So go the lyrics to the one hit wonder Arthur Brown's wacked out experiment into the music industry. A somewhat awkwardly unforgettable and grating song from the post-Summer of Love fallout. Anything but awkward, yet definitely unforgettable where the annual fire performers at this
year's Mountain Jam festival. Awe inspiring in talent, beautiful in content and sensual in delivery (high on the sensual for the girls, high on the awe inspiring for the guys:-D). Although I didn't capture them during their full medieval sass garb display Friday night because I had packed my camera away for the day, I did catch this performance, in their "airport runway crew" look. Most likely because the temperatures dipped to the freezing mark that night, a few more clothes where in line, but the heat was still very apparent...have a look:-)
During the last week of May, it was time again for me and my Canon appendage to hit the road again on another "Road Trip". For the second time in less than 2 months I found myself back in the Catskills, this time for my usual Woodstock pilgrimage and a bi-annual visit to one of the best festivals in the North East U.S., the 5th anniversary of Warren Haynes' Mountain Jam. Situated halfway up one of the highest mountains in the region, at the Hunter Mountain Ski Resort, surrounded by spruce pine, and tanned by the sun and sweet spring breezes, Mountain Jam is a festival with grounding, conscience (ummm...maybe not taken literally, as with most festivals freedom of expression is openly practiced and consumption and morality could be taken in question, but in the blanket sense of the word:-)) , organization, location, and most of all good and highly accessible music, music, music! After a rainy beginning in Woodstock, the weather began to clear as we headed up the slim mountain road, past the eye so carefully carved on a cliff face, tears of moisture bleeding from the stone at its cusp, into the clouds and for a moment felt as if the road below disappeared into the fog surrounding us on all sides. Rounding a sharp hairpin turn and cresting the mountain we descended into the valley as the skies opened over the gathering tents on this morning approach to "The Jam". The only "walk-in" camping festival I attend during the summer swing, Mountain Jam offers (at the inconvenience of an uphill load-in and a burnt-out Sunday/Monday load-out) the freedom of open space, first come/first serve random peg down-tarp out ski sloped slumber. If slumber is what you choose, with 2-3 late night stages giving the jumped up energetic fans plenty to glow to until the blues begin to colour the black skies for a new day. Cool sun was on order for this years festival after a brief and ritual shower Friday and the fans soaked it up as much as the fine offerings of musicianship. This is a musician's festival, with a jam thrust. Headlined by The Government Mule, not only kicking off Friday night's camper's only festivities, but busting out another punching bag to close out the main stage on Saturday. A brilliant trio orchestrated by the scene's workhorse, Mr. Warren Haynes, the Mule, as they are affectionately known are not only masters of there originals, but a highlight of every show is there blown away covers of the best of the best. Selections from Hendrix "If 6 turned out to be 9", Stevie Wonder's "Superstition", Canada's own, Mr. Ronnie Hawkins with "Who Do You Love", Dylan's "All Along The Watchtower", Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love", and "When the Levee Breaks" an absolutely stellar tip of the had to Neil Young with "Cortez the Killer", but most memorable was the absolutely mind blowing rendition of "When The Music's Over" by Mr. Mojo aka the Lizard King, aka James Douglas Morrison. As seductive fire performers twisted, swirled and became at one with the music, the mountain became the garden, a 60's era time warp of epic proportions and one of those transcendent exuberant moments that brings me back and solidifies to me the power of live music.
From Tea Leaf Green's hippie ethos on "The Garden Part III"....
"Darlin' let's let our hair grow long We can work on a farm, maybe live on a mountain. I got an old hound dog, likes to run, He needs a lot of room and he hates to be chained up."
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be."
...as the clouds parted Friday afternoon, to Jackie Greene's power swagger on Velvet Underground's "Waiting For My Man" as I danced down the warm afternoon mountain after a gondola lift, to the Sunday brunch of BK3 (Bill Kreutzman's new project) hitting their stride with a all out crowd shifting version of "Bertha", to the hula hoop forest encoring Michael Franti's performance, that left me with a face breaking smile. From that high five to that knowing smile, from the open weekend friendship of a stranger to a familiar face and a realization of someone met at an event from year's past, life at festival is a patchwork of these moments. Leaving the mountain after The Allman Brother's soared with the always stellar "Soulshine" and I entered the parking lot, I looked up at the last rays of sun over Hunter Mountain and looked down to see a epitaph to the weekend made with gravel carefully placed on the pavement with a peace symbol, a heart, a smiley face, a sun, and a starry night. Simple, untouched and a perfect summation of a perfect weekend:-)
