I bumped into Cheese, badass drummer for Albuquerque jamband, Pherkad. He told me they were due to take the stage tomorrow, “…with an additional guitarist joining us. His name is John.” A short time later, I made friends with a nice couple backstage. They introduced themselves as Katy and John. They looked like your average festivarians, ready to get their groove on. John was wearing an especially groovy tie-dyed t-shirt. After a few tokes and an exchange of jamband philosophy (“the music goes where the music wants to go, because it’s music”), the name Kadlecik entered the conversation. I stopped, taking a moment to put two and two together. Holy smoke! I was talking to Dark Star Orchestra founder John Kadlecik. “I’m a musician-in-residence here this weekend. Sitting in with Melvin [Seals of JGB] tomorrow,” he said. Sparks went off in my brain. I asked, “Are you playing with Pherkad tomorrow as well?” He was. Oh my God, when Cheese said it was a guy named John sitting in with them, I never dreamed it would be Furthur guitarist John Kadlecik.

Railroad Earth took the big stage next. Though they hail from New Jersey many think of them as a Colorado band – possibly because they sound like a Colorado band (acoustic, jammy, earthy, no pun intended), or maybe just because they play there a lot. They were another return to the festival from last year, but it sounded like they’d acquired a new bass player who really filled out their sound. The deep bass countered their normal high-pitched strains and solidified things nicely. I couldn’t tell if the olde-timey / circus-dressed folks on stilts were employees of Railroad Earth, Inc., or just wildly enthusiastic (and athletic) fans of the band. Either way, they definitely made themselves part of the show.

Closing out Saturday on the big stage was one of my favorite bands: Infamous Stringdusters. They swapped time slots with Railroad Earth, but I didn’t get the chance to ask if their delay had anything to do with the fire detour. Delayed or not, they mustered up all their collective powers and tore through an elemental set. If a string band can shred, these guys are that band. Astute lovers of live music noticed a couple of Grateful Dead song teases and a Phish “First Tube” tease in-between the Stringdusters’ soaring originals. A couple of times banjo player Chris Pandolfi felt the urge to tell New Mexico how much they love playing for us. Normally bands will say that just to get the crowd hyped, but he seemed genuinely sincere. The New Mexico crowd obviously loved them right back. I’m surprised the energy generated in that biofeedback loop didn’t cause a storm to form above us. Or did it?

I awoke in the tent on Sunday morning, not to the New Mexico sun beating down on me, but to dark storm clouds and an amped up version of the wind which had plagued us all weekend. Thinking it wise to put the rainfly on before I began the morning ablutions, I got to it and realized this version of the wind was really several orders of magnitude greater than what I had arrived in. Nearby campers all seemed to be dismantling their setups. Surely, they’re not all bailing on day 3 just because it might rain? Or to get back in time for work on Monday? I stood there for what must have been a long time, evaluating what kind of damage my tent might incur if I left it up in this wind. _ It’s managed to withstand 2 days already, seems pretty solid. And it did take forever to nail it down in the first place._ One of the campers next to me asks, “Are you going to take your gear down too?” So, they were probably all taking their camps down and stowing them safely before the storm ripped them into a million pieces. I had seen tents go sailing a time or two already. Feeling like my luck had held so far, I decided to throw my cooler into the tent before I headed back to the festival. Surely, that will keep it anchored, despite the howling wind.

The storm clouds circled the mesa for hours, threatening to unleash nature’s drenching wrath upon us for having so much fun. Indoor bands were bumped so that outdoor bands at least had a stage to play on. The morning was devoted to Joe Craven and the Sometimers conducting an improvisational workshop. Presuming we’d seen their masterful feats the day before, Joe started talking about reworking songs in unusual ways. Unlike some teachers though, Joe and the band were actually able to demonstrate what they were teaching, how to improvise, extrapolate and make the songs your own, even if they aren’t. I’m still ruminating over something Joe said about “correctness vs. clarity,” and maybe that was the whole crux of the matter for him. It seemed he could have well carried on indefinitely, but the day of outdoor bands playing inside was about to begin.

Pherkad came on, with special guest John Kadlecik, and he readily demonstrated his supernatural ability to fit in wherever the music wanted him to. This band gets better every time I see them, and having Kadlecik in the mix certainly didn’t hurt.

We spent much of day 3 inside the brewery, occasionally glancing over our collective shoulder to see what the storm was doing. The venue had replaced the newly-mended rain cover above the stage, but would it survive another bout with New Mexico wind?

Also playing on Sunday, inside rather than outside, was a band I hadn’t heard from in a while: Assembly of Dust. Now, in the way-out-west, things are more spread out. As a result, we don’t have the vibrant jamband circuit you enjoy in the northeast. This was the first time I’d had the opportunity to see them live, though I’d enjoyed many of their recordings over the years. This band was formed from the ashes of another band I liked, called Strangefolk, and is still led by Strangefolk’s Reid Genauer, though some of the members have changed. Wikipedia tells me they’ve got the very talented Jason Crosby with them now. While their songs come off as appealing down-to-earth folk rock in the studio, live is another story; each song bloomed into a full-fledged pleasure garden. It was like having my ears dipped in honey.

Word came down that they had decided to set up Melvin Seals and JGB in the so-called Bedouin tent out in the campground. I finally get to experience the after-hours tent, albeit before-hours and during a storm of biblical proportions. How they managed to cram all that gear and those people into that tent, I can only presume some wizarding intervention. Melvin seemed to have difficulty with the Hammond they had provided in the tent, but the rest of the band, including guest John Kadlecik, began the show as they probably often would, with “Cats Under the Stars,” followed by “Lay Down Sally.” We were so psyched that Melvin actually got to play despite the raging storm, we didn’t notice he was having difficulty with the instrument until he stopped the show and requested an organ transplant. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried wrestling a Hammond B-3 off one stage, through a campground and into an enormous, yurt-like tent, but it didn’t look easy, even if it had been good weather, which it wasn’t. The remainder of the show proceeded smoothly and Melvin smiled as he got the train back on track.

The sun was about to set, and I couldn’t handle the stress of keeping my tent worries at bay, so I hiked back to my camp to see what damage, if any, had been done. After all it had withstood the weather all weekend, and I was half convinced nothing would be wrong. As I approached and couldn’t see the tent, my heart sank. The wind had managed to rip it loose from its moorings and apparently snapped a couple of poles but, because I had the prescience to put the cooler in it, at least it was still flapping in the vicinity in which it was left. Flattened and muddy, but still generally there. I balled it up, giving myself a nice mud bath in the process, and stuffed it in the back of the car. Well, it’s either sleep in the car tonight, or head back to Santa Fe after moe.. I wonder if moe. is still going to play, or if the storm has kept them away? Aside from Antibalas, moe. was the band I was most excited about this weekend. They hadn’t played New Mexico in a long time and I would have been crushed if they had to cancel due to weather.

Trudging back to the venue, the sunset showed the clouds finally beginning to clear. Maybe they still have those yummy molé tacos for sale on the patio. I need to get something in me before I pass out. For those who don’t know, moe. recently went on a hiatus while bass player Rob Derhak dealt with “The Big C.” When they first took the stage, I worried that they were too rusty from the break. But, more likely, they were just trying to adjust their hands and their instruments to the chilly wind which still ripped through our bones. It wasn’t long before they righted themselves and roared through a setlist like no other. Guests from bands which were possibly bumped earlier sat in and played acoustic instruments louder and faster than they’d ever dared play them before. There was even an absolutely mad vibes solo. I breathed a sigh of relief and started taking notes. Moe. still shredded and all was right with the world.

My tent may not have survived, but I did, filled to the brim with the kind of satisfied happiness that only the right kind of music can bring. Driving back to Santa Fe, I found myself looking forward to a long summer of great live music. I will return to this venue and to this festival, though I’m seriously contemplating whether I can afford a solid camper to do it in next time.

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