Review by Jordan Gill. Photos by Rich Gastwirt.
It’s rare these days to experience four days of uninterrupted relaxation and entertainment, without encroaching worries about real-life commitments and grown-up responsibilities, but if you were one of the lucky ones to attend the Tweed River Music Festival in Waitsfield, Vermont this past weekend, that’s exactly what you would have experienced. Nestled between the peaks of the Green Mountains, organizers Bow Thayer, Jeremy Curtis, Lori Bullett and Bob Schaffner created a musical utopia for their 1,000+ festival-goers, which included individuals from all over the country and ages ranging from in-utero to grandparents.
As a Tweed virgin, but avid festivalgoer, I was blown away by the unique sense of community and family that surrounds this festival; everyone knows everyone from past years, and despite the absence of the festival in 2014, and the relocation to Waitsfield in 2015, by the end of the weekend, I felt a true sense of belonging to this new legion of like-minded music-lovers with an appreciation for the outdoors, honest creativity and human connection. What makes this festival stand out from the larger corporately-funded festivals that are trending these days, is the quality of the music and the accessibility of the musicians. It felt as though at least half of the festival attendees were performing at some point during the weekend, and it was a rare and exciting opportunity to be able to share a beer and converse with an artist whose set I took in 20 minutes earlier.
Tweed un-officially kicked off on Thursday night for a small contingent of insiders, staff and musicians who couldn’t wait until Friday to crack a Heady Topper and get the weekend started. The crew was still finishing up construction on the set when the first artists took the stage. In the light of a nearly full moon alongside a blazing campfire, the small audience was treated to intimate performances by Cowboy and Lady, Julie Rhodes and the Union Band, and Dylan Sevey and The Gentlemen. Cowboy and Lady captivated the crowd with their clever story-telling, Tyler James’ intricate finger picking and Jess Power’s soft and smooth vocals. Julie Rhodes, a newcomer to the Boston music scene took the stage next, backed by her remarkably talented, mostly Berklee-trained bandmates. If you closed your eyes and listened to her powerful, gritty and soulful voice, you were transported back in time to the jazzy blues era of the 1960s.
As the sun rose on Friday at Tweed, festival-goers used the morning downtime to stock up on festival merchandise, peruse the local food trucks slinging such delicacies as pulled pork grilled cheese sandwiches and pan fried dumplings, and taking a dip in the Mad River swimming hole. As the camping and “glamping” sites were going up, Brian Barthelmes of Forts/Gainsville took the stage to get the festival officially underway. Barthelmes, an ex-pro football player and amateur tattoo artist, who inked up a few lucky music fans in the back of the Tweed bus later in the weekend, showed that he “feels a lot of feelings” and showcased his thoughtful and beautiful songwriting to an enamored audience. The boys of Handsome Jack were up next and looked like they walked straight off the set of Almost Famous; not a single piece of equipment on stage was less than 40-years old, and their rock ‘n’ roll conveyed a maturity to reflect their vintage set-up.
A personal highlight for me was witnessing Vermont-native Matt Lorenz, a.k.a. the Suitcase Junket, work his magic on his self-created rickety rig (made up of kick pedals, pots ‘n pans, beaten up cymbals, car parts and box of silverware and bones), while thumbing the strings off his guitar and mesmerizing the audience with his inhuman throat-singing abilities. Fan-favorites The Silks were up after Lorenz, and you really felt the pulse of Tweed when they took the stage, as the crowd started to fill out and the craft beers began to flow. White Dynomite turned up the volume as the sun started to set, and the energy reached new heights when the Curtis Mayflower, featuring festival-organizer Jeremy Curtis on the bass, brought it home and led into the Waylon Speed headliner slot, before turning over the late-night shenanigans to the Cannibal Ramblers, who after a dizzying set, fronted by Mark Milloff looking suspiciously like a pajama-clad Santa Claus and harmonica wizard Bryan Minto, closed out night two under a rare and spectacular blue moon.
The Silks
The only foul weather of the weekend rolled in Saturday afternoon in the form of a passing thunderstorm, and although the threat of electrocution and possible set damage necessitated unplugging Dan Blakeslee & Calabash Club for the majority of their set, Blakeslee’s infectious optimism, palpable positive energy and quick-thinking resourcefulness led to one of the best shows of the day. The audience took shelter from the rain under the main stage tent, and enjoyed a quiet acoustic performance from Blakeslee before he ducked away to retrieve a battery-operated amp and microphone from his car, which resulted in a rousing set-closer and the re-emergence of the sun from behind the rainclouds.
Smith & Weeden got things back on track after the storm, rocking out with the help of Ian Fitzgerald before the incredibly talented Christopher Paul Stelling took the stage, fresh off his Newport Folk Festival debut, and feeling ‘very fragile’ after a late night of partying. While he wowed the crowd with his raspy vocals, relatable songwriting and superior fingerpicking skills, Stelling seemed to visibly transcend to another universe while he played.
Right before Andrea Gillis delivered a killer set despite being super pregnant, festival favorite Joe Fletcher and the Wrong Reasons had the crowd getting down to their dark yet surprisingly danceable rockabilly jams. Fletcher, who looks like he was ordered up by a casting agency to fill the role of the quintessential ‘imperturbable rock star,’ is a refreshing combination of badassery and graciousness, and closed his set by inviting the other festival musicians to join him on stage for a touching tribute to the late David Lamb of Brown Bird.
Joe Fletcher and the Wrong Reasons
Bluesmaster, Tim Gearan took to the stage next, opening with his popular “City of Refuse” which had people literally running to the stage from their campsites. Pint-sized rocker Lydia Loveless followed, commenting that her outfit (comprised of a tight mini skirt, strappy heels and a backward trucker hat) looked like she was “trying out for Working Girl.” Saturday’s lineup was rounded out by festival-organizer Bow Thayer and his band, accompanied by the stunning and hypnotic belly dancers of the Sisterhood of the Silk Road, featuring Bow’s wife Lori Bullett. Thayer’s set was the record release of his new album “Sundowser” which is available now. The festival hit its peak attendance during his set with a packed crowd getting to hear many of the new songs as well as some old favorites. The ladies of No Small Children closed out the night, donning fantastically tacky prom dresses, killing it with their witty and satirical power rock set, and even inspiring Bow Thayer to make an encore appearance, appropriately outfitted in an eye-catching frock of his own.
Unfortunately the second, smaller “Campfire” stage, primarily designated for the late-night sets, had to be shut down after Friday night due in part to noise complaints filed by some curmudgeonly neighbors, but that didn’t stop festival-goers from breaking out the glow sticks and continuing to rage in the Silent Disco, manned by DJ J-Wall, who spun beloved 80s classics to a rowdy crowd of dance-hungry maniacs into the wee hours of the morning.
On Sunday I made my way to the main stage to check out Austin-based rocker Josh Buckley, followed by The Wiles, an impressive, multi-talented, all-female bluegrass group featuring tight soaring harmonies, clever songwriting, and an old timey vibe. The B3 Kings kept the grooves going, featuring guitarist Lyle Brewer and a guest appearance by Sunday headliner, Jesse Dee, followed by a reggae-rock fusion set from Spotted Tiger which had the audience on their feet dancing and rabidly snapping pictures of viola-player, Laurence Scudder’s enchanting lion-faced adult onesie. It was clear from the palpable energy during JP Harris and the Tough Choices, and the epic dance train that accompanied Jesse Dee’s closing set, that these artist were arguably the reason that so many festival-goers stayed through the end of the night.
As the festival staff began breaking down the stage, the majority of the crowd quickly scrambled to pack up their campsites and hit the road back to the civilization of Somerville, Providence and other assorted New England locations. In vehement ignorance and denial of the impending Monday morning, threatening to kill the Sunday-night vibe, the handful of remaining hardcore Tweed heads and exhausted musicians slowly gathered around the campfire, accompanied by an impressive plethora of stringed instruments, lit up one last blaze, reflected on the weekend, and played into the August night.
2 Responses
Great review! I felt like I was there.