by Kimberly Caterino for Live Music Capital Radio
Saturday morning started with an upbeat set by Aloe Blacc and the Grand Scheme on the fatty Bud Light stage (i.e. the stage Stevie would later adorn). Their music is a blend of pop, R & B, funk, and jazz.. with strong fluid saxophone.. delivered to a fresh, clean, and awake crowd. Aloe stood out stylishly with his sky blue button-down shirt, grey vest, sunglasses, and grey fedora, and he danced and bounced around the stage like it was Saturday morning-- because it practically was—and after teasing the crowd earlier with the opening to the hit “I Need A Dollar” (which Aloe stopped, saying it wasn’t time yet).. they did finally bust it out, with crowd in tow. They also did an interesting mix of Bob Marley’s “No Woman No Cry” and Hall & Oates’ “Maneater”, yes, together. “Regardless of culture or color”, Aloe said, “it’s all soul music.”
True to the musical attention deficit disorder capable of being cultivated at ACL, I next followed my inner twang over to investigate the up-and-coming Jon Pardi. For him and his band, I planted it for awhile, happy to take in some country, even if it’s from Nashville (just kidding) (not really). Jon and his band have the rock-country machismo in the somewhat same vein as Reckless Kelly, with a little more honky tonk. Their dobro player really stood out, and folks were two-stepping it throughout the crowd in pairs. A couple of the songs we heard were “Empty Beer Cans” and “Does Anybody Want to Go Drinking with Me?” Are you catching the theme?
After a lunch break I ventured into Iron & Wine territory – an artist/band (Samuel Beam) I’ve grown to appreciate. Now a nearby-Austin resident, he plays here on a regular basis, but this was my first time seeing him live. He and his fleshed out band (including horns, flute, and keys) delivered Sam’s ethereal and pulsing songs well, opening with a newer song “Rabbit Will Run”. The ambience of Iron and Wine’s music doesn’t pair well with the sport of standing in a youngish and antsy crowd in the sometimes-sun at 4pm (the hottest time of the day)-- and the chatty crowd ruined it for me, so I moved on rather soon, but Sam Beam proved he can deliver in person what I hear in his recordings. It did start to rain though, after I left. and with band, Iron & Wine ventured into musical folk-jazzy exploration. Take that you twenty-somthings!
I cruised past Seattle’s The Moondoggies, briefly absorbing their blend of rock, Americana, and harmonies – with something a little dark about it all. It involved guitar fuzz that I wasn’t ready for, and to be fair to them, I already had my circuits flipping switches in preparation for Stevie Wonder. Stevie Wonder. I wish I had kept tally of musicians who mentioned him – I know Jon Pardi did – musicians and fans alike were united in anticipation of this legend.
I tried to see folk songstress Gillian Welch’s set, but her performance was delayed for one reason or another, setting me off directly into the direction of Stevie’s stage, albeit hours early. I was determined beyond determined to hear and see well for Stevie’s performance. This meant hanging at the fringes of rapper/songwriter Cee Lo’s set – a man whose band was comprised entirely of women in shiny spandex. Mixed feelings on this. Cee Lo was half of the duo Gnarls Barkley, known for the hit “Crazy”, which Cee Lo did deliver in a remixed style. He did in fact have much of the crowd, whom he addressed as “sexy mother fuckers”, wrapped around his fingers. His FCC-unfriendly solo hit “Fuck You” (also known as “Forget You”) was also a crowd pleaser, and also my invitation to make a bee line for the front of the sound board, as soon as it was over. I was victorious.
The wonderful thing about some of the huge headliners at ACL is they usually draw fans from multiple generations. Someone who is 62 dances next to someone 26 and both know every lyric and note by heart. Precious. It is.
I had zero expectations of Stevie Wonder. I never imagined seeing him live, let along in the park of the city where I live.
The band started without him on the stage, setting an upbeat and rhythmic groove-- creating a kinetic frenzy in the crowd – because you could hear Stevie, but you couldn’t see him—from somewhere offstage came a signature and synthesized keyboard riff. This isn’t a great visual video, but this Youtube captures the frenzy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWEZENLpuEA
It was the beginning – or at least Stevie’s version of-- “How Sweet It Is”, a Marvin Gaye cover. Stevie slowly made his way from behind the curtain, left side of the stage, towards the middle, arriving at the mic, without missing a note and without his hands ever leaving the keytar . Thanks to the screens flanking the stage, I could see he looked exactly as I remember him – with beaded braids, sunglasses, and brightly patterned shirt. “You know I love you right?” he said soon after beginning the song – meaning us, the crowd. For crying out loud, we loved him too.
Stevie sounded as good as he ever did, both vocally and on the keys. He moved like Stevie, sang like Stevie, smiled like Stevie, and talked politics like Stevie – giving props to Obama, reminding us the importance of children, the need to make things right in this world-- with love. Of course he did this between songs.. including oldies that I seriously could not believe I was hearing.. like “Master Blaster”, “I Wish”, “Living for the City”, and “Higher Ground” (during which he divided the crowd into three groups: alto, tenor, and soprano- giving us each a part to sing in rounds). He threw in a few covers, like Michael Jackson’s “The Way You Make Me Feel” (with some strong props to MJ) and Nat King Cole’s “When I Fall in Love”, and delivered his hits “My Cherie Amour”, “I Just Called to Say I Love You”, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours”, and yes: “Superstition”.
For dancing room, which I take very seriously in the presence of a funk master, I left the front of the Sound Board area and moved my way back, with full memory of seeing the band Muse last year, my hair standing up from the volume, even halfway down the field. This is my only complaint: something was wrong with the sound- Stevie wasn’t loud enough. It didn’t discourage me from dancing so hard to “I Wish” that I pulled a neck muscle. Best injury ever.
Bouncing down 5th Street days later, I ran into a coworker on the street, also giddy. “I’m still in a good mood from seeing Stevie Wonder!” was all we could muster for conversation. There was no need for more. Experiencing the legend of Stevie Wonder performing live, now age 61, is as uplifting as it gets.
.. so it’s hard to follow that up, but I still dove in on Sunday afternoon, with a sore and stiff neck, ready to take in the last of this annual Austin ACL-fest world. I have to admit, for someone who had artist passes in previous years and was now a regular civilian in the park, the concert grounds were operated smoothly enough to not harbor serious complaints. Yes it was damn crowded- but not oversold like last year. And I think ACL Fest has gotten the hang of how many food booths and plastic potties to bring in. There was free filtered water for those who brought a container, and volunteers picking up trash constantly. At the food court, there were nonstop volunteers advising how to separate our true trash from compostables and recyclables – and almost everything (plates, forks, etc.) was compostable.
Because of a work commitment, I couldn’t make it into the thick of things until Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses performed at, yes, the sunniest stage at the hottest time of day. I toughed it out, and it was well worth it. I first started spinning the Texas-bred, former rodeo rider Ryan Bingham in 2007 when his debut album Mescalito was released. Ryan and the band played so many of these ‘older songs’- perfectly – but not exclusively.. we heard “Dollar A Day”, “The Other Side”, “Sunrise”, “Sunshine”.. and what was then a targeted single, “Southside of Heaven”- which Ryan busted out the harmonica for. From his latest release Junky Star we heard “Depression” and “Hallelujah”.. If we heard the Grammy-winning “The Weary Kind”, I don’t remember – it is a great song – but I wasn’t missing it in the late afternoon of a dusty field. Ryan Bingham has the lyrical wisdom and weathered vocal grittiness of someone twice his age. The Dead Horses were tight, complete with fiddle and keys, and Ryan seemed more talkative and outgoing as a performer than he did 3 years ago, when he hid beneath a cowboy hat. As a closer, they played what I hoped they would – the triumphant, traveling, and reckless “Bread and Water”. Yee haw! This one was a rodeo winner.
Manu Chao was spot on as he was three years ago at 2008’s ACL Music Festival. The internationally touring and internationally bred bandleader (raised in France, of Hispanic descent) was as infectious as ever, leading the band, and the crowd, through waves of reggae, ska, punk and splashes of other genres.. while slipping in and out of French, English, and Spanish. He and the band can shift their timing instantly, often into double time, that inspires a jumping, hand-pumping audience. This does and will go on for as long as Manu plays – which he only had an hour this time, but he packed every minute, stopping to address the audience frequently. Some cuts we heard were “Clandestino”, “Politik Kills”, and “Eldorado 1977”.. Pounding the microphone on his chest, on top of his heart and mimicking a heartbeat, is an effective way to triply get everyone’s attention, but this time the big screens also showed us he drew blood through the pounding- which he either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and kept on with “La Primavera”. First Charles Bradley, then Stevie Wonder, and now Manu Chao stirred us into a pious frenzy. With Manu on guitar and a full band plus trumpet, every one of his sixty minutes were buzzing- whether a momentary reggae bounce or a lightning-speed punk thrash.
Social Distortion began playing just seconds before Manu Chao finished. In the middle of my workweek, I had to keep my visit brief (and had to skip out on Arcade Fire- boo). For a band that first started in 1978, Social Distortion sounded like I remember them: raucous, loud, and emblazoned with the uniquely growling vocals of original band member and frontman Mike Ness. Mike gave a shout out to the Texas hospitality he received here, and proceeded to dis the manners of his home state California. Social Distortion may have aged and rotated some members, but with no less leather or spit.
Once again the ACL Music Festival introduced me to artists I may never otherwise know, and shockingly brought me to the comfort: musically, yes, you can go home again.
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