watching for Holly down the road.

We did duck out of this session to head back to the CKUA tent to catch Alejandro Escovedo. For me, he was one of the biggest stars at the festival, and the opportunity to see him up close and personal (and bug him for an autograph) was too much to pass up. Alejandro is one of the artists that first caught my attention and blew me away at my first folk festival in ’93, and when I mentioned that to him after his CKUA interview, he had fond memories of the festival (even though he broke his guitar and felt that he came a really long way for not a lot of exposure.) His last CD, “Real Animal,” was a big highlight for me, but his newest hadn’t really caught on with me yet. This is probably largely to do with the fact that I don’t own it yet (CDs aren’t real and aren’t good until I own them, of course), but I was hoping to pick up a copy at the festival. Sadly, Alejandro didn’t bring ANY merchandise at all, so I went home empty-handed. Another guy leaving money on the table… I sure did enjoy getting to hear him speak about the songs and his family, and hearing some acoustic versions of songs that he would rock with his band later on.

We managed to make it back to stage 4 for a session called “Trouble,” featuring Steve Dawson, Joe Pug, Dave McCann, and a local U22 performer. Not entirely memorable, but it was a solid session and a great opportunity to see all of the performers. Most notable for me was probably Steve Dawson, who is becoming so important for his work with Black Hen Music and the many acts that he produces, but who is still an amazing, highly underrated musician. At this festival (as

with so many Canadian festivals this year), he was performing as part of a tribute that he put together for the Mississippi Shieks. Yet another one of those amazing projects that is so worthwhile, which shows his passion and amazing ability to pull together a diverse crew of like-minded musicians. I’m so glad to have seen him do his own thing, albeit briefly in this session. He is definitely someone I should be listening to and playing on the radio more.

Edmonton has this nifty tradition of the afternoon concert on the main stage, where all of the side stages shut down and finally get a much needed break. On this day, we were treated to one of the concerts that I was most excited to see, Alejandro Escovedo and

his Sensitive Boys. Alejandro never disappoints me live, and this was no exception. Although I’ve already mentioned that his new album hadn’t grabbed me yet, seeing the material performed live made it much more interesting and important to me. He ran through a great set of old and new, and some killer covers, like “Beast of Burden.” He can do rock, country, folk, soul-tinged stuff, and so much more, and whatever he does, he excels at. He’s a true musical treasure and one that it’s always a treat to see live (as you can see from the videos below!)

There were some good workshop options after that, but nothing that would keep the great energy going, so we opted for a needed dinner break, before heading over to stage 4. The session there was called “Shine a Light,” and it was supposed to feature Marc Jordan, Joe Pug, and Dan Wilson. Wilson was one of the guys that I was keen to hear for the first time at this festival, but he was nowhere to be found. Pug was put in a rather awkward scheduling position as he had his concert set end at exactly the same time as this workshop that he was supposed to be in. So, the workshop started out with a solo Marc Jordan.

Marc Jordan is one of those great songwriters that I love to see at a festival. He’s written some wonderful songs, and having seen and met him before, I know that he’s a decent, interesting guy. That having been said, I don’t think that he really thought much of going it alone on this stage. He was self-deprecating (bringing up the fact that people had been mistaking him for Margaret Atwood – and I can see why!)

and funny, but not entirely engaging. He figured that nobody knew who he was, so he started off with his smash hit “Marina Del Ray.” Now, that is a great one, and it has done him well over the years, no doubt, but I for one am ready for him to put it behind him. Maybe he still feels that he has to do it every show, maybe he’s just proud of it or something, but whatever it is, I’m getting a little tired of it. He’s written many, many wonderful songs since, and I for one would much rather hear some of those.

Jordan seemed pretty pleased when a local performer showed up (filling in for Dan Wilson – no explanation was given for his absence), and again when Joe Pug showed up. Unfortunately for me, our time at that stage was about up as we had to head to stage 3 for another busy workshop. In the end, “Shine a Light” seemed a little dim.

The next session proved a little more interesting. It was called “Take a Look at my Heart,” and it featured Murray McLauchlan, Holly Williams, Beth Nielson Chapman, and Diana Jones. This was another of those vague workshop titles that didn’t seem to really inspire most of the participants, so they mostly just did whatever they wanted. Holly Williams again impressed me with her songs and stories (although I did hear a repeat song/story again in the same day).

Beth Nielson Chapman was a real delight. She’s one of those songwriters who I knew of by her legendary reputation, but had never actually listened to. She was a highlight for sure, with her touching, heartbreaking songs. She has a bunch of very powerful stories to tell after some devastating experiences in her life, and it makes for some great songs. Murray McLauchlan was characteristically entertaining and charming (sorry Ron!) Diana Jones has some powerful songs, but her voice and much of her material failed to grab me.

After the set, all of the performers were available to sign and chat. McLauchlan was dashing off to another stage to join his Lunch at Allen’s collaborators, but he was still kind enough to record some station IDs and say hello

The evening main stage started off with gospel/bluegrass band Dailey & Vincent. That normally wouldn’t interest me at all but the food lines were long and we were plenty tired, so we sat and took it all in. The band managed to win me over a bit with some great humour and a pretty funny bit where the lead singer went into the audience with a wireless mic. One of the guys in the band had this really annoying loud laugh, and he laughed at just about everything that the singer dude said. It was kind of funny at first, but grew old fast.

Never a huge world music fan, I opted to wander off during Vieux Farka Toure’s set. It was time for my regular hike up the hill. At least once during the weekend, I have to make the trek up the ski hill to see how the top-of-the-hill folk live. There’s an interesting community up there, with a whole different energy of its own. You can’t really connect with the music the same way up there, so folks watch the video screens and create a different kind of culture. Again, not at all my scene, but it seemed like the folks up there were enjoying themselves.

We finally settled back onto the tarp for a concert by Sarah Harmer. I’ve fallen in and out of love with Harmer’s music over the years, varying between huge fan and casual observer. Her latest record is quite strong, but having seen the live show in Winnipeg so shortly before this appearance, I wasn’t all that

excited by another opportunity to watch her luke warm live show. Still, watch it we did. It was characteristically nice, with little in the way of magic or overly memorable moments.

But we had to be in position for the next concert, one of the main reasons why I’d made the trek to Edmonton in the first place, Brandi Carlile. Her moving, emotional songs have been mainstays on my CD player and on my radio show, and I was very eager to see her live show. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but had high hopes for her.

She did not, in any way, disappoint. Backed only by her twin accomplices, Tim and Phil Hanseroth, and a cello player, Carlile was able to take the jam-packed, noisy, busy hillside into a quiet, intimate environment. There’s such a danger that songs so passionate and personal are going to get lost in such an environment, but Carlile won everybody over with her humble rootsy charm and powerful vocals.

It didn’t hurt that she sprinkled the set with interesting covers. The show started off with a solo cello cover of a Metallica instrumental. Carlile tackled interesting songs like “I’ve Just Seen a Face,” “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” and “Mad World.” All of them became Brandi Carlile songs and blended in seamlessly with her powerful originals. She covered a lot of bases, pulling songs off of all 3 of her amazing albums. Her career has been short, but everything she’s done has been meaningful, and has proven that she is a talent that is here to stay. She deserves to be recognized as one of the finest female singer/songwriters going today, and I’m sure that her career will continue to prove that.

After Carlile was another show that I was eager to see, a concert by former Men at Work frontman Colin Hay. Those Men at Work records were the soundtrack to my youth. I lived for those songs, so it was with eager expectation that I first saw Hay solo at the Edmonton Festival on one or two of my previous visits. In concert, he is amazingly funny and charming. He mixes the Men at Work classics with some really strong solo material put out since those days. He has a couple of solo songs “Beautiful World,” and “Waiting for my real Life to Begin,” which rank right up there with not only the Men at Work songs, but some of my favourite songs of all.

Although I’d seen Hay before, this was my first opportunity to see him with a backing band, and the first since the release of some great new material. It all made for a real highlight of the festival, and a very fun end to a very entertaining day. Seeing the whole hillside sing along to “Down Under” was a lot of fun. Hay and the band played those 80s classics with all of the passion that one could muster out of songs that Hay has had to do during every show over the past 25 years or so. When I saw him solo, it seemed like Hay was going through the motions, doing the obligatory hits, but with the band, he seemed to actually enjoy doing the songs. It almost made up for me missing the Men at Work concert at the Winnipeg Arena in the 80s, because I was too young to go.

And so ended another very long, very full, very enjoyable day in Edmonton. Tomorrow would be the last of this trip, and there was much to look forward to.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Last 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.

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

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.