The Mother Hips have been together for over twenty-five years. That’s something. That’s impressive as hell. When the Grateful Dead hit twenty-five years they were celebrating in stadiums filled to the brim with adoring fans. The Hips have “The Hipnic.” It was conceived by the band and founder of (((folkYEAH!))) productions, Britt Govea, nine years ago. There was never any doubt that this had to be a Big Sur event. Big Sur was central for the travelling fan base, it was central to the concept of “California Soul,” a genre of music The Mother Hips created, and it was physically central in this state that the band and it’s fans love so dearly. Big Sur, then, had to be the setting. The first year it was a two day event held at the Henry Miller Library on a fourth of July weekend nine years ago. It was clear that the event would outgrow the Miller quickly, and by year two The Hipnic found a home at Fernwood Resort.
The Fernwood quickly became as big a part of the warp and weave of this “festival” as the music. Imagine your arrival in an intimate, little campground with sites set beneath towering coastal redwoods, the Big Sur River bubbling and singing as it bisects the site. That clear, cold water that rapidly finds its way to the ocean is the playground for all the kids who alternatively splash in the water and then run up the banks, grab their bikes and fall into some kind of toddling biker gang. As you cross the bridge to the other side of the site, you see the stage all set up with perhaps the greatest backdrop in Rock n’ Roll spread out behind. A heavily wooded mountain that slides into a perfect Big Sur meadow. Here and there are cabins and more tent sites.
The music is always curated to fit the scene and, it does not take much to feel oneself slide wistfully back to a time when hippies wore cowboy boots and hats and more bands than not had a pedal steel player. It’s that mountain hippie vibe with a touch of coastal surf culture and both sides mingle over beers, heady weed, and barbeque (okay, and maybe the occasional whiskey snort or sip of Tequila). And this is how it has gone for eight years. This was a “festival” (the reason that word is in quotes is because, at this point The Hipnic is WAY more of an annual reunion than your typical music festival) that you put on your calendar without a thought. It was a thing that was automatic and the stoke built as the days and weeks brought happy fans closer.
Then Tim Bluhm, a Mother Hips hero, got into a bad speed flying accident that has laid him up, intermittently, for the better part of two years. We could have lost Tim. By all accounts it was close, but he has seriously persevered and hung on and really worked through probably one of the toughest stretches of adversity of his life. Due to his healing, this left Bluhm out of the band and this conspicuous absence was immense. But Hips fans found a way to deal, and, ultimately, Timmer was everywhere. Pictures of him beaming a smile were laminated and taped on sticks. These were passed out freely, and they found their way everywhere: stuck on the air scoop of a Volkswagen, born around the campground by the aforementioned kiddie biker gang, held high by fans who wanted Tim to know that he was there and that he was most definitely missed.
In his absence, his band mates were augmented by the righteous help of Jackie Greene on vocals and guitar and Jason Crosby on keyboards. When the band took the stage and settled in with a couple songs, Greg Loiacono got a text from Tim. Loiacono stepped up to the microphone and read the text to the crowd from his brother:
I can picture all of you out there in my mind. Smiling,
a little sun-burned, a little dusty, a little drunk with the
special energy of this place and this community we have
all grown together over the last eight years. Naturally it
makes me sad not to be there enjoying Hipnic 9 with
my band and with all of you . . . but I’ve learned to feel happy.
When I see other people being happy, other people doing things
that I want to do but can’t. If someone somewhere is getting
stoked then I’m getting stoked too . . . Get stoked for me.
It’s real now.
Then there was a moment in which the crowd had to face a strange and momentarily powerful “what if?” Loiacono stepped up and began singing the lyrics to a Bluhm penned standard entitled “Gold Plated.” It was a bit of a shock to hear Tim’s songs be sung by Greg (not to say it was at all bad, Greg, in actuality it was really beautiful and kinda cool) but here was a moment in which Hips fans, if just for a second, were shown what it might have been like if Tim had been lost in that accident. That sinking feeling quickly gave way to a rush of relief because Tim is still there. He’s resting in a bed, probably writing a song and gearing up for the next phase. Tim’s songs were also sung by longtime friends and collaborators like Jackie Greene, Grahame Lesh, and Kyle Field. These are guys that know Tim and his heart, they know where he goes for inspiration and where he digs lyrical gold. His songs were safe with them and they brought a freshness in their interpretations (but, Tim, can you come back soon please?).
But aside from that absence, Hipnic was amazing and proved itself to be as necessary and important for the core Hips fan base as ever. The music was punctuated by not good but absolutely brilliant sets played by Jackie Greene, Jonathan Richman, Vetiver, Little Wings, Chuck Prophet, Midnight North, Marty O’Reilly and the Old Soul Orchestra, Sensations, and quite a few more. There was the annual and much anticipated chilli cook off that found a reported festival rookie victory this year, floats down the river, and beers under the trees and in the sun (it was damn near 85 degrees this year!). Some returned from this year’s foray saying it was the best yet!
I’m going to break with journalistic tradition and talk about my own experience for a second. I almost did not go. Life has been busy, I have real responsibilities closing in and the best I could do was to eek out a day and night at Hipnic this year. As I drove, there was a moment that I almost exited the highway and turned around. I am so glad I didn’t. When I say Hipnic is like a reunion I mean it. I do not just count on it, I think my soul counts on it. I need that time. And I want to just say something to you. When something is really important, when it feeds you on a consistent basis, try, no matter what, to be there because when you think about it those are the moments that count. The high-fives, the hugs, the laughs, the shared experience. Those are the things by which life is really measured. Make time for those moments.
Thank you to The Mother Hips and thank you to Britt and the (((folkYEAH!))) crew, all the staff at The Fernwood Resort, the bands and, of course the best fans and friends in the world for creating a space in which everything good is celebrated.
