After 12 years, it's pretty clear that Pickathon has hit its stride. It's found the perfect balance of not being too big or crowded, but still significant enough to attract really strong acts. Even better, many of the bands play several times over the course of the weekend, on different stages. So it is that you could see Bonnie "Prince" Billy or Langhorne Slim in both the Shire-like realm of the Woods Stage on Saturday night, as well as on the sprawling lawn in front of the Mountain View Stage on Sunday. Michael Hurley showcased his ethereal falsetto at an early set in the Galaxy Barn Sunday and then in played an afternoon gig at the Workshop Barn accompanied by Lewi Longmire.
Looking over the schedule proves that multiple sets are the norm rather than the exception. The musicians are here to play -- for the audience, each other and themselves. It all feels so removed from the idea of air-dropping in some band for a 45-minute set between tour stops. At festivals, the lineups are often so packed that a band's set is significantly shorter than it would be at a headlining show. The extended-stay nature of Pickathon creates a relaxed atmosphere that allows the musicians to enjoy the setting as well as the music they're making. It's a departure from just another gig they're getting paid for.
Sam Quinn's set on Sunday proved that point. The Tennessean informed the audience that he'd wanted to get up to the festival, so he asked a few of his friends that were coming and arranged it with the organizers so he could perform. Dressed in black socks, moccasins, cut-off shorts and a bedraggled button-down shirt, he looked more like a summer camp whipping boy than a festival front man, but his music was pure A.M. radio country gold sounding like a cross between Bread and Graham Parsons. The attentive audience in the Galaxy Barn ate it up.
Nearby, T-Model Ford took the Fir Meadow Stage. Ford's getting on in years and explained before his set that due to health reasons, his arm gives him trouble and he "can't play like he used to, but that he still planned to try." He actually said this twice, which didn't bode too well, but his particular style of broken-down and rusty blues relies more on soul than technique anyway. He was doing just fine, thought the two middle-aged ditzy fans that jumped on stage to dance didn't need to be there, though it was during the song "Chickenhead Man," so maybe it made sense in the grand scheme of things.
As the afternoon waned, I poked my head into the Workshop Barn to listen to a bit of Hurley's second set. It was a perfect setting for him -- that aged hippie hipster who's been around since the days that festivals like this started. Must be nice to see the circle come around again. |
