I got to the festival grounds around 6:45, too early for Holy Fuck. I hit up the Subway stage anyway, and caught the tail end of the Brothers Chaffey. Most of the band members looked like they were having a blast(except for the keyboardist...maybe he was gassy), so they had that going for them. Otherwise they were an extremely generic blues bar band, cranking out songs people have heard a hundred times just enjoying a pint on the patio. The organizers of the festival seem to have a hard time grouping similar acts on the same stages.
In between the Brothers and Holy Fuck, I wandered over to the main stage, and caught a few minutes of Sista Monica entertaining a lawn chair crowd with some slow blues, and a bit of soul. Her stories were amusing, and the crowd responded in kind. She was having a good time despite the sweltering heat.
Holy Fuck took the stage about 15 minutes late because of how much gear they have to set up. The staunchy, 1987 haired radio punk didn't look happy about the delay, but he had just pushed for a Brothers Chaffey encore even though the audience was completely indifferent. So he had no authority to that scowl.
Some other radio goon introduced them, and took entirely too much pleasure in shouting out their name. As the boys shuffled up to their instruments, you could feel the uncertainly in the audience. Most people had no idea what was about to happen. I have a feeling the majority were there early for Iron & Wine.
Later in the night at Ben Harper, I heard a kid behind me describe to his friend "Holy Fuck...it was like we were just watching them jam." Which is absolutely the truth. I've seen them four times now, and despite playing all the biggest songs from their two LPs, they're just up there messing around. The most telling example were their expressions, ranging from happy to pure joy.
There is a specific smile that humans have when they're doing exactly what they love. Whether its gardening, playing baseball, or settling into a deep groove on stage in front of a thousand people, it's universal. Each member of Holy Fuck displayed those smiles at some point during the night, usually at the same time. The song would be slowly building to a peak, and every member was just loving it.
That energy transfered to the audience, who also seemed to be having a blast watching these four guys have the time of their lives.
Once Holy Fuck unplugged their last toy, we made our way over to the main stage to catch Ben Harper. We caught a few minutes of Metric on the way by. People rave about Metric's live show, and while I've never caught a full one, I've never understood the appeal. It's edgy music for people who live on the centre line. To each his own.
I was a Ben Harper newbie as we waded past a sea of lawn chairs that would be displaced very shortly. Both of the people I was with were old hats, and they assured me I was in for a good time. The Relentless7 "rocked," I was assured. And they did. Mr. Harper has assembled himself an extremely talented band that bend and twist to any genre he needs. There was hard rock(including a zeppelin cover), folk, blues, and maybe even a bit of country. The band kept up at every step of the way.
If I had to have a complaint, the band was too polished. Too refined. It might just be in the wake of the Black Keys of the previous night, but it seemed too clean to be "real" rock & roll. Just the Relentless7 though, they seemed like studio players. Guys who get paid for clean notes.
Harper himself bleeds music. The notes he coaxed out of his guitar, either standing or sitting, were just filthy. I've never seen someone rock out so hard with his ass in a chair. And he deserves major points for that. I'll see him again, next time he's in town.
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