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Reviews Byron's Bluesfest Tuesday, March 25, 2008 Mark Doherty paid his 18th visit to Byron's Bluefest and enjoyed...the blues!
BYRON BAY BLUESFEST 2008
(The 19th Annual East Coast Blues & Roots Music Festival)
By Mark Doherty
Twelve hours after the last music has faded behind me in the long trudge back to the car, my brain and body still cry out for rest. But as with every one of the preceding 18 bluesfests, my bean is still buzzing with the amazing sights and sounds of Easter in paradise. Time to unscramble the experience and put some thoughts down.
I remember Bluesfest at Belongil Fields back in the early 90s, but this was way different. The move from the cosy confines of Red Devil Park back to the verdant expanse of Belongil (about 2km inland from Byron Bay) has been a liberating one. Away from the crush of the moshing zones fronting each stage, there is room to move, there are places to sit in shade, to eat, drink, even to talk without yelling. Luxury!
The cost is a significant amount of walking if you want to move from stage to stage, but another benefit is less noise bleeding from one venue to the other. OK, enough, lets talk music. This festival is now many festivals in one. It’s your choice. It can be a pop festival, a world music festival, a funk’n beats fest, even (yes) a blues festival. My artist choices reflect my primary taste (blues) so don’t be offended if your personal faves don’t rate a mention.
I missed days one and two, and due to the fact that headline acts are now farmed out to splinter festivals around the country, I had to sacrifice the chance to see Buddy Guy, Keb’ Mo’, Mavis Staples and Seasick Steve (among others). Mind you, I was amply rewarded by the acts I did see.
For Saturday I parked my butt mostly at the Jambalaya Stage – the third venue in size (but close to tops in sound production). 80 year old Tommy Brown, with his Count Basie-style admiral’s cap, was testifying, telling it like it is, to an enraptured audience who were hearing how a slow blues can be hilarious, uplifting and mesmerising. Brown was fronting the revue-style Music Maker Foundation band, with the reliable Artie and Sol in the rhythm section, ex-Ink Spot Eddie Tigner on keys, Albert White and Tim Duffy on guitars and Little Joe on trombone ( previously with Junior Wells and BB King). This was a band with experience.
Next up were two solo artists who know how to command a stage and an audience. Guy Davis combines homespun folk tales with a riveting vocal delivery and an arsenal of guitar, banjo and harmonica that brought an even bigger crowd back the next day. Following Davis was one of the finds of the festival. Our lovely online editor Mr Wise lived up to his surname when he recently heaped praise on Ruthie Foster. Superlatives are simply inadequate in describing the phenomenal power of this young woman’s gospel inspired performance. Combined with a warm, open personality, her singing, aided only by her own fairly simple acoustic guitar, and with flavourings of Sam Cooke, Mahalia Jackson and Bob Marley, left a large part of the crowd very moist around the eyes.
At 6.45, after a trek across to the Crossroads stage, we were rewarded with a stunning performance by the Jools Holland Rhythm & Blues Orchestra. His instrumental arrangements reminded me of seeing the Duke Ellington Band in the early 70s. Modern PA systems can turn a trio into a big band, but there is nothing like the power generated by a large horn section in full flight. Time raced by as the inveterate mumbler Holland made incomprehensible introductions (as on his TV show), but delivered big time with stunning piano work and a parade of effective vocalists in styles ranging from blues, jazz, ska and r’n’b. Nice one, Jools.
Other delights on our first day included the hard-rocking Angry Tradesmen, featuring Rob Hirst on drums with Dom Turner and Martin Rotsey on guitars, the ever-funky Jon Cleary, and Charlie Musselwhite, sounding as good as I’ve ever experienced, with his well-worn vocals and inventive harmonica, combined with the gutsy guitar of Kid Andersen.
Sunday could not compete but still delivered a few delights. I should add that Byron turned on the best Easter weather that I could remember, and the sparkling beach lured me away from the early acts (sorry guys). We settled in just as Melbourne’s rootsiest blues-groovers Collard Greens and Gravy completed their quality set, enjoyed a second dose of Guy Davis, and then sneaked away from Chris Wilson and Shane O’Mara’s rather downbeat set to get revved up by the loud and obnoxious Angry Tradesmen. Finger-picker Fiona Boyes, now a US resident, manages to re-invent herself for each bluesfest appearance. This year she was in acoustic trio mode with doghouse bass player Tom Brill and mandolin picker Rich DelGrosso for a suitably relaxed late afternoon set.
Brisbane-based Mojo Webb and his extended band, with JB Lewis on second guitar and Dillion James on organ, set the APRA stage alight with some incendiary blues power. The multi-instrumentalist switched between open and straight tuned guitars, harmonica and tenor sax, while maintaining an impressive energy level.
I confess to a soft spot for Melbourne retro sixties pop trio The Basics, and they delivered a strong set at the APRA stage, with some surprise reggae influences creeping in to recent compositions. Basics drummer/ vocalist Wally deBacker hit the Mojo stage later that night as Gotye, but we were sitting through Japanese Taiko drummers GOCOO + GoRo (not as good as our own Taikoz) in order to have a good seat for Maceo Parker. The legendary tenor sax funk pioneer started with a rather noisy and messy selection, but settled into some solid funk grooves for a satisfying conclusion to our second day (and the festival’s day four).
The lure of sun, sand and surf meant that our first act on Easter Monday was the McClymonts at 3pm on the Jambalaya stage. These three sisters from Grafton are setting the Australian country music scene alight with catchy pop-country tunes, fine playing on guitar, bass and mandolin, and simply sublime harmonies. Their bluesfest debut last year was fine, this was finer.
We stayed in country mode for Troy Casar-Daley. Despite his high profile, I don’t think I’d ever seen him perform live. His set was a revelation – an easy-going mix of strong original songs, great rhythm playing and flashes of seriously good lead guitar from Troy.
More country! The Lost Dogs is a covers band featuring Kasey Chambers, her dad Bill and her hubby Shane, all on guitars and swapping lead vocals. It’s probably heresy to say this, but Kasey’s voice has the same effect on me as a dentist’s drill. Having said that, their song choices were impeccable, harmonies on the money, and Bill’s lap steel a treat, but my jangling fillings chased us to the Mojo tent.
Our strategy was to sit back for the stunning acoustic guitar duo Rodrigo y Gabriela, move forward for KT Tunstall and then make a dash for the front, to stand in the crush for half an hour in the hope of a good spot for John Fogerty. It worked. The crowd for R y G was enormous, and we watched most of their set from way up the back on the big screens. It was electric. Flashing hands on Spanish guitars banging out irresistible latin rhythms, startling dynamics and great audience involvement. Wow. I knew nothing of KT Tunstall (call me a luddite, call me old), but her inventive, rhythmically interesting pop and a good band made the wait worthwhile. But hey, we were there to see the Creedence man. John Fogerty did the impossible. He wrote insanely infectious pop songs that were both simple enough for every beginner guitarist to play, yet were rooted in traditional American music forms that gave them integrity. And like Beatle songs, once you’ve heard them a few times, you can sing all the words!
Fogerty played for a solid one hour forty-five, and I mean solid. No rambling stories to let him catch his breath, just one classic song after another. All the hits, just as you remember them. The voice was strong, the guitars sang, and the man jumped around the stage like a teenager. A proud dad, he brought two young teenage sons out on guitars to join him in front of this massive, adoring mixed-age audience. Nobody was disappointed. It was a triumph. And we were four back from the front, centre stage, covered in dust , sore and tired, and deliriously happy. Thank you bluesfest.
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