Let's Call It Folk On Not Folk Festival - Newport 2021

My wife and I had a great time over the weekend of this year’s Newport Let’s Call it Folk On Not Folk Festival event. 

The Newport organizers decided to hold the festivities over six days rather than the normal three days due to COVID protocols and reduced capacity.  

Yet, some people in social media seem to forget what the Newport experience is supposed to be.

I've been reading several posts complaining about the weekend vs the weekday lineups, not enough dancing, somber moods, scheduling snafus and miscommunications, that things could have been better, that it should always be six days now, the music was too loud, too soft, not real folk. An entire myriad of supposed slights. My suggestion to the powers that be is to let all this roll off their backs.

As I've said before, I had a great time this weekend. I don't have the discretionary money that some people have to spend on seven nights of hotels at the summer vacation rates of Newport. I'm not 30 anymore and I know six days is way too much no matter how much hydrating and  sun screening I do. 

I got to hear and see some damn good artists perform some damn good sets. Randy Newman is older than me, and got into an argument with a fog horn playing the wrong key when it should always be in the key of G, which, in the words of Pete Seeger, is the people's key. Billy Strings paid tribute to Doc Watson and proved why he is the best damn flat picker in the country and why you don’t have to play loud, you just have to play. Jason Isbel said he loved the importance of the song writing of Newman. Margo Price paid homage to Joan Baez, Joy Oladokun paid tribute to Odetta. That connection to the greats of Newports past in always important. Shakey Graves may me cry on Friday. Jay Sweet could hardly get through his speech about the Prine Scholarship. In short, there were more than enough Newport moments for me.

Usually I discover a new artist about whom there is little if any buzz or popularity, someone I didn’t know existed. There are a lot of artists I’ve never heard of.  Sometimes they are known and popular with other people. Groups like Dawes and Deer Tick were on a lot of New England radars before I ever heard of them. But there are others like Kaia Kater, Kyle Craft, Lankum, Cimarron, Christopher Paul Stelling. This year Joy Oladokun was that someone I never heard of, but, in typical Newport fashion, was immediately entranced. 

My wife and I were asked to busk this year. Yes, there were some hiccups as this is the first time they were trying it. I don’t know if they will continue or how. I have suggestions if they ask. The fact is that someone suggested us as buskers and they asked us. As Wattle & Daub we got to play two full sets on the steps of the Museum. We were thrilled. We remain grateful to Chris Funk of the Decemberists for his recommendation. 

They asked if we wanted to play on the Quad or on the steps of the Museum. The choice was easy. The Museum is where we spend most of our time. It holds what has become known as “For Pete’s Sake.” It’s the smallest stage with the biggest heart.

All in all it was a good weekend. Some are saying the weekday lineup is better. I don’t know. I wish we could have stayed for the Christopher Paul Stelling set, but like I said … discretionary spending is seemingly unlimited for others. I honestly don’t know what the beef is or why.

As much as Newport charges for hotels, services, etc. one must remember that when everything was cancelled last year, people lost money. Waiters and waitresses didn’t get tips. Venues like Jimmy’s Saloon no longer exist. The hotel we’ve stayed at the last two times is not a chain place. It’s family owned and operated. Having a year without income was particularly hard, and it was only because they had another income source that they were able to make it through the pandemic. This year was hard on a lot of people.In the grand scheme of things, these complaints about lineups, this whining, is meaningless. It’s just people whining and complaining. The musicians and workers whose lives depend on the money generated by the festival needed the weekend probably a lot more that those attending. 

The Newport Foundation helps music education. They do good work. That’s what is important. Whether I got to see somebody, whether somebody else did on Monday - Wednesday doesn’t matter. People are still hungry. War still exists, Climate is still changing. People still get shot. All the problems of the world and our country didn’t go away over the weekend and they sure as hell ain’t going away over the week day events. In the grand scheme of things, petty complaints don’t mean shit. I believe the people of the festival and its foundation know that. Everyone in the music business is relearning what to do, when, how, and what people want to hear. The people at the festival are no different and whatever mistakes they may have made this year, I am sure they will learn from it.

My wife's dad passed away before the festival. Because we were doing a small tour, I drove our gear out to Newport and attended Friday alone. She flew in on Friday night. We busked on Saturday and Sunday.

We want to thank Chris Funk for suggesting us as buskers. And we want to thank the people of the festival for having us. 

These are pictures of us busking on the steps of the museum stage. We had fun. We want to be inside that hallowed building again next year. Maybe even doing what we did this year. 

       

    

    

     

 

More Words in Search of a Place in the World

Today is Pete Seeger's date of birth. He would have been 102 this year.

He is still sorely missed. He believed the world will change if people participate. I believe that too. Pete got people to sing. That was his way. I like when people sing with me and my wife. It's our way and the audience's way of participating.

Pete wrote songs. I write some. My wife writes some. Sometimes we write them alone, sometimes together. 

The writing process is in some ways easy and in others frustrating. Sometimes the words and melody come easy and quick. Other times it is a single line that comes and then ruminates and hangs around in the brain, getting lost in the shuffle of life only to arise unexpectedly a year later to say, "Here I am again, I belong in a song." These are simply such words and thoughts that might make it out to the rest of the world someday. Sort of still searching for a full melody to carry them off. Happy Birthday, Pete.

When I die, spread my ashes wide

Let winds carry me wherever they may blow

Don’t put me in a box or on a shelf inside

Take me places I have never been but want to go

When I die, throw my ashes in the air

Let the winds take me wherever they go

I still want to hear your voice

I want to hear your song

Sing it loud, sing it strong

Sing it when you need

to right all things wrong.

Farmers work the land

Workers take a stand

Raising the food we eat

Making things we need

And barely getting by

The bankers own the farm

They own the houses too

And barely getting by

Means that come each month, 

the interest is still due

The bosses pay the workers

As little as they can

It really doesn’t matter

If you’re white or black or tan

If we could raise the food we eat

And make the things we need

There’d be no need for bosses 

And bankers would be on their knees

The bosses ride our asses 

When we should be riding theirs

And the interest the bankers want

Shouldn’t be our worry or our cares.

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It’s gonna be a long summer

Marching in the street

Voting with our feet

It’s gonna be a long summer

===

When I die throw me the air

Let the winds take me

Wherever they blow

Or toss me in a river

And the water carry me

Wherever it flows

But it you choose to bury me

Let it be not so deep

So that I can rise again

And in your memory keep

Let us walk together

Hand in hand

Until the day comes 

When we no longer have to stand

And raise our voices loud

To right the wrongs we see around us.

===

How did we get so willing

To put up with all this killing

Ain’t it time

Ain’t it time

To learn to love our neighbors once again.

I’ve got this empty rifle here

I’ve got no ammunition

Nothing left to fight with

Except my wits and intuition

Can anybody tell me

Why this fightin’s keeping on

Ain't it time to lay our weapons down

Ain’t it time

It seems there are bodies everywhere

As we walk these streets alone

The blood that’s on our hands

The tears we’ve shed alone

Too many wounds have bled too long

Too many tears, tears of grief, tears of rage

Have led us all to this mournful song

Is this what we dreamt of

When we fought and won 

What we called our liberty

Is this what it now takes

Or are we no longer free

Are these weapons 

Another link in the chain of tyranny.