“NEOTENY, NEOTENY, NEOT— Oh how the Remington SL3 enjoys that word! Unrestrained, it would fill the page up with neotenyneotenyneotenyneoteny. Of course, the bothers the SL3 not a comma’s worth that very few readers know what the word means.”
- Tom Robbins, Still Life With Woodpecker
If it’s July, it must be time to go back to Horning’s Hideout. Some years for String Cheese, others for NWSS, it’s always good to have a weekend spent there. Alas the realities of the Great Recession meant that SCI was completely out, but two day passes for the Northwest String Summit were sanely priced. Members of the Grateful Dead at Horning’s Hideout? How could we not go?
Certain things in life will always remain true: the length of a side of a triangle will be shorter than the sum of the other two sides, people believe that their team never gets calls from the refs, the left lane is for passing except for in Seattle where it’s for driving no faster than 10 miles under the speed limit. A new postulate to that list should be that the first few hours at Horning’s Hideout are always going to be difficult.
Yes the place is amazing, but there’s always something. This year, our first private campsite was apparently still private because Bob Horning asked people to not camp there for some reason. We wandered around for a while before finding a spot. Finally, we saw the perfect location. Mel went to get some supplies while I examined a few stickery weeds that might give our tent some problem. When she returned, she looked at what I was doing, appalled. “Leaves of three, let them be,” is a cliché that I should know but it somehow slipped my mind as I messed around with a whole pile of 3 leaved plants. Poison Ivy? Poison Oak? Who knows what it was. We set up our tent, hoping that we wouldn’t break out in rashes.
One of the great things about Horning’s Hideout is that there are experts on pretty much everything disguised as hippies. One year I learned that strawberries are neither fruits nor berries, but rather fleshy receptacles. This year’s botanical lesson was different. As we continued to argue over how I might have infected myself, a woman walked by. She overheard our conversation and then examined the plants. She then leaned down, caressed the plant, and said, “This is thimbleberry.” I looked it up afterwards and sure enough… It’s amazing what random passers by know.
Psychosomatic crisis averted, it was time to go to the main field and see some music. We arrived in time for the Infamous Stringdusters. This was the one real bluegrass set of the day for us. Horning’s was already in full force. There are many venues that make music sound better. Most of them come from pure natural beauty – the Gorge, Red Rocks – but with Horning’s it’s a different source. Yes, the setting is pastoral with tall trees and a lake behind the stage, but what really is striking about the venue is the sense of relaxation.
“No More to Leave You Behind” would be a beautiful song anywhere, but when you have serious hoopers and people wearing trampoline shoes and kids running around and people shooting streams of water at each other from the paddleboat guns on the lake, it adds a layer of serenity. The beauty might be people at peace with themselves instead of giant red cliffs, but it has the same effect of amplifying the power of the music.
The one question we had about the schedule is why the Rhythm Devils weren’t the headliners. It would logical to have your Grateful Dead tribute be in the late night slot instead of in the middle of the afternoon. The answer came as the band was introduced. It was about taking the music that we grew up with and exposing it to a new generation. Playing earlier meant that the kids could attend.
While he’s not playing for the whole tour, one still has to assume that this is a peak moment in the life of Keller Williams. He’s built an entire career around being a Deadhead. He usually throws in one or two GD songs in a set. He wrote an obscenity laden tune about the 1995 Deer Creek gatecrash. So to be on stage and be able to play Grateful Dead songs with the rhythm section of the band, how could he not be loving that? Answer: he obviously is.
While the whole set was good, the highlight was probably the “Bird Song.” It was a mellow version, apropos for the event. The crowd and the band synched and for a few minutes it felt like something more important than a cover band. Good call on the invite String Summit.
Being hardened northwesterners, we knew that the warm day would not last long past sunset. We headed back to the tent to change and chill. Unfortunately, we also got a visit from Mr. Migraine. We could kind of hear the music from our campsite, so I listened while Mel slept it off. When I heard “New Speedway Boogie,” I suspected that the Rhythm Devils were on stage but “Franklin’s Tower” sealed it. I told Mel that I’d be back at the break and ran off to the stage. I almost made it to the wristband checkpoint when the setbreak was announced. Oh well. I tried.
Migraine or no migraine, we didn’t spend $105 each to sit in a tent. Advil was taken. Caffeine was consumed. Then it was off to the field for set two. Yonder wasn’t helping. Between the inane between song banter and the lights shining right in our face, it was like we they were trying to aggravate the headache. Then everything changed.
Members of the Infamous Stringdusters were brought out to help on “Up on the Hill Where They Do the Boogie.” In one of those classic Horning’s crowd participation moments, a few robot marionettes came out from the side of the stage. With glowing eyes and pincers, they were pretty scary. Yes they had on their chests symbols for peace, music, and love respectively, but they also were enacting a battle. Peace Robot was especially scary as it had a top hat and mustache akin to a 19th century vaudeville villain. They might pretend to be here in peace, but their intents were obviously more malevolent. Yonder knew that the only way to prevent a takeover of Earth would be to appease them with good music. The set got a lot better and the robots went from fighting to dancing. We were saved!
…or maybe I just watch way too much Doctor Who…
The wildcard for the evening was moe.‘s set. How would they perform as an acoustic act? The answer was, “Surprisingly well.” While “Time Again” was their one and only attempt at a bluegrass song for the occasion, complete with a “Yee Haw!” no less, the acoustic section had some nice high energy jams. The weather was defeating their efforts a little though. The chilly air required them to tune extensively between songs, leading some great banter as they explained that this is why they usually play electric.
While moe. did have some incredible jams, the show suffered a bit from Disco Biscuits syndrome. I personally find that after a lot of long songs, something short and catchy – a “Sample” or “Bouncing” – provides a great change of pace, a palate cleanser. When every song is at the 10-15 minute mark, ears never break from that sound and it can get old. Still though, the first 75 minutes or so of the set were amazing enough that I left satisfied, if not getting ready to drop everything to go on moe. tour.
Saturday night in the Horning’s campground is always going to be an interesting experience – this year the fun was a band playing amplified music until 3 AM – but Sunday is always the recovery day. There weren’t quite as many people stumbling around as in past years, but everyone always moves a little bit slower on Sunday. We went back out to the field, let Crooked Still’s music wash over us and I read. My book for this trip was a rereading of David Brin’s The Uplift War. It’s mainly a space opera sort of SF book, but he uses the series to talk about issues that interest him, such as the nature of intelligence.
As I sat out in the sun, watching people hoop and play Frisbee and experiment with this tool that creates giant bubbles, I read the following:
Neoteny, Robert thought. It was a classic, pre-Contact theory that had proved more valid than not – one proposing that part of the secret of sapiency was to remain as childlike as possible, for as long as possible.
Is that what we’re doing with our music and our toys? While the statement seems mockable, there actually is an element of truth to it. No, it’s not in the person who is so far gone that they can just sit down and say, “Ooooooh! Pretty colors!” However, the spirit of Horning’s Hideout always seems to have a level of curiosity beneath it. It’s a place where you can ask questions about botany or the science behind cold light or the rationale behind the Electoral College and you’d be likely to get a real response. The trick is to keep up your curiosity about the outside world, and – as silly as it may sound – a weekend spent playing and listening to music can do just that. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I managed to solve a lot of sticky world problems on the Monday following NWSS.
So when you see people playing at a festival, don’t think that they’re just goofing off and being stupid. They’re furthering the intellectual evolution of our species. See! Now check out this new trick I just learned! It’s science-riffic.
*****
David Steinberg got his Masters Degree in mathematics from New Mexico State University in 1994. He first discovered the power of live music at the Capital Centre in 1988 and never has been the same. His Phish stats website is at www.ihoz.com/PhishStats.html and he’s on the board of directors for The Mockingbird Foundation. He occasionally posts at the Phish.net blog
