[Our fearless team, Ben Piper and Michael Spencer spent three days in beautiful Oxford, Maine, checking out the first (hopefully) annual Nateva Music Festival. With over 50 bands spanning genres of indie, folk, alt-country and reggae, the festival had a little something for everyone. Check out all our coverage here.]
I can't claim to be a jam band enthusiast. I've seen Phish twice, and that's about where it ends. But they're out of the festival circuit this summer, and you'd be hard-pressed to put together a more potent jam-friendly lineup than at this year's Nateva festival.
Best Band to See on ADD Medication: Umphrey's McGee
This sextet jam outfit from South Bend, Indiana kicked into an immediately recognizable electronic jam sound which struck me as delightfully Phishy. Umphrey's music is a clever mish-mash of jazz, rock, and reggae, held together by quick spurts of guitar licks and experimentation with different time signatures. Many of the progressive tunes could be categorized as math-rock; my brain and my feet were often at odds in my attempts at the elementary step-touch. Umphrey's keyboardist interchangeably slipped to and from a red Nord synthesizer and a warm organ, bringing fresh textures to the jam-scape. Though all the musicians displayed immense skill, the drummer's crisp, controlled fills over tempo shifts and inventive beats emphasized the strength of the rhythm section. In all, Umphrey's held my attention for the duration of their set, but the spasmodic nature of their music ultimately made it difficult for me to latch onto in any lasting fashion.
Best Integration of Rock and Jam Genres: moe.
moe. has been around for decades, and having experienced the high-octane energy of their show, I can understand their longevity. The late-night set ran for two and a half hours, which might have been trying for a moderate jam-band listener such as myself, but their tight, groovy tunes plowed ever-forward from beginning to end. Front man/bassist Rob Derhak shook his mane from his face as his hands danced the fretboard, two percussionists supplied off-beats and marimba fills, and dual electric shredders found a way to work symbiotically without ever stepping on each other's toes. I've come to expect some manner of keyboard in the jam genre, but the electric guitar interplay was so sharp that I never missed it. These jammers have also mastered the eruption of three-part harmony after returning to structure from improvisation, and their light designers are in on it, too. moe.'s sound is big; bigger than a more deliberate outfit like Phish, and more epic sounding than Umphrey's McGee. moe.'s attire was easily the most formal of the jam bands, but these guys play with such professionalism that the line is blurred between black suits and tie-dye.
Biggest Surprise/Aptest Band Name: The McLovins
This trio of teenagers from Hartford took the stage at Nateva's small indoor venue, the Port City Music Hall. Needless to say, I was skeptical to depart the deep reggae grooves of John Brown's Body to catch the second half of their set, but the buzz was substantial enough that I thought I'd give them a shot. I'll say this: there's no saying what kind of future these kids have in store, but their energy and instincts are on par with the best of the jam bands at the festival. Fifteen-year-old Jeff Howard relentlessly thrashed his electric guitar like a true virtuoso, embodying both the aesthetic of Superbad's McLovin and the aplomb of Phish's Anastasio. It was hard to believe that these children were making all this noise, and moreover, that it sounded so good. The McLovins departed the stage to a monstrous roar from the audience and hands thrust in the air, thirsty for more of their fresh flavor of jam. Upon their return, they treated us to a cover of “Tweezer,” a rousing staple from the Phish catalogue. It remains to be seen whether these kids can become more than a cover band or Youtube sensation, but if the response they got is any indication, they've got a long time (or at least their adolescence) to figure it out.
Band Most Evidently on its Last Legs: Furthur
What belongs here is not a review of the show but an examination of the counter-culture analogous to the Deadhead ethos. I foolishly thought that Deadheads were a thing of the past, but was wrong in a big way. Though the matted, sod-ridden throngs aren't going to like my assessment, Furthur is essentially a hyper-glorified cover band. Phil Lesh has spry fingers for a septugenarian, and his non-traditional style is still intact. Guitarist Bob Weir is buff, and has good chops for a geezer. The bottom line is that there's something inherent in the music and message of the Dead that its faithful followers will never let go of. Let this not be an indictment of those who continue to play the music of Jerry Garcia, or the lifelong fans who will follow whichever iteration is offering the familiar fare. The esprit of Deadheads is a wonderful thing – there were moments during hits like “Ramble on Rose” and “Casey Jones” when I wished I had the lyrics committed to memory so I could sing along with everyone else. The music, which stylistically stands alone, was great. Furthur has recruited some young talent to fill out the iconic guitar solos, spirited key tinkling, and warm organ mashing. But at the end of the day, this was a show for the Furthur faithful, and in many cases, just another show until the next one. I regret to admit that my views of life and music remain unshaken after my first dead show, though I do have a newfound respect for the lysergic appetite of some new colleagues.
