We took advantage of our early arrival by finding and settling into the perfect campsite before the festival officially launched. Ray Wylie Hubbard, the first act on our docket, cracked open the Woods Stage with his stories, jokes, and perfectly aged country blues. His voice filtered through the trees, guiding listeners to the hay bales fanning out like church pews into the forest before describing a woman who had once threatened to melt down their wedding ring into a bullet if he didn’t kick his habit. “This song’s about gamblin’,” he forewarns.
The pursuit to not miss a single set commenced a half-hour later as we hiked down to the main stage and saw Mt. Hood poking its pointy head up above some earthy hills in our foreground. We also could see that Ages and Ages had started playing before Ray Wylie Hubbard even finished (Sorry, Ray! You rock.). A vast musical landscape was opened through seeing these two bands back-to-back. Ages and Ages members were as decidedly young and fresh-faced while Mr. Hubbard was a long-established AARP member. The comparative young’ns took to hand claps, call and response, and happy harmonizing - endearingly flaunting their formative years in real-time.
Next, Mike and Ruthy (formerly The Mammals, of New York) broke-in the Galaxy Barn, and proudly announced that they had been “hearing about Pickathon forever” and were ecstatic to have been invited to play. Their folk-roots love songs fell on welcoming ears and their inclusion of a toddler playing miniature steel guitar for one song positioned them as a perfect fit for this kid-friendly festival.
Back in the wilderness, Old Light lit up with lively Americana jams like “C’mon” and a couple of early-hatched Pickathon reminiscences about falling down drunk the night before and debating whether some trail-side ferns could provide ample sleeping conditions. As much as I love these guys, I didn’t get too choked up when left their set early; they’re local and I will definitely be seeing them play MusicFestNW in September.
I was shocked at how many people passed by as I hoofed it over to see the Fruit Bats (they who resemble neither fruits nor bats) were blowing musical kisses to a multitude of bouncing fans. Having just released a new album, they were visibly geared up to perform its contents and the highly loveable sing-a-longs like “My Usual Friend” and “Tegucigalpa” that live in the last one, The Ruminant Band.
I ducked in to catch the Black Lilies who played to a room of long-time fans and a few odd stragglers. I had never seen, only heard of, The Black Lilies; and what a shameful realization this was! Maybe it was the buzz of their numerous fans, but this band seemed to have a finger on the pulse of traditional-country lovers.
Another hike across the Pendarvis campus brought me to Elliott Brood and his band who were playing an early evening set. After seeing the raspy-voiced Canadian play Pickathon last year, I was determined to catch both of his performances. He expressed appreciation for the mild weather, having just come from Ontario, where it was unbearably hot. As far as impassioned audience dancing goes, this guy got the gold star. Some smart foresight prompted him to hand out pie tins for the front row to bang upon for the entirety of the set; which they did ecstatically until the end of “The Banjo Song.” This was an encore performance for which the audience fought briefly, but diligently for.
Bill Callahan, introduced as “the main course”, granted us some contemplative cowboy poetry accompanied by minimal instrumentation. Sadly, the main course was insubstantial and led to many people trickling off politely to more upbeat environs.
Alas, upbeat environs presented themselves soon enough in full rock-and-roll ecstasy. The The Buffalo Killers, clad in unassuming ‘normal dude’ disguises blew me away with operatic vocals, ‘holy cow’ jam sessions, and phenomenal guitar and drum solos. These guys were by far my favorite newly-discovered band at this year’s Pickathon. Do NOT miss their show if you are a classic rock or blues fan and are lucky enough to have them play in your area. Incredible.
The highlight of my evening, however, was Pokey LaFarge and the South City Three. They played in the exact spot where I discovered them three years ago; the Starlight Stage. As one lady observed, “Boots and suits” were obligatory attire for the boys as they belted old-timey St. Louis-tinged ragtime and jug-band ditties about Cheatham County Chitlin (pig intestine) cookin’, stickin’ out our cans for the garbage man, and how to ‘Pack it Up!”
After I was absolutely sure Pokey wasn’t planning on either doing an encore performance or proposing marriage to me, I packed it up for a late-night performance by the Grammy nominated Pine Leaf Boys. By this point, the only music going on was going on there, which meant everyone was jammed into the tiny barn until literally squeezed out the door by the heat. Regardless of space constraints, and to my utter disbelief, several couples were ballroom dancing. The up-tempo Cajun music they produced, led by Wilson Savoy’s wild accordion playing was remarkable, but after Pokey, I was ready to wind down.
Fortunately, Califone provided a ready and willing pillow for my sleepy head to fall on once I myself was squeezed out the door. Their meditative, experimental sound was an outlier in a heavily populated graph of traditional stompy American music. At this point I realized that Pickathon was branching out – way out. A projection of marred images in a trippy high-speed, time-lapsed video mesmerized a small crowd of late-nighters as we sat on the dry grass and glided carelessly into the early morning hours. Already, I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise.
