Master Musician's Festival

Here It Comes

That time of year is rolling around once again when the most important thing in Pulaski County becomes (drum roll please) 'THE MASTER MUSICIAN'S FESTIVAL.” My anticipation of this august (adjective, not month) event began its rise some weeks ago when I started planning for the weekend of festivities and renewal of old friendships. It is sad when funerals become the main occasion for gathering with friends and the festival offers us an opportunity to do this without too much of the grief. Of course, one of the things I do at times like this is recall the ones who shared my life who won't be there this year. I try to keep the memory of how much they loved this festival and the music and it brings it into perspective.

I have several things I want to do this year, chief among them is not losing my camera. I lost it last year but fate returned it to me minus the photos on the card which had been deleted. But that same camera will be making the journey this year, hopefully with a better plan.

This festival was begun by some people with whom I had associated quite a bit but in its formative years I was not present due to some life changes I had going on at the time. I picked up on the festival again in 2000 or 2001 and have missed only one since then. I started basking in the memory of some of the moments that really stick in my mind and thought I might share some of those memories. Mind you, these are not necessarily the shining moments nor the best performances but just some that I recall.

The Amazing Rhythm Aces over at Somersport. A hot July night and there were some just enormous moths doing their thing by being attracted to the lights. They totally bombarded the band. The front man remarked that this was the first big bug venue they had played, that they usually got the “so hot you sweated til your clothes were soaked” venues. Eddie Pennington, who is not an insignificant guy, and his watermelon themed Hawaiian shirt. I learned about “chickin pickin'” Southern Sun and their bluegrass rendition of Pink Floyd's “Comfortably Numb” left me speechless and very impressed. I watched Doc Watson's grandson, I think, struggle with the microphone stand trying to loosen the nut. Doc said, “here, let me get this old sawmill grip on it” and handily loosened it. Vision may have faded but the sawmill grip was still there. I was just in love with Zoe Speaks and the music of Mitch and Carla. They are still making music but not in that combination. Sometimes certain mixes just spark a piece of magic. Jonell Mosser and her brand of blues and the voice that was the sweetest thing since Janis Joplin. She always talked about Townes Van Zandt but she had the soul of JJ. The Bob Margolin band brought a touch of Muddy Waters to Somerset and that will remain the closest we will come to seeing that blues man. Imagine my surprise when some doctors and their ensemble got up and performed very well. I recall a thoroughly sweet rendition of Neil Young's “Harvest Moon.”

The Avett Brothers were a coup. Right after our festival they went viral and hit the big time. Probably won't see them again for a while. I totally missed the call on that one. I did not even know who they were but the kids started showing up well before their set. I wondered what was up and when the band came on I was startled by the antics and what seemed to be shouting in tune. What amazed me more was that the kids knew the words to the songs and sang alone to every one. I was out of the loop on that one. I'm trying to do better.

I adore the Celtic acts. Usually they come from some remote place in Canada but you can hear echoes of our mountain heritage in their music. I get chills just thinking about the hundreds of years that tradition has been alive. Thanks MMF for giving it life. The old blues guys we got to see who have now gone on to that old honky tonk in the sky. What a thrill to have been in their presence. Pinetop Perkins was a million years old and he was the first person I heard refer to the upright bass as “the doghouse.” I thought he was just being funny but I've heard that reference several times since.

I really liked the Thursday night shows when people would dress up and go the the Center for a dash of culture. My first taste of a live orchestra was there with the Louisville Orchestra. Rachel Barton was there to play violin and I was dumbstruck. So that's what classical is all about, I thought. Ms. Barton left the strings of her bow in tatters. I was impressed. And to be in the presence of Odetta was a gift I would have missed if not for MMF and the classical night. She held me captive with her songs of the civil rights movement and of our traditional folk heritage. To think that she sang those songs with Dr. King is to share a piece of history. I really would like to see more of the kind of things that night brought us.

This is by no means a comprehensive tally, just a teaser.

My take on irrepressible anticipation.