Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Days

September 30-October 2

These are the days I block out every year for this event, and this event only. No birthdays, or other commitments. A renewal of meaning, and faith found in songs of sadness and sorrow. Faith in spirit and the beauty of life.

Some observations:

This year had the sunniest weather from Friday on to the end of Sunday's close. When it seemed to begin to chill about 4:30 on Sunday with the first gray skies, the sun pushed through not long after. For the first time for Hardly Strictly, not a sweater or coat was needed for the entire festival.

Although it was a chore to get them into our possession through negotiation with the Parks and Recreation Department, the Friends and Family passes that we won in the school auction made a large difference in the enjoyment and comfort factor for this family. It allowed us access into less crowded, closer to the stage areas and in the big Banjo stage set-up, shelter and free food and beverage. One of the drawbacks at this event for us is the abundance of enveloping and penetrating smoke but in the Friends and Family spots, we were free of this. At the same time it should be noted that last year with hundreds of thousands of people in attendance, there was only ONE arrest. Mostly because the event does not sell alcohol, and that people, doing whatever they need to relax themselves, are mostly relaxed.

friends and family tent area, Banjo stage

Volunteers also receive a Friends and Family pass for the weekend, for just volunteering for a four hour shift. Each pass is good for one child (which we didn't know until later). I had made a deal with another family that I observed bidding against us during the auction and feeling a little guilty about raising the bid as soon as she walked away, I proposed that we split the passes (later we ended up getting more).

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass is an unusual special festival; paid for by one man as his love letter to San Francisco and musicians. Without advertisements, the hard sell or promotion machine in

place, it lacks (and does not desire) the hype and media that other events court. It is not used as a corporate Public Relations tool that for example, Jazz Fest in New Orleans is used as (no complaint against the musicians here)- where the polluters of the waters and land- the oil companies are the sponsors of Jazz Fest.

Reunion: I last saw two of the performers nearly 30! years ago. Chris Isaak is worth seeing just for the crazy clothes he wears. In 1982 I saw him play a room at SF State when he was in a band called, Silvertone, the first time I was taken with "Blue Hotel". Isaak said HSB was a great gig noting the wonderful weather and the location being just two blocks from his house.

His vocals carry the flourish of Elvis and the sweet nuance of Roy Orbison, except oddly, when he sings an Elvis song. My other brief reunion, Bob Mould playing an energetic solo set . The sunshine was in contra st to dark room of the former I-Beam on Haight Straight, where he played as a member of Husker Du. Once night at the I-Beam the buzz was that Rock Hudson had been in the club the night before. The beginning of those days.

Robert Plant with his amazing front line of Patty Griffin (she can belt 'em out) and Buddy Miller. Plant is in fine form having a great time dedicated to the songs and still occasionally wailing in the sustained Led Zep way of yesterday. When he does, the crowd is stunned and after, laughing with the band in a shared experience of the moment.

His set is powerful and joyful. Plus, knowing that he enjoys the spirit of the fest, he shows up at Patty Griffin's set on Saturday and at 1pm at Buddy Miller's on Sunday. Buddy Miller, as unselfish and skilled musician as there can be was thanked by Robert Plant as "the great Buddy Miller, savior of my legitimate career". Plant must enjoy this stage of his career, focused on music he has a passion for and no longer playing the poser rock star while fellow AARP bandmates play pointless guitar solos in their shiny white pants. Shortly after, Emmylou Harris bounds up on stage to sing with her Buddy. Miller's set, with and without guests is as good as any this weekend.

I enjoyed the scheduling of Ricky Skaggs very early Saturday, he of the tradition of the high lonesome harmonies and rocking mandolin playing- also of the crazy preacher hair and sweet

stories of his parents. Also the discoveryof the Swanson Family Band playing the smallest-Porch stage, obviously a little nervous and shy. This family band of five plus two neighbors were in California for the first time and stopped their show when they saw someone wearing a Swanson Family Band t-shirt in the audience- "how did you get that?".

From the jack-o-lantern command of a big Banjo stage and audience (sorry, I always think of the big friendly alien at the end of Close Encounters Of the Third Kind) Gillian Welch and David

captivate every year, to the big band sets of soul master Otis Clay or the tried and true rousing gospel of the Blind Boys of Alabama, to the New Orleans contingent of Irma Thomas and Dr. John (the fonk!), to excellent closing sets by Steve Earle and Emmylou Harris, viewing if only briefly of ex-customer Chris Thile and the Punch Brothers, hearing Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson (their set was too crowded for playing a smaller stage), warmed in the presence and continued existence of the Mountain Music master (his preferred term than Bluegrass) Dr.

Ralph Stanley to the great acts that I knew were present but couldn't/didn't see.

Playing ball tag with Dexter and Oliver and other kids that joined us. One boy came up with a clever idea of how to get the ball from Oliver by choking him. Handing Steve Earle some photos, sitting with family at festival close, kettle corn and roast corn, the long walks at the end of the day are immediate and lasting memories.

The last word spoken was a skyward shout by Emmylou Harris of "Hazel!" as memory to Hazel Dickens who died this year. Dickens, who along wit h Harris, were the only two performers that had been at every show when it began eleven years ago. Then, it was only one day, nine acts. This year, four days- around 90 bands. San Francisco's benefactor, Warren Hellman moves noticeably slower but his will stipulates that his children will carry on the tradition fifteen years after he dies. I'm hoping for at least twenty more years of this. The feeling I can equate it to is the feeling of the night when Barack Obama became President of these United States; a shared feeling of hope and joy, born from a history full of trouble and heartache.

these two pics courtesy Bob Cupp. Me and Cai and above, Uncle Pappy!