Just after leaving Summercamp last year, I got a reminder of how short life truly is and, still basking in the good vibes from the festival, I swore to take each moment as precious and try and do as many of the things I loved doing as possible.  What makes me happiest is spending time with my friends and seeing live music, which makes the festival scene my home away from home.  So this year I'm setting out to travel a lot more and hit up as many shows as possible, starting with Summercamp 2009!

    Last year's Summercamp was my first and it was spectacular!  The venue is well laid out with no walk longer that ten minutes and the stages offer excellent sight lines.  Putting on one of these festivals is a massive undertaking and like last year, the folks at Jay Goldberg Events and Jam Productions have a lot to be proud of.  Several people I spoke to over the weekend said it was their favorite line-up of the summer.  moe. and Umphrey's McGee headlined as usual and performed up to the insanely high standards they have set for themselves.  They were aided by a robust supporting cast, featuring such luminaries as Willie Nelson, Keller Williams, Les Claypool, Cornmeal, Method Man & Redman and many more.  The stage was set and it was time to jam!

     Ever since catching Toubab Krewe for the first time last fall, I have been anxiously awaiting my next show.  A free-flowing sound that encompasses a world-wide range of instrumentation and percussion, their songs build organically to intoxicating climaxes, with head bobbers turning into full-on ragers in the space of mere moments.  The only way to force myself to move on was to remind myself that there's another Krewe set tomorrow.

     Growing into full bloom right before our eyes, Cornmeal has gotten strong and nourished by the love of their fans.  All weekend you heard the faithful proffering their devotion, and the first timers cheering them on.  What truly amazes me is their ability to play an old hillbilly standard and a full out psychedelic Floyd cover with equal bombast and authenticity.  The way they let songs ebb and flow show a mastery few can match. Every show they play adds a new fan for life.  Trust me on this one, as I speak from experience. 

     The wail of the saxophone reached out above the crowd as 56 Hope Road took the Campfire stage, like a thing of beauty.  You would be hard put to decide whether the band was feeding off the crowd’s energy, or vice versa.  Though the size of the stage was small, the band members broke out in dance, buoyed by their own sound, a mixture of funk, reggae and soul.  Special guest Jaik Willis brought the house down with a groove-tastic number that saw him spitting hot fire into the mic.  56 Hope Road might not know it, but with this set they sold me several tickets to future shows.

 

    Ever try going to sleep in a tent that has sat in a closet for 6 months, surrounded by screaming lunatics, while you are wired like a dozen sugar-rushed kids on Christmas Eve?  Three solid hours of sleep and I'm ready for Friday!  Since I am up so early I decide to see some sights.  It's so wonderful to come together as one, a family to be sure.  All united in our love of song and camaraderie.  Sharing the one thing together that's most precious, our time and tunes.  First on the agenda…

     That One Guy, another member of my "First Chance to See Them Club,” walks his own road and you'll thank him for it.  Playing instruments of his own devising, in ways of his own creation, he gives of himself in astounding degrees.  How can you not respect the ingenuity and audacity of a man taking a rosined bow to a strung metal pipe and creating such a funky sound?  Scoffers turned to cheerers and many an expectation was met and exceeded during the most original set of the weekend.

     Who is Buckethead?  Whoever he is, the lightning that shoots from his fingers crackles through his guitar's strings brings to life his own Frankenstein Monster of Rock!  He is a break dancing, nunchuck-wielding, guitar creature that exists only to blow your mind.  Though I missed the guest spot by That One Guy, I'm told it was a wild give and take which I can't wait to hear.  

     Say what you will about Girl Talk, the man can move a crowd.  Far and away the most dancing I saw from a crowd the whole weekend. Artist and audience were on the same page - "Let's Party!"  Stacking his music with layer upon layer of every song you have ever heard and packing his stage with boogie-footed festivillians, Girl Talk held court on Friday.  Thousands of people danced together as one, forming a bobbing, bouncing sea of bodies. 

     As the extra hour that it took for Method Man and Red Man passed...the cheers of “WU!” slowly turned to “BOO!” and even the most die-hard fans posted front row grew quite restless.  Finally taking the stage in a flurry of bobbing and weaving all the while firing lyrical bullets on full automatic, the rappers took the stage intent on busting shit up.  

     Missing most of Umphrey’s McGee's Friday set was one of the few regrets at Summer Camp 2009.  Having checked out Mantis, their latest disc, I found I really liked what I heard.  Their overall musicianship has taken a leap forward.  Only catching the end of their Friday night set was sad but what I did see was amazing.  By the time I had arrived the music was building to a furious crescendo and an incredible guitar duel turned into a free-for-all of musical explosions which left the crowd shell-shocked.  Just awesome stuff. 

   Coming out for their second set of the weekend, Cornmeal played a late night set at the repurposed Campfire stage.  An obvious improvement to previous years, the new stage saw some hot action this weekend and this set was among the best.  One funny thing did happen, though.  Being a true die hard I was attempting to multi-task during the show and was clearing off bad shots from my camera.  After several minutes of staring directly at my camera’s LCD I noticed a lot more lead guitar than Cornmeal usually has, so I looked up and, to my surprise, there was moe.  I was so lost in what I was doing that I almost missed the story going on right in front of me.  These split-squad, instrument hand offs are a tradition at Summercamp, and they're always a treat.  Finally having had my musical fill for the day, I took a very indirect amble back to get some rest for Saturday.

     My favorite discovery of last year, Chicago Farmer was near the top of my festival must see list.  His songs feature a warmth and a sense of humor that recalls Arlo Guthrie along with many other of the greats in the singer-songwriter genre, though he truly does stand on his own.  Featuring a sense of lyrical energy and quirky word play that can bring a smile to even the most jaded of music aficionados, his Saturday afternoon set was a highlight of the weekend.  Both alone with his trusty guitar and harmonica, and with special guest Jaik Willis (who was all over the place all weekend long), the mighty Mr. Farmer gave us an hour of good feelings and grins and that's always appreciated.  If he is ever anywhere near your hometown, I cannot urge you strongly enough to go.

     I think the only thing that kept Cornmeal from playing a 12-hour show was their commitment to play another festival on the left coast on Sunday.  It might seem weird to some of you, but after three excellent visits with them, I was jealous of that other fest’s attendees.  Five plus hours and I still wanted more.

     Entering what was for me at least, the sweetest stretch of the weekend I arrived at the Starshine Stage just in time to hear Keller Williams strum the first notes off stage.  The first time I saw him, it only took me three minutes into his first song to make me a lifelong Keller fan.  Since then I've caught dozens of shows in many incarnations, but he will always be a solo artist to me.  Displaying a breadth of talents that never fails to impress, he uses a variety of guitars, drums, and technological doo-dads to quickly build a whole band’s worth of backing music that he then plays on top of it.  Breezily poetic, effortlessly leaping from instrument to instrument, Keller gives you a true sensory experience.

     Ever since his star-making turn in "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey," I have followed Les Claypool through numerous bands, watching him perform with some of the finest musicians alive.  With tongue firmly in cheek and cheek often firmly implanted inside a mixture of masks and bizarre disguises, he plays songs of wit and witticism, tragedy and sorrow, a range of topics far beyond the average.  But through it all there is his trademark sound, a rumbling that rings out true no matter what he plays, from the four stringed bass, to the upright, even the magic Whamola, all pulse and quiver in a way that is uniquely Les.  His backing band was phenomenal and as they allowed him a chance to shine, he deferred to them in an obvious show of earned confidence. The sounds he makes and the words he sings have meant a lot to me over the years, and judging from the cheers of appreciation he received I am not alone.  I have to admire the fact that he performed so much of the show in a full suit.  It was freaking hot up there under those lights, but Les and his band dressed to impress.

     Taking time to eat and wander a bit, I met dozens of wonderful folks.  All weekend long I witnessed random acts of kindness and fellowship that warmed me to my core.  I come to these festivals not just have a good time but to recharge myself spiritually.  Just being around all these wonderful people gives me such a charge.  I heard random folks mention to each other how nice everyone there was more than a couple of times.  We were all of us together an engine that was running on pure vibrations, giving not to get but to enjoy the act of giving itself.

     In that spirit a group of folks approached the main stage before the big moe. finale for the day with an unusual gift for the crowd.  Some fifty people long when stretched out, they had obviously spent hours inflating and attaching together an enormous balloon chain that needs to be seen to be believed.  This kind of effort for no reward, other than the joy that they had brought to the crowd, is what makes it all so special.  As moe. kicked off Saturday night, the chain of inflatable love was thrown to the throngs, and there was much rejoicing.

     It goes without saying that moe. fans are a rabid bunch.  One fan stated matter-of-factly that this was his eighty-third moe. show.  All weekend long he was posted up front row rail, Al's side.  He shared my opinion that Al was on fire so far and hoped that he would go into his "Rock God" mode before the weekend ended.  Not twenty minutes later as I watched Al torture his guitar, producing the rawest, heaviest solo heard the whole weekend I stopped taking photos long enough to turn and catch that true moe.ron's face.  His look of bliss was and is priceless, a person right where the universe wanted him to be.  The photo pit is an interesting place to see a show.  Not only do you have the best seat in the house when it comes to seeing the band play, but you get to see the faithful, respecting each other’s spaces and singing along.  To every song.  Perfectly.  You have to be doing something right to inspire that kind of devotion 

     Now a dash to the barn for the late night festivities, including Family Groove Company presents "The Big Lebowski."  Coming from the city of Louisville, Kentucky, the birthplace of the Lebowski Fest, I understand the importance of the Coen Brothers ode to the Dude and company.  So when I read that the Family Groove Company was going to be producing a "mixture of skits and songs" from the movie I was pumped.  Recalling many screenings of “Rocky” which had featured live accompaniment I had an idea of what we were in for.  What I wasn't prepared for was how much I'd love this.  Oddly, the film clips made me jones to watch the flick again and the music made me wish the F.G.C would record the soundtrack over again, in its entirety.  Highlights included the Spanish language "Hotel California" and the dance cycle.

     Having already heaped such praise on Mr. Williams as a solo act, that’s not to say his brand of goofiness doesn't work with a band.  With Rob, Vinnie and Al from moe. and Joel from Umphrey's on keys, these Sexy Bitches had a fun, breezy chemistry that fit with my budding exhaustion well.  The playfulness of the music reinvigorated me and with no chance of sleep, I hit the crowd having a variety of unreportable adventures long into the night.  All right maybe not so much unreportable as unrememberable.  Okay, I remember a drum circle, and dancing.  Little else. After my doctor-recommended two and a half hours of sleep, it was time to face Sunday.

     Another first this year was the addition of a Sunday only ticket, most likely a nod to the struggling economy.  I was very excited to see it in practice, however, as I have tried in vain for years to entice certain friends to join me at one of the many summer fests, friends to beset by work and familial obligations to make a weekend of it.  The crowd seemed to rise by about 2 or 3 thousand on Sunday and it was fun welcoming the late-comers to the party with tales of what they missed and shared anticipation of things to come.

     Summercamp 2008 was my first contact with Madahoochie and it was a impressive introduction, to say the least.  Another fine example of people loving what they do, the members of Madahoochie played every moment of the set with more than a churning, groove infused sound but palpable feelings of love and caring, both for each other and the faithful, who gathered in ever growing numbers, belaying the bands early start time.  As the last notes faded I found myself thinking: this band deserves the big stage.  I hope they get there, and I hope I'm there to see.

     At the forefront of the live Bass and Drums Dub movement stands EOTO.  The wall of sound produced by these two men is many things at once: Danceable, Dynamic and Deep.  Somehow, in the maze of beats, samples and bass lines, a gravity emerges, an attraction that pulls you into their sonic tapestries no matter how hard you fight, but why would you?  Having played together in an obscure little band before their big break out as EOTO, they seem to take the responsibility they have to the listener very seriously.  How else do you explain the sheer volume of musical information they pack into each millisecond?  I ran into EOTO's Jason Hahn after their set and he seemed just as enthused to be playing with the String Cheese Incident as we are all looking forward to hearing another Incident and promised, "It's gonna be cool!"

     Another band hard to talk about without mentioning their pedigree are the Wood Brothers, featuring one third of the most jaw dropping jazz band on the planet, Chris Wood, alongside his brother, a force to be reckoned with in the southern bluesy style of guitar.  There is something to be said about family making music.  Though they grew up apart, now they are taking the opportunity to grow together on stage.

     The last of my must see first time bands for the weekend, Greensky Bluegrass hails from my one time home state of Michigan and are easily my favorite new bluegrass band on the scene.  Having heard many shows and seen multiple videos, I had a good idea what to expect.  The crowd was filled with twirling, arm linked dancers and lots of satisfied faces.  Again I'm struck by the fun varieties you can get at a festival, the bands that you would never in a million years find playing the same tour together now playing one after the other.  And it gives you a chance to see more bluegrass, which these guys have down pat.  Trading vocals and leads in the finest traditions of band mates they are separate parts, forming an earthy juggernaut of countrified pickin' and blistering jams.  Loved every minute of it.

     From bluegrass to the far end of the Reggae/Dub spectrum, there lies the Easy Star All Stars, a hybrid collective that all share in the love of the head bob, the search for the perfect groove, and probably a pretty crowded tour bus, from the looks of it.  Their music hit the crowd all at once, and the tired rose to their feet, and found it in themselves to dance in the hot sun.  But how could we not?  The beats were too infectious, the vibe too powerful to resist.  Some find their love of covers frustrating, but I find that if the band brings themselves to the song, and not the other way around covers can be liberating.  Watching someone take something familiar and making you see it in a whole new way can lead to fresh thought, and that can never be a bad thing.  Their late night take on Dark Side of the Moon was PHENOMENAL!  The most I danced all weekend.  Their reworkings made it something new that they shared with us, and the crowd was in ecstasy.

     It is a blow to me as a writer when I realize I'm just not eloquent enough, not capable of the syntactical gymnastics needed to properly glorify Medeski, Scofield, Martin and Wood.  Already my favorite jazz band on their own, when joined by the illustrious Mr. Scofield, they become something beyond the sum of their parts.  Though I love the wildly dramatic improvisation of which MMW is capable, when Sco joins them they become more cohesive, with the madness simmering just underneath, waiting to erupt at just the right moment.  All four have a mastery of their respective instruments that is a joy to behold, and a cherished pleasure to hear.

    With the media cycle being as accelerated these days, legend status can be anointed and stripped in less than a decade (cough-Kanye-cough) the chance to see a true legend such as Willie Nelson is rare and must be taken.  Receiving well earned props from moe., who stopped their set early enough so that not only did he run unopposed, but also so that everyone, including photographers had a chance to see the Red Headed Stranger live and in the flesh.  The voice is still there, a commanding tone rich with wisdom and strength, unmistakable.  The thing that struck me the most, being so up close and armed with a camera, was the presence of the man.  Alternately smiling and lost in musical focus, you could feel him there even with your eyes closed.  The Sunday ticket's biggest effect was felt here, as there were more people gathered to see Willie than I had seen at the Sunshine stage all weekend.  I saw children dance with parents and as he sang of that moment when he finally flies away, I saw some one cry.  That is the stuff of legends.

     After getting beaten near to death by the giant inflatable pool toys during moe.'s night sets last year, I wished they would start searching for those damn pool toys as a highest priority.  That might sound harsh, but you try getting knocked down five times by a giant inflatable shark sailing out of the dark and see how you feel.  But as usual, the universe was hitting me with the yin to set me up for the yang.  This year a piece of air-filled plastic dropped into my life in a far happier way than the glasses smashing way of the shark.  But I'm getting ahead of myself as usual.

     The weekend's line-up was stacked and packed and had left me thoroughly exhausted and elated at the same time, but for me, as always, Summercamp is about moe.  Few bands can play nine or ten some odd hours in three days and never let up, so lucky for us there's moe.  There's something about the diversity that they bring, all those different tools in their collective toolbox, that pushes them into my top echelon of bands.  Acoustic to electric, instrumental to quirky sing-alongs, they do it all, and do it all so effortlessly that you can't help but be amazed.  This year I had the opportunity to watch all five sets just feet away as I shot the festival and I can't tell you how many times I found myself transfixed by the wizardry of those five guys named moe.  The two headed guitar monster that is Al and Chuck, Rob's deft finger work (and perma-grin), and Jim and Vinnie, who seem to become more seamless and interlocked every time they play together.  Impressive from any spot but so close up it was like the world fell away.  The world was moe. and the world was good.

     So there I was during the Saturday night sets, in-between moments of melted face-itude, trying to capture and distill this spectacle in photo form when out of the sky it's a bird, no it's a plane.  Yeah it's a plane, an inflatable old school Pan Am 747 to be exact, sort of like they used to give kids on tours of the cockpits during long flights.  Plane crash completes my holy trinity of moe. songs along with Moth and Nebraska so I quickly saw a way to honor one of my favorite songs.  Finally managing to wedge the plane in front of one of Rob's monitors, I snapped a couple quick shots with Rob in the background and felt pretty proud of myself for being able to focus at all in the midst of my exhausted mind blown state.  After a while the plane vanished and jams went on, and that was that.  Or so I thought.

     So then it came time for a bittersweet moment for me, moe.’s last set of Summercamp.  Having had the time of my life all weekend I just didn't want it to end.  Sure, endings are important to life, as they teach us to appreciate the now and live in the moment and all that, but sometimes you have those instances that you want to live in forever and the weekend was definitely that.  So when they opened their final set with a bombastic intro to Plane Crash I went back to work shooting the show, my face aching from a grin so wide that it touched 'round the back of my head.

     While I was roaming back and forth one of the other pit photographers revealed the fate of the plane: he had stashed it under the stage to be broken out in case of a possible Plane crash.  The boys seemed delighted to see the plane and had fun flying it around and pretending to crash it several times, before letting it come to rest in front of Vinnie's drum kit.  The set raged with classics like Buster and my nirvana level was high when I realized that the plane would be the ultimate souvenir from this perfect weekend.  As the boys took the well earned props from an ecstatic crowd I tried to catch any of their eyes to ask for the plane.  Not hearing me, Chuck spied the plane and snatched it up and tossed it to the crowd.  Not really being designed for aerodynamic flight it, ever so appropriately nose dived right into the pit, almost at my feet!  The universe wanted me to have the plane as well, but there was one last hiccup.  Before I could even start to pick it up, one of the other photographers picked it up and offered it a young boy who'd hugged the rail with his family throughout the entire show.

     In that moment I was both a little disappointed at losing the plane, and a lot disappointed that I hadn't thought of giving the kid the plane myself.  As I internally wrestled with my own feelings of selfishness, he took one look at the plane, and with an expression that seemed to say "Why would I want this dirty inflatable plane?" he just dropped it over the rail, right back at my feet.  Grabbing it as fast as humanly possible I clutched it tight, my ultimate keep sake from my ultimate weekend.

     I left the stage, mementos in hand, secure in the knowledge that I had seen not just one of the best bands in the land do what they do, but also with a couple of reminders that there is some hope left for us all.  You can't ask for much more that that.  My thanks to the Sound crew, the roadies and the behind the scenes folks who made all this happen.  If I met you at Summercamp I thanked you, and if I didn't, please allow me this opportunity to say thanks once again.

Check Out More of Rex Thomson's Amazing Summercamp 2009 Photos

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Review & Photos by Rex Thomson